Friday, March 7, 2014

We're moving!

Voice of Truth Ministry is moving to MrGus.net, a consolidation of several of my blogs. Now just one, and it is located here... http://www.mrgus.net. I hope you'll join me, and share in my stories of working with people, love of the outdoors, and helping people know and love God as they understand him.

Gus Koerner
From the field.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

The Daydawn is Breaking, a favorite hymn.

This isn't the first song I've shared on one of my blogs. Anyone who knows me, knows I love music, and knows I don't care who hears me when I sing.  The songs I love vary from hymns, to country and I have a partiality for old Baptist bluegrass.  Sometimes there are verses on religious music that I don't agree with, but that doesn't make the song any less worthy in my ears (or heart).  I even love a good patriotic song by Toby Keith or an occasional pop song.

The other morning I was driving post around the prison, making sure all was secure and the sun was rising, oh about thirty minutes before it actually came up.  Out of the blue, I just started singing the first line, "The day dawn is breaking, the world is awaking...".  The words popped into my head like I sang it yesterday, but in fact, I think its been over a decade.

The Day Dawn Is Breaking, no. 52
1. The day dawn is breaking, the world is awaking, The clouds of night's darkness are fleeing away. The worldwide commotion, from ocean to ocean, Now heralds the time of the beautiful day.

[Chorus] Beautiful day of peace and rest, Bright be thy dawn from east to west. Hail to thine earliest welcome ray, Beautiful, bright, millennial day.

3. Still let us be doing, our lessons reviewing, Which God has revealed for our walk in his way; And then, wondrous story, the Lord in his glory Will come in his pow'r in the beautiful day.

4. Then pure and supernal, our friendship eternal, With Jesus we'll live, and his counsels obey Until ev'ry nation will join in salvation And worship the Lord of the beautiful day.

Text: Joseph L. Townsend, 1849-1942
Music: William Clayson, 1840-1887

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Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Good Ol' Mr. Hicks, a story for Correctional Officers

Back in December 2012, when I interviewed for a job as a Florida Correctional Officer I had a meeting with the Warden, Mr. David McCallum. I recall he said, "Remember brown and blue don't mix."  He was referring to officers (who wear brown) crossing the ethical line of being too friendly with an inmates (in blue).  Some inmates may be genuine and reforming, but the majority can be manipulative and officers can fall prey to them.

That thought has been with me, especially lately as I've met some really nice guys that are inmates, seemingly harmless fellows over the age of 70.

Last week, I was chatting with four elderly inmates at  breakfast, and I later found out that three of the four are in for murder.  So I wrote this poem...

"My Friend Mr. Hicks", by a Correctional Officer to his colleagues.

1) I met this man the other day, we seemed to hit it off.  Kind and friendly was his way, my buddies seemed to scoff.

Refrain
Brown and blue were meant for you, remember they never mix.  Not even with a good ol' boy, like inmate Mr. Hicks.

2) His name is Walt and he has a fault that happened long time ago.  It doesn't matter how or why, the fact is that its so.

Refrain

3) His blues are faded, is heart is jaded, his mind not fully there. He's doing life, for killing his wife, and doesn't seem to care.

Brown and blue were meant for you, remember they never mix. Don't cross the line, or you'll do the time, like good ol' Mr. Hicks.

Fellow officers, be firm, fair and consistent, but don't cross the line. - FLDOC Officer G. Koerner, Jan. 8, 2013.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

On Post (For Peace)

The still of the night is only disturbed by the rush of traffic on my left, and the knowledge of people held behind razor wire on my right. But still there is an eerie peace, albeit false.  How can anyone or anything be at ease in this environment?

My mind wanders beyond this location to be back at home for stillness, rest and peace.  But is it there? I'm a frayed knot.

For amidst the shelter of a roof and protective walls, is a spirit of discord that has arisen from the conflict of every day life.  "My peace I leave with you." He says.  But where?

God grant me the ability to be an instrument of peace wherever I am.  Help me to know what I experience is normal, and peace comes from within, from our Savior.

Whether my surroundings are walls or wire, open air or the presence of others, let your serenity flow through me I pray.

G. Koerner, Jan. 6, 2014, 9pm.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

His Touch

1. I work my hands and the far reaches of my mind, to be the best I can. But yet I find, my efforts fall short of what I am supposed to be, what I was meant to become.
But somehow I move forward, somehow I progress, and in every step find loveliness and the touch of His holiness.

2. I've made peace with the cards I've been given, with the man I've been called to be. Realized that being forgiven is something that was meant for me.
And somehow I'll move forward, somehow I'll progress. In every step find loveliness in the touch of His holiness.

3. I realize grace in every moment. Try to accept it for the man that lies within. Knowing that what's in store can be more, if I give my life to Him.

I'm determined to move forward, somehow I'll progress. In every step find something lovely in the touch of His holiness.I'm determined to move forward, somehow I'll progress. In every step find something lovely in the touch of His holiness.

(Final) I am the man I'm supposed to be, finding grace in every step.  I know that it will get better, every inch a little closer, as I walk toward the man from Galilee.

G. Koerner
Jan. 1, 2014, 10:00pm

The Prodigal Parent

When I was a young man, my parents let me go. They loved me and trusted me to the extent I didn't know. When I messed up they didn't seem to mind; they loved me and forgave me and all was forgotten over time.

0h, how blessed is the prodigal parent, who prays, and teaches the lost. How indeed can I ever thank them? For my debt they incurred a great cost.

My brothers were'nt so lucky, my parent's anger quickly wore thin.  What I was able to freely do, to them it was a sin.

Consider the heart of the righteous, and blessed be the one, who doesn't have to learn life's lessons taught to a prodigal son.

My heart goes to the parent that does the best they can, who tries to make a proper choice for a boy to become a man.

Thank God we have a Savior who takes away all debt, the perfect parent up above, whom now mine have finally met.

0h, how blessed is the prodigal parent, who prays, and teaches the lost. How indeed can I ever thank them? For my debt they incurred a great cost.

A tribute to Karl and Irene Koerner, and all parents who pray for their children, from their son Gus. Jan. 2, 2014. Reference Luke 15:11-32.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

New format

I'm starting a new format with this post. It seems my life just doesn't allow me to spend much time at a computer like I once was able to. So at least for a while, future posts will be from my mobile device.

My new job as a Correectional Officer is giving me the opportunity to associate with people in an intimate fashion which I never have before, law enforcement and prison inmates. What a blessing it has been.