THE SPIRIT OF ANTI-CHRIST IS HERE AND THE CHURCH MUST TAKE A STAND

Perhaps the anti-christ has not yet come, but the spirit of anti-christ is everywhere. Even though we have not reached that point in Bible prophesy, the signs of the coming of the anti-christ are as sure as the leaves beginning to bud on the fig tree.

It doesn't really matter if you are Four Square, Roman Catholic, Baptist, Methodist, Mormon, or Seventh Day Adventist. There's one thing that we can all agree on and that is the Christian Church, not only here in America, but around the world is under attack like it hasn't been since the reigns of terror of Roman Emperors Caligula and Nero. Nearly all of Christ's disciple's, the Apostle Paul and a million other early Christians were martyred at the hands of those two Romans tyrants. Presently, the Church is under attack on several fronts. The Muslims present the biggest threat to the Church worldwide, and according to experts in Middle East and Persian Gulf affairs, tell us that the world population on Islamics is growing six times faster than non Islamic religions and it is their quest to conquer the world for Islam. Radical Islamic Imams have declared an all out jihad against the infidels; meaning Christians, Jews and any other religion that is not Islamic. Their hate filled rhetoric being spewed forth have put our missionaries around the globe in constant danger from these Islamic fanatics, and are being killed simply because they are spreading the Gospel. Their own holy book, the Koran, tells them to kill the infidels where they sleep. We need to remember the attack on the World Trade Center in New York on September 11, 2001 to remind us of their evil intent.

The spirit of anti-christ is clearly on display in New York City with all the controversy surrounding the proposed mosque to be built near the site of the World Trade Center Towers. We who remember September 11, 2001, are now being accused of being anti Muslim because we don't want a mosque built near Ground Zero. We are being accused of being anti Constitution for being adamant about not wanting the mosque by denying them freedom of religion. In no way we as Christians are denying them the freedom to worship. Christians everywhere should stand up to this affront because we recognize this mosque for what it is. It is a shrine of victory for the Islamics who want to build it there under the guise that it is a place for peace, tolerance, and interfaith understanding. There are already over a hundred mosques in New York and there is no objection for this one being built as long as it is somewhere else. Background research has found that Imam Rauf, the one who is pushing for the mosque, has already revealed his sinister intentions in recorded and documented speeches he has made. He has already been found out that he is a deceiver and a liar.

The mosque, supposedly to be named Cordoba House, would be a shrine to Islamic victory, just as the Dome of the Rock which sits atop the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, and in Spain, the Cordoba House, which is a rub it in your face. insulting term gloating over their victory over the Christians. It is a shrine to the Muslim conquerors who symbolized their victory over the Spaniards by transforming a church there into the world’s third largest mosque complex. This issue is a test for Americans to see if we are going to be bullied by these so called immigrants who refuse to assimilate into our society in their undeniable goal of conquering the entire world for Islam. Already, there are New Yorkers, including the Mayor and the City Council who are backing the mosque and are arrogantly ignoring the will of the people by issuing a permit to build it. They are historically ignorant and they lecture us on being intolerant when it is the Islamics who are the most intolerant people on earth. No churches or synagogues can be built in Saudi Arabia, or any other Islamic dominant country. No Jew or Christian is even allowed to enter the city of Mecca, and our missionaries face imprisonment for spreading the gospel. They claim that we are judging the entire faith by a few fanatics. True devout Islamics don't carry out terroristic acts. Was it not devout Islamics who flew planes into the Towers and was it not a devout Islamic who shot and killed several soldiers and civilians at Fort Hood Texas? I know that there are moderates; there always are, but in this case you can't tell them apart because Islamic militants are masters of deception and they mix in with those who want to live in peace with others of different faiths. Even the very elite are deceived. I personally find it difficult to accept Islam under any circumstances; even the moderates because they have done nothing to fix their religion, but cower in fear. If there is a spirit of anti-christ, it is ever so obvious in New York City. The Christian Church has to take a stand in this. This mosque must not be built.

The spirit of anti-christ is prevalent right here in our own government. Left wing radicals, secular humanists who advocate the one, centralized world government and open borders, atheists, and others, including our own courts and taxpayer supported institutions, have also launched attacks against the Church. For example, the American Civil Liberties Union, which is a private funded organization which also receives grants from our own government. The ACLU, is almost in constant litigation against a church or a group because some benign Christian object such as a road sign in the desert, or a cross on top of a mountain, a Christmas manger scene is offensive to someone. Even the words In God We Trust and One Nation Under God are under being challenged in the court using the tired, well over used reason that it violates the separation of Church and state clause in the Constitution. I really don't need to tell you this because you should be well aware of this almost daily occurrence by these attention craving individuals. What bothers me most about all this is that we have people in our own government that are in support of this persecution of the Church. The US 9th Circuit of the Court of Appeals, which is notorious for overturning the will of the people via legislation from the judicial bench by activist judges, is the one place that an attorney specializing in frivolous civil rights lawsuits will take on one of these cases pro bono. These lawyers know they can count on this court to rule in their favor, no matter how ridiculous their case is. Nonetheless, the Christian Church and Christians make for easy targets and it is the taxpayers that are taking the hit in paying these attorneys large sums of money. The American Center for Law and Justice, headed up by attorney Jay Sekulow is the best known donation supported organization, does not receive any government grants, is dedicated to the challenges to our religious freedoms. Unfortunately, there are too many cases that need to be defended and the ACLJ is simply overworked and undermanned to take on every case. The ACMJ needs help and this is where the Church itself must take a stand. The ACMJ is a worthy cause that needs our support; and individual churches should consider the ACMJ as a ministry that needs the support of the Church. We can no longer afford to be run over roughshod because in the political climate in which we find ourselves, our Christian principles and institutions are under attack; right here in the USA. The left wing Liberals who are in control of the government right now look at Christians as being intolerant bigots because of our stands against homosexuality, abortion, and the apologetic gestures toward those enemies that would kill us if given half a chance. They look at our Constitution as being a major hindrance to their Marxist, even Stalinist agenda. Even the President of the United States, who claims to be a Christian; there are those of us who have our doubts because of his lack of parliamentary actions, is lecturing us on being tolerant to Muslims and understanding of the Islamic faith, has openly declared that the United States is no longer a Christian nation. This has opened the door to more in your face persecution of Christians and the Church. Jesus' words, I am the way, the truth, and the life; no man can go to the Father except by me no longer have any validity because the Holy Bible is regarded as hate speech in the far left wing sectors of our society.

What bothers me most is how liberalism has crept into our mainstream denominational churches and for the most part, the message they are putting out is tolerance. Tolerance is what got us into the state we find ourselves today. Tolerance is responsible for the politically correct climate in which we are entrenched. I attended a graduation ceremony of a major denomination owned university a few years ago, who displayed their large red cross icon and flame; yet not one word by the guest speakers, who were basically left wing radicals or the peacock attired academia elites, mentioned a word about Jesus Christ or God. Even the invocation was politically correct in that it referred to God as the Great Supreme Being so as not to offend anyone, let alone end the prayer in Our Heavenly Father or Jesus' name. I could hear the groans of those attending parents and relatives as the guest speakers spouted off about their ideology, or what's wrong with America and our image around the world. I can remember when the United States of America was the beacon, the city on the hill, where all the world could see, a land of hope and freedom.

All this is frightening, I know, and you probably feel helpless in wanting to do something to stop this trend. Fortunately, the Tea Party movement has united us in trying to get this nation turned around into the right direction, and hopefully this November there will be a change in who's in charge of running the country. Until then, however, we do have a most powerful weapon. It's called prayer. Believe me, the Lord knows what we are facing, and He is the God who inhabits the praises and hears the prayers of His people. Pray for this country daily as if your life depended on it; it does. Not to sound self righteous, but I pray for this country everyday; praying that there be a mighty revival across this land, the magnitude the world has never seen, where millions upon millions would be saved, and once again the United States of America would be that beacon; that city upon the hill. Then the world will see that there is indeed a God in the United States of America, and it is the Lord.

WHITNEY MILLER: AN INSPIRATION IN AN UNLIKELY PLACE

To suggest I would ever receive any kind of inspiration from the Fox TV Network program called Hell's Kitchen for me would be ludicrous. It would be the last place in the vast waste land of prime time television I would expect, to watch foul mouthed master chef Gordon Ramsey belittle and humiliate restaurant owners and their kitchen employees as if he were a Marine boot camp drill instructor; or so I thought. That was a few months ago and now my opinion of the show has made a one-eighty. At first, the show was a little too much for me, but like millions who have become fans of the show, people are realizing why he commands respect, even to make restaurant owners cry or make them fighting mad. Even though I thought it entertaining because a lot of Ramsey's cutting remarks were funny, at the expense of those where the comments were directed. Just like the Marine DI who turn boys into fighting men who burn with pride, shouting Semper Fi (Always Faithful), Ramsey's often cruel criticisms have resulted in a dying restaurant to rebound amidst our bad economy.


During the last few months, a summer replacement show called Master Chef joined the other reality TV shows such as America's Got Talent, So You Think You Can Dance, and of course American Idol. Again, like the others, the show was a competition, for amateur cooks, that had thousands of applicants; for those whose dream is to be a the head chef in a fancy restaurant. Gordon Ramsey was the host. There were fifteen thousand applicants that auditioned. Out of that number, only the top fifty would be selected to compete in the television series. The winner of the competition, America's first Master Chef, would receive $250,000 with a cook book deal, perhaps worth millions, and guest appearances on television shows throughout the land.

You don't have to watch the entire series, only the final two hour episode to get the point of this article. You can go to http://fox.com/ and watch a replay of the final episode via streaming video. Believe me, you and your children should watch this because there are lessons in life on display here.

Whitney Miller, is a twenty-two year old student at Southern Mississippi from Poplarville,Ms. She was a long shot at best in the over all competition; the reasoning was that she was inconsistent. However her strong point was in desserts and early on in the contest, she was dubbed the Pastry Princess. She came very close to being eliminated and had to face another competitor by preparing a three course meal in ninety minutes. Ramsey and his two two consulting judges picked their dish. Each participant won a point for one of their dishes but Whitney came out on top when she delivered a perfect souffle, a very difficult dessert to make, in the cook off competition which got her into the final four. The following video is the homemade one she submitted to the producers of the Master Chef show.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJqygi1LPw0

In hour two of the season finale, the drama became very intense. Ironically, both she and her competitor David had the same last name; Miller. Again under intense deadline pressure, both had to produce another three course meal; an appetizer, a main entree, and a delicious dessert. David went for trying to impress the three judges by going the fancy restaurant style route and presenting a very difficult main entree, Beef Wellington, a dish Ramsey admitted that it took him a thoudand tries to perfect. Whitney chose simplicity. Instead, she chose to go with simple items such as pan fried chicken, and collards, Southern cooking, inexpensive ingredients taken to a much higher level. During the time the two chefs were preparing their meals, David was being very flippant, talking and joking to the audience and his family while Whitney remained focused; not once even acknowledging the audience was there. No one knows for sure, perhaps David was fighting off fear of losing which revealled his insecurity.

Disaster struck when the worst for the Pastry Princess happened. Whitney dropped her chicken on the floor with only seven minutes remaining. My heart sank while watching this, because it appeared that it was all over for the twenty-two year old hopeful. She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears, looked up, received her strength and the will to continue from you know where, and started over by flowering another chicken breast. Gordon Ramsey told her that it was virtually impossible to cook chicken to where no pink showed in seven minutes. It went down to the final second when the two were ordered to stop. Ramsey looked at Whitney and said to her, "if this chicken is the slightest bit pink, I'm not going to taste it. I'm going to cut it at it thickest place, and if its pink, I'm not going to touch it." Whitney bit down on her lower lip and waited as Ramsey cut the chicken which he said was nicely, evenly brown on both sides. He looked up to her and smiled, "it's perfect." Whitney's hope was still alive, because David's Beef Wellington failed to pass the test. It came down to the dessert, and again, Whitney chose to go with simple ingredients. It was a difficult decision for the judges to make, but Whitney overcame the odds, even seemingly overwhelming and impossible adversity, and became America's first Master Chef. Never once during the competition did the editors have to bleep something that she said, as they did some of the other competitors, which says to me that she was raised in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. If you go to Whitney's Face Book page, she comments that she has been "truly blessed."

Whitney said in post interviews that it was a dream come true. Never once did she doubt her ability, laying claim all along that the title of Master Chef was her's. Whitney wanted to have her own catering business, but that dream may be replaced by having her own cooking show on TV. She has already been talking to the Food Channel about having her own show. All possibilities are open to her and opportunity will not have difficulty in presenting itself to her in many forms.

Parents: If your child has a dream to become something special, don't be a dream killer and tell them they can't do this or that. Encourage them to keep focused on what it is they want to accomplish. This lesson really came to me too late in life for I allowed others to tell me that I was "dreaming" and not to be taken seriously. Not blaming anyone, because we are the sum total of the choices we have made in life; good or bad, but I'm sure that was one thing that kept me from being all that I could have been. This is why rags to riches stories about ordinary people; Paul Potts and Susan Boyle from Britain's Got Talent, and now Master Chef Whitney Miller, continue to inspire me, and I'll write about them.

From left to right Graham Elliott, Master Chef, Gordon Ramsey, Whitney Miller, Master Chef Winner, Joe Bastianich, Restauranteur.

all photos courtesy of FOX

WITH MY HEALING CAME A RENEWING OF THE MIND

Last March, my doctors informed me that I was terminally ill. They told me that at my rate of decline I have at most only a couple of months left. When they told me, I wasn't really surprised, but if you know anything at all about me, you'll know that I didn't accept their prognosis. Instead, I decided to put my faith, hope and confindence in the Lord and not in any doctors.The decision to keep on keeping on and continue writing is what I'm going to do as long as I am able.

I sent out a letter to you and just in case you don't remember what I said, this is it.

To my friends, former WSBTV associates, relatives, and those of you who take the time to read my blogs. As most of you know, I have been in the hospital four times since last July, and each time I've been, my condition has gotten progressively worse. This is not an attempt to be melodramatic, but to be as truthful and as forthcoming as I can to let each of you know straight from the horse's mouth, that my last stay at Emory Hospital was not very encouraging, to say the least. My doctors essentially told me to "get my affairs in order, talk to my family and friends, and prepare myself for the enevitable because they have done about all they can for me." Needless to say, I do not accept their report. I have had too many miracles in my life to expect nothing less than another miracle. I look at this as another opportunity for the Lord God Almighty to demonstrate His awesome power in my life. I prefer to put my faith and trust in the Lord and not in any doctors or any other man. It is my God, who has numbered the hairs on my head, who determines how long I live in this realm. Meanwhile, I will get my affairs in order, not to undermine the the Lord's Will for my life, but to simplify matters whenever that metamorphisis takes place; for I look at death as a portal from this life which is temporal to the promised one that is eternal. Think of it this way: a caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon. It hasn't the slightest inclination as to why? But in the spring, we see the morphing, the moment of truth when a beautiful butterfly emerges from the precipuce. As our Lord stated, Truly, truly, I say to you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it stays alone: but if it die, it brings forth much fruit. John 12:24 For when that transformation takes place, I can rest assured knowing , in the words of Paul, "I have run the race, fought the good fight, kept the faith, and have finished the course." Just in case I don't get another opportunity, let me take this time to say farewell. Dan Casey

Of most of my sixty six years, I have been a Christian. Thankfully, I was born of Godly parents and grew up having the church as part of my life. During those years, I was involved with the church in different ways; as a member of the choir, Sunday School teacher, and serving for a brief time on the Board of Stewards of a small Methodist Church as its chairman. Having the mistaken belief that it wasn't by God's Grace that got you into Heaven, rather it was by works that you had to earn yourself into that God had to prepared for us.

Without reservation, I confess that during those sixty six years, I have not lived the Christian life the way it is intended. Along through my journey through life, I discovered things about myself which happen to be true with every man. As a human being, it turns out that there are three of us; the physical body, the one we have now that grows old, sick, and finally dies. The spirit; that part of us that lives forever, and the soul, which consists of the mind, will, and emotions. There's also three lives to every man; his public life, on the job, in the public arena. The second one is his private life; when he is at home with his family, mowing the grass, and relaxing while watching the NFL on TV. Then there is man's secret life; you know, the one he lives when he's alone, out of town on a business trip, or involved in something he shouldn't. I learned about these nuggets of knowledge later than most men because I was slow maturing into a real man, busy doing my own thing. Aside from making a lot of bad choices and mistakes along the way, I lived my life at times with reckless abandon. If you believe in personality types; Type A or Type B, I was definitely Type A, and had the attitude that I was born to have a good time. To me, the line in the Declaration of Independence, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness should have read pursuit of a good time. Even though, I was technically Born Again, I did not have the renewing of the mind which is supposed to come with it. I did have a renewing of the mind; it didn't last. I still had the rebellion of backslider. Self gratification was my daily goal. Any time I would see something that appeared to be fun, I had to try it out. For example, I was covering a Georgia Bulldog football game in Athens as part of my job as a photographer for WSB Sports and witnessed the launching of a hot air balloon outside of Sanford Stadium on the UGA campus. It didn't take long for me to find a some balloonists and do a story on them, getting some free balloon rides. I invited my brother along and almost got him killed when he was in another balloon and it struck a radio tower in Lawrenceville.

In the late fifties, I was at the opening ceremonies of Hartsfield International Airport. WSBTV was doing a live remote. Only eleven or twelve, I remember seeing television engineers manning the large bulky black and white cameras as the ceremonies were being broadcast live. That experience is relative to this story in that I envisioned myself as one of those cameramen on top of the remote truck because it made one look important and it looked like fun. I can't recall how many times I have done that in my career as a TV news man. What was once a fun job became extremely stressful and caused two heart attacks, with complete arrest.

On November 15, 1989, became the day when I became to know Jesus up close and personally. A thunderstorm system moved through the state of Alabama leaving wide swaths of destruction in the wake of numerous tornadoes that had touched down. More than twenty people were killed in Anniston when an apartment complex was splintered by one of the many twisters. That same storm system was heading up Interstate 85 toward Atlanta. I was sent down to wait on the chaotic weather to arrive. I didn't have to wait long. Having just filled my tank in my five ton live truck, the type that has a telescoping, retractable forty foot mast, I was waiting in a Gulf service station with the double side doors open, sitting in the captain's chair at the video edit station and live microwave console with my camera sitting on my knees, taping hail stones as they struck the black asphalt pavement. It quickly became a lightning storm unlike anything I had ever seen before. I heard a buzzing and cracking sound as it began to rain hard and lightning in every direction. I looked through the wind shield as the wipers went back and forth, and that's when I saw the ominous, very menacing funnel cloud only about a hundred yards away, back lit by lightning coming from every direction. Stunned by witnessing an empty service station vanish in front of my eyes. I had a decision to make, and really I didn't know what to do. Putting my camera down, and climbing into the driver's seat would take up what time I had in an attempt to save the truck. That's when the inner voice spoke to me, loud and clear, "get out of the truck!" I did just that, and taking my camera with me, I ran inside the Gulf station and warned everyone to get down, a tornado was upon us. I took refuge behind a Coke machine which was sucked out into the parking lot leaving me exposed again. I grabbed hold of a newspaper dispenser box and held on for dear life. I saw my five ton Ford van picked up and then disappeared from my sight. The entire event took less than a minute. The van had been tossed over 400 feet.


This part was documented on video by myself as I approached the crumpled van. I was completely overwhelmed by what I saw; the most frightening few moments in my life, realizing if I hadn't heeded the voice that told me to get out of the truck, I would have certainly been killed. You can hear me on the video sobbing, because I knew that it was the Lord who saved me from certain death. That was the first time I got up close and personal with the Lord.

Exactly four months later, I had my first heart attack. Even though I was in reach of a nurse at Henry Medical Center, it took doctors and emergency personnel over forty five minutes to resuscitate me. Defibrillators were used numerous times, and it took over three years for the circular burn marks to go away. I remember flat lining and at that precise moment, as I was looking at the nurse, she hit me so hard in the chest with her fist, she broke my sternum. I lost consciousness within a second and the scene in front of me collapsed into a round dot, like the old tube TV sets did when you turned them off. It seemed as though I was being drawn into that circle of light which turned into a tunnel. The next thing I remember was that I was looking into a bright light and the I saw the blurry silhouettes of the doctors working feverishly over me. The same inner voice that spoke to me in the live truck said, I am the resurrection and the life. Any man who believes in me, though he dies, yet he shall live. Jesus spoke these words just before he raised Lazarus from the dead.

The night before that heart attack, I was at a funeral home where the father of my best friend was lying in state for viewing. I mentioned to him that I had been having chest pains and thought that I would have a heart attack very soon and probably would not survive. Resigning to the fact that both my grandfathers had died prematurely, one was forty six and the other was fifty; I had pretty much thrown in the towel. I survived my first heart attack, and it was a good thing for I was not in the least prepared. I was saved, but that was about it. No will, no living will, no plans for anything for my family; not having filled out my 1989 IRS tax return, leaving it in a mess for them to figure out.

Six years later, while working on a story at Atlanta City Hall, I told Sally Sears, a reporter that I was having chest pains and that I needed to get to the hospital emergency room. The WSBTV assignment desk was alerted and the fine people at Georgia Baptist Hospital were waiting on me. On my way there, I began praying in tongues. My own cardiologist was notified and he came as quickly as he could. Meanwhile, Sally Sears and my immediate supervisor and friend, Janice Elder were kneeling by my gurney praying for me. Even though I was only half conscious, what I saw them do was simply overwhelming. I think I knew then that I would survive again. When my cardiologist spoke to me, he said that he didn't think that there would be anything he could do for me. I refused to accept that report, and continued to speak in tongues. I later found out that I was praying in Latin, a language I had never learned. For the next few hours, the waiting room at Georgia Baptist was filled with WSB people, so many that the hospital treated me as a v.i.p. and assigned a press liaison, George Ivey, to me who kept everybody updated on my condition.

The next four days were very critical for me; barely clinging onto life. The reports that my wife, family and friends were getting from the doctors were not in the least encouraging. I had undergone open heart surgery, and had been placed on a LVad machine, a heart pump, that no one had ever lived more that four days while attached to it. I was on it for almost a week. The call for prayer went out and there must have been thousands praying for me. I was placed into an induced coma where I was for fifteen days. During that time, I had a visitation from the Lord, not knowing if it were a dream, a vision, or an over active imagination fueled by drugs that had hallucinogenic side effects. It appeared more like stage production, with a beginning, middle, and an ending. I did not recall the visitation in chronological order, but rather piecemeal after I had come out of the coma. Being a video editor, I took the scene and edited it in my mind while conscious. The doctors told me that it was the drugs that caused the dream.

In the dream, I was naked, standing with bare feet in a dark, damp place. I could only see an faint outline of my surroundings which I immediately thought of as like the place of outer darkness as our Lord made reference. Then I saw a naked man, standing and somehow realized I was looking at myself. I was in deep despair because I thought that I was dead and would spend the rest of eternity there. Suddenly, I saw light coming from afar. I was approached by two orbs of light, one glowed reddish, and the other green. They were angels, large in size with wings that disappeared upon landing, wielding large swords. I immediately thought of the angel that banished Adam and Even out of the Garden of Eden once they partook of the tree of knowledge. My heart sank because I felt they were there to tell me that I would not be admitted into Heaven. As I felt at my lowest, another orb appeared, a golden one, with a bright white light coming from it. I could see the silhouette of a man holding a staff. He raised his free hand and I could see light coming through the hole in his wrist. Falling to my knees, I knew immediately it was the Lord. I could not look at the super bright image, and I covered my face in shame within my hands. I felt so ashamed; sobbing, as broken and contrite a person could be.

The Lord spoke to me, Dan, Dan, Dan, what am I to do with you? The Lord spoke to me like a father admonishing his son. He said that I was a double minded man and that I had to chose which I was going to be. A double minded man is unstable in all his ways, just as Judas Iscariot was. Judas loved to hear the pretty words of the Master, but did little in following any of His teachings. The Lord told me that I would live and not die, that he had something for me to do. He warned me about starting any kind of ministry, but to wait on Him and when I was ready, He would reveal what it is I am to do. Looking back, I feel the Lord wanted me to write which is what I'm doing now. Suddenly, the Lord and His two accompanying angels were gone.

It wasn't until I was taken off life support that I would begin to turn around.When I came out of the coma, I sat up on the edge of the bed in my room at St. Joseph's in Atlanta. I could see myself in the mirror. I saw a different person in the mirror. Somehow, miraculously, my countenance had returned.

The next three weeks were amazing. I was sent down to South Fulton Hospital in East Point where I would undergo rehab. It was discovered that the back side of my heart was dead, but miraculously, I was getting better. I was visited by doctors from Georgia Baptist because they were curious as to what they did to make me better. Ha! It turns out they were over medicating me. It was during the third week of my stay at South Fulton that they sent me home. I didn't do well at home, so I was readmitted to South Fulton. My personal cardiologist, Dr. Joseph DeJunco told me that if I didn't receive a heart transplant within six months, I would be dead. He revised the prognosis a few days later saying that if I didn't get a transplant within the next three months, I would be dead. A few days later, he revised my prognosis again saying that if I didn't receive a heart as soon as possible, I wasn't going to make it. I was contacted by Dr. Randy Martin, who was the Action News physician and told him of my situation. He got me into the Emory Heart Transplant program. That's all fine and dandy except it is a long and involved process and there is a waiting list as well as certain criteria one has to meet; such as blood and tissue types. I was getting weaker all the time, and I wasn't holding my breath; speaking figuratively, waiting to get all the details finalized .

Physically, I was at the point of being wheel chair confined, towing a canister of oxygen behind me. One Sunday morning, I wheeled into my church. My pastor was talking to a visiting evangelist from England. Suddenly, the visiting preacher, his name was Gordon White, turned and looked at me, and said, "God just told me to tell you that He's going to give you a new heart.' Under my breath, I muttered, "yeah, right." I had never seen this man in my life. The bottom line is here, in just forty one days, I had my new heart. The heart transplant itself was not the miracle; keeping me alive long enough to receive the transplant was the result of many miracles and the answer to a lot of prayers that people were praying for me. Going into one is a story in itself and for the sake of brevity, I'll skip the details.

The heart I received was that of a seventeen year old boy killed in a traffic accident. His heart was thirty six years younger than my body. I have had that heart going on fourteen years. It has been a good heart, and through much of that time, I have lived a high quality life, working at my job as a photojournalist; without a single organ rejection issue. Back in 1996 when I got the transplant, my cardiologist told me that the heart was only going to last an average of fifteen years. However, he expected the artificial heart would be a reality and I would not need another transplant. The artificial heart is still years away, so I'm frankly in the Hands of God because I am too old to qualify for another transplant.

For the last three years, my health has been in decline, starting with a dry cough which would not go away even with five rounds of antibiotics. Now, and as recent as eight weeks ago, my weight ballooned upwards to nearly three hundred pounds. My heart was getting weaker by the day. I was requiring the use of bottled oxygen more and more. With the combination of a weak heart and the huge weight gain, I had trouble walking, climbing stairs and breathing. I could barely fit in a wheel chair.

The diuretics that I had been taking were not working the way they are supposed to work.Eight weeks ago, when I was released from Emory, my doctors told me to go home and get my affairs in order, inform my family and friends, and prepare myself for the inevitable. I've done that. I have spent a great deal of time in prayer and continued to believe in healing, and I'm expecting nothing less than another miracle. I was released into home hospice care.

This is something that I must confess. It wasn't until recently that I actually overcame the fear of dying, It appeared that all the scriptures regarding healing were not getting results. I thought I was doing everything necessary; reciting and meditating on the healing scriptures and it wasn't working. As I continued to decline, I wondered if I had actually exceeded my limit on miracles. My faith started to buckle and my confidence in the Lord as my healer was being tested. I became afraid and more afraid as my doubts started to have an effect on me and my general disposition to those around me.

My good friend, David Mussell, the 82 year old patriarch of our church came to my house and gave me counseling. He had had a very difficult life and had to out of necessity depend on the Lord throughout most of his adult life. He related some of his own experiences which were much, much more than I've had to endure. He told me of the time when he had no job, he was on the verge of having his home auctioned off on the Fulton County Courthouse steps, and he had seven mouths to feed. He was at the end of his rope and his situation looked hopeless. He went to the Lord in prayer, pouring himself out to the Lord, saying that he could no longer fight the battle and the Lord would have to fight the battle for him. It was only then Pastor David turned his situation and his life over to the Lord that things began to turn around. The Lord saw him through. With that lessonI, too, have placed myself into His Hands. My complete trust and faith is in the One who has never lost a battle. My complete confidence is in Him.

In the last four weeks, things started to change. I am no longer wheelchair bound. The edema that I had in legs and feet has almost completely gone away. My body has eliminated over seventy pounds of water and I find it easier, to breathe without oxygen and to walk and go up and down stairs. I feel better overall, and I don't think about dying anymore. More imortant is my attitude. I pray a lot, no longer praying for myself, but for you and others who are suffering and are in need. I pray for this country and I spend quite a bit of time in private praise and worship. The way I look at this whole experience is that it was just God finding a way of showing what He can do; He just keeps on adding to my testimony.

Today, I consider myself healed. All my symptoms of congestive heart failure are gone. I feel the best I have felt in several years. However, more important now than ever before is that I finally have real peace and joy in my life. I am no longer afraid of dying because I rest in the Lord, and it is He who decides when it is time for me to move on. A miracle? You decide.

Those that wait upon the Lord will gain new strength. They shall mount up on the wings of eagles. They shall run and not be weary and walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31

He was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities, He took the chastisment of our peace upon Himself, and by His stripes, we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

TO GOD BE THE GLORY, FOR NOW AND FOREVER. AMEN

Dan Casey

VERONICA REECE; ONWARD TO GLORY

Whenever we lose someone close to us, we not only find it to a be a time of mourning, but a time when we question our faith as well. In our grieving process, we must come to terms with ourselves. Our first question to the Lord is, why? Sadly those who aren't rooted and grounded in the Word of God find it difficult to rationalize the tragedy and out of ignorance have the inclination to blame God. Why God, did You allow this to happen? I am reminded of the story in John chapter Eleven, that Martha met Jesus on the road to Lazurus' house after he had died, when she cried out to Him, "Lord, only if you had been here, he would not have died." Of course, we know the story how Jesus explained to her that Lazarus was sleeping. When Jesus arrived at Lazurus' house, mourners were carrying on in typical Jewish fashion. Jesus wept; not because Lazarus was dead and had been for four days, but because of their unbelief. Before Jesus raised Lazurus from the dead, He said this poignant verse, "I am the resurrection and the life, any man who believes in Me, though he were dead, yet he shall live." We know that Jesus was speaking of the after life, but He raised Lazurus from the dead, so that all that mourned for Lazurus would believe.

No one was any more shocked than I when my daughter informed me by telephone at 1:30 Sunday morning, that our former pastor and co-founder of Living Way Church had passed due to complications from pneumonia. At the time of this writing, I know few details. My wife Meg and I are deeply saddened by the passing of Veronica Reece. Our prayers and condolences go out to Pastor Scott and his family.

Certainly, the passing of Veronica Reece was untimely and completely unexpected. This should remind all of us, that nothing is as uncertain as life. No one knows when their soul is required of them, which is why it is of utmost importance that our salvation above everthing else be secured when we accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior.Knowing Bishop Scott Reece as I do, he is deeply grieved for having his beloved wife and mother of his children taken from him, but he would be the last one to blame God for his loss. I am confident that Bishop Reece will remain unshaken in his faith. During times like these, we can be truly thankful that our Lord has given us the Peace that Passes All Understanding.

Death is something we all are going to have to deal with; for death is part of living. Both spiritually and philosophically, we as Christians have an edge over the non believers in that our faith teaches us that death is not the final episode in the never ending journey through eternity. Right now, we cannot see the broader picture, only images that are conjured up when we were in Sunday School of the City of Golden Streets and the lion lying down with the kid. Just as the caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon, it has no foretaste of what happens next, only that in the spring, the precipice, the opening of the cocoon and a beautiful butterfly emerges. Death is simply a portal, that allows our spirit to travel from this world which is temporal to that one which is eternal. We can only imagine what it's like on the other side, but one thing is for sure; it will be glorious. We will be able to enjoy our new bodies; ones that don't grow old, get sick, and die, but a new one that will last forever. Being children of the Most High God, we can be thankful that He gave us the opportunity to be born again into His kingdom, through the free gift of eternal life through Him, we will once again meet with our loved ones who have gone on before us. My vivid, God given imagination shows me that now our beloved pastor, friend, mother and sister is sitting at the feet of Jesus, and He is holding her hand and she is grinning ear to ear.

Dan Casey 14 February 2010

ELVIS AND THE LORD

As I write this, Elvis Aaron Presley would have been seventy-five years old today. Like many of you, in my younger years, I was an Elvis fan. My wife actually had a date with him. Her dentist's office was across the street from Graceland in Memphis. Meg, my wife, who met Elvis through a friend through an insurance company where she worked, recalls that Elvis was rather short, about five-eight, and dyed his hair black.





Elvis was an isolated and lonely man; his manager Colonel Tom Parker made sure that Elvis was well protected and not over exposed. The Colonel's over protection probably indirectly contributed to his premature death. Being cooped up in one place for long periods of time, one is likely to get bored, one can get cabin fever and it opens the door for other things, unwanted things to enter in. My wife recalls that Elvis was not only nice, but super nice. He had rented a theater in Memphis and invited only his friends so that he could be with them. There was a double feature playing at the theater; neither were Elvis movies. The limo picked up Meg and her only contact with Elvis was at the theater where he kept asking her if she needed anything and wished her to have a good time. My wife didn't realize that Elvis had probably twenty dates that evening. The next evening, Elvis rented the fairgrounds after hours where it was reported that he was more like himself.





Being blessed with having the most perfect male singing voice, Elvis was becoming more and more popular while the hits just kept coming. His rapid success was suddenly interrupted when he was drafted by the Army. He didn't try to skirt or dodge his responsibility, but rather made it a part of the man called Elvis. He was treated like any other soldier, serving in Germany in the tank corp as a private. The Army basked in Elvis' popularity and the favorable press they received from it; even to let him perform occasionally. His managers saw this as another opportunity to exploit his immensely growing popularity, coming out with the movie, "GI Blues."





There were the tabloid stories concerning Elvis and his marriage to Priscilla, with its high visibility and social limelight, constantly being thrown on them. Elvis and Priscilla had some happy times, but the relationship became strained when Elvis retreated from her for reasons only known to them. Elvis began having doubts about his marriage to Priscilla which is what happens when a couple looking for either a trophy husband or wife, and in this case both, was a factor in the union. Priscilla sought more notoriety for herself because she had been relegated to a position to which was she was not accustomed, and although it wasn't obvious to the Elvis fans, there was contention between the two of them. Their breakup was plastered over the covers of every major tabloid magazine world wide.





Elvis was a high priced commodity, which Elvis often thought of more as a curse than a blessing. He resented being treated like an object, but being the nice, gracious and magnanimous, cooperative nice guy that he was, he was easily manipulated. In his prime, Elvis tucked away in the safe confines of Graceland, found himself even more miserable without Priscilla, and became lonelier than ever. He had trouble sleeping, and was more bored with his life in Graceland which had become a prison for him.





Elvis became the favorite topic for the tabloids. There were the alleged sexual affairs, the rumors of Elvis' voyeuristic tendencies; where he would watch others having sex either by closed circuit TV or one way mirrors. None of this was ever really proved; but as far as the media goes; don't let the truth stand in the way of a good story, especially if it sells magazines. Elvis' involvement with pain killers, barbiturates to help him sleep; uppers and downers, accompanied him when he went on the road, but went unchecked when he gave performances that left his audiences clamouring for more. The phrase, used after he had left the stage, "Elvis has left the building" became an adage that is used still today. Elvis was a true professional; never did he leave his fans disappointed. According a friend who was in one of the gospel groups that backed him up both in the recording studio and the concert tour told me, Everybody, literally everybody loved him. One of the most admirable events in Elvis' life that really helped form my final opinion of him was when he gave a concert in Atlanta at the now, only a memory, OMNI, there were thousands of counterfeit tickets sold and it left many fans bitterly disappointed because their seats were stolen from them. What did Elvis do? Elvis had another unscheduled concert following the one that he gave. That concert was also sold out, but Elvis himself made sure that those who had their seats stolen from them, had prime seats up front at the second concert. I have never before or since heard of anyone of doing this for their fans.





While it is true that Elvis didn't do as well as we would like in his last year or so, Elvis we must remember was not the perfect human; he had his faults and like so many, he fell victim to his own devices. Elvis died at Graceland on August 16, 1977. Within a day or so after Elvis' death, I was talking to Jim Howell, part of the Jim and John duo at WSB AM 750 before it became all news talk. Howell was the consummate Elvis fan as was John Moore. Jim wept when he heard the bad news of Elvis' death. I wasn't in a very good mood myself. I remember that there were millions of fans in mourning for the King of Rock and Roll. One of the reporters that I worked with at WSBTV News asked me, if I thought Elvis had gone to heaven; that there was no record that he knew of that he had ever been saved and that he was involved in some things that bordered on perversion. I emphatically told him, YES. The reasons I had this opinion were several. First, Elvis was born a poor sharecroppers son in Tupelo, Mississippi, who had a fundamentalist upbringing in the country church. He loved the Lord and you could tell it when he sung his Gospel songs. He would sing them as if he was singing them unto the Lord. A friend of mine who was a member of the Stamps Quartet, a group that frequently backed up Elvis in a number of his secular songs told me, that Elvis loved singing Gospel music. J. D. Sumner, the legendary bass singer for the Stamps quartet and the Blackwood Brothers loved Elvis and the two of them established new audiences for gospel music. It is one of those favorite stories that Elvis' only demand was that he wanted to make sure that J. D. Sumner's voice could be heard in the background. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-lMvnWr-51o J. D. knew that Elvis loved Gospel music. By working with Elvis, J. D. Sumner and the Stamps Quartet created a whole new fan base for gospel music. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70WJ4GD7I3Y Even though J. D. Sumner and the Stamps Quartet worked with Elvis, they maintained a full gospel itinerary, which presented the best of both worlds. Records would show that in the time frame they were working both arenas, they had the opportunity to present gospel music to more audiences and a larger number of people than anyone had, before that time. http://www.rollingstone.com/artists/elvispresley After a recording session, he would often invite the backup singers to Graceland and they would sing Gospel music until they couldn't sing anymore; often til daybreak. At all of Elvis' concerts, he would honor the Lord by singing, "How Great Thou Art" and the "Battle Hymn of the Republic." Elvis never won a Grammy for any of his secular music, but he won three Grammies for his Gospel Music.





Elvis did not have a mean bone in his body. Whenever someone would speak ill of another, Elvis would walk away, and the message that he conveyed resonated with everyone that knew him. Elvis' music transcended style by taking what was known as rockabilly, a combo of rock and hillbilly, and turning it into Rock and Roll. Even his rock and roll evolved into something more, that in his final years, he was singing American Trilogy and In the Ghetto.





For me, I don't want to remember any of the bad about Elvis, because I've got those areas of my life that I don't care to remember either. I want to look at the entire life, the man, a patriot, a talented musician and singer, and a lovable human being who was in love with the Lord.