In 1994, I visited the Holy Land for 6 days with a group of ministers on what is known as an “introductory tour”. It’s purpose was to introduce us to the tour company who hoped we would return soon with a church group. It was inexpensive and even included the promise of a refund if we booked a group within a certain amount of time. It was a whirlwind. They wanted us to see and feel as much as possible, and they filled every moment of the day.
Initially, I flew to New York, and after joining the rest of the group, departed for Tel Aviv at 3:00 p.m. (local time). After an 11 hour flight, we landed at 7:00 a.m. (local time) and boarded the bus to begin touring. This was difficult enough, since my body thought it was actually 2 o’clock in the morning. But by 2:00 p.m. that day (9:00 a.m. body time) I had not slept in over 24 hours and had spent the whole time flying or touring. Our guide, seeing our weariness, stopped in mid sentence and said, "Do you want to go to the hotel?" We all nodded appreciatively.
I quickly learned that our group differed in priorities as much as we differed in denominational background. Several times I was surprised by what interested some of them. I remember the first glimpse we had of Jerusalem. We were coming up from Bethlehem and topped a hill. There in front of us was the Eastern Gate leading to the Temple Mount. We stopped to take pictures, and the first thing several of my colleagues did was go straight to a camel guy nearby to take pictures of him. I'm not criticizing their choice, I'm simply pointing out the differences in our point of interest. Before long, I mastered the ability to get ahead of these friends. It allowed me a brief moment with the Lord in some of the more spiritually thrilling places.
The Garden Tomb is one such place. It is "believed by many to be the garden and sepulchre of Joseph of Arimathea, and therefore a possible site of the resurrection of Jesus." [The Garden Tomb] In any case it has the look and feel of what Jesus' tomb was like. When we arrived, we were given a brief history and biblical reminder. Then we were led up a path through the forested part of the garden. We entered a small clearing with an amphatheatre type seating area and sat while the caretaker continued to share. We were instructed to look over our right shoulders. I was astonished to see the side of a cliff nearby with the distinct features of a skull. This was Gordon's Calvary, a possible site of the crucifixion.
As we rose to move on, I sensed that the tomb was next and politely worked my way to the front while the others took their time snapping pictures. I could not quite believe I was really there, and my excitement bagan to build as I moved along. There was one lady farther ahead, and as we both went down the path, my quick pace turned into a trot. Heart pounding, I cleared the trees, and the tomb appeared before me. I jogged down half a dozen steps into the open courtyard. Crossing it quickly, I passed the lady who had stopped outside the tomb to read a sign. Without stopping I stepped into the tomb.
Stone walls, cool and pitted by time... Chisel marks... A hewn out bed along one wall...but it wasn't finished...... Finally, I breathed. It was a long moment, and it's burned into my memory. I was given the gift of a few seconds alone in the empty tomb. Time stopped for me there, and I worshipped.
The others arrived, and I stepped out, partly to make room and partly to preserve my moment. Later I recalled my time in the Garden, and my experience seemed to have a strange familiarity. Then I remembered. In John 20, we are told:
3 At that, Peter and the other disciple went out, heading for the tomb. 4 The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and got to the tomb first. 5 Stooping down, he saw the linen cloths lying there, yet he did not go in. 6 Then, following him, Simon Peter came also. He entered the tomb and saw the linen cloths lying there. 7 The wrapping that had been on His head was not lying with the linen cloths but was folded up in a separate place by itself.
Chills ran through me then and do now 15 years later. Ordinary men... following their Lord... found His tomb empty. Centuries later, another ordinary man found the same thing. Jesus is risen. He has conquered death. The grave could not hold Him. The tomb is empty.
I know... I was there...
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Five Dollar Meal...
I wrote the following article the other day for our monthly church newsletter:
I attended a pastor’s conference in Jacksonville several years ago. The place was packed, and to help with meals, Chick-fil-A had set up a temporary sidewalk restaurant on the church property. After standing in line for a couple of minutes, I received my meal and handed my $5 bill to the man at the register. He said, “The man in front of you paid for yours.” Being nowhere near any of the people in my group, I knew it must be a stranger. Yet, when I looked up, there was no one. Although I could not thank the man who paid, I did offer thanks to God for the free meal.
First Baptist, Jacksonville covers several city blocks, and they have purchased and adapted a number of office buildings for use as classrooms. As I was exiting a building later in the day, a man stepped up to me and asked if I had any spare change for a meal. Instantly I saw what was happening. I replied, “I don’t have any money to give you, but I know where I can get you a meal.” As he walked away with his Chick-fil-A bag, I thanked God again. He had taught me a very important lesson. He knows exactly what He's doing.
He knows exactly what He’s doing at WLBC, too. We may not understand, but we are rarely meant to. I struggle with that. I want to understand everything that’s happening around me. By understanding, I’m able to give my approval (even silent approval) and therefore stay in control of the situation. But, God doesn’t work that way. He knows better than we that trust doesn’t involve understanding. Trust is relaxing into His arms and allowing Him to control everything.
I didn’t understand why my meal was paid for. But thanks be to God, my eyes were open, and when His plan was laid in front of me, I recognized it. A stranger was blessed with a meal and a kind word from the Lord, but I was blessed more. God has a plan for you and His church at West Lonsdale. Though we may not understand what is happening, we are responsible to be faithful. Faithful with our time… with our commitment to prayer and bible study… with our finances… with our… you name it, He owns it all.
Dear God, help us as we trust You. We trust You to provide for our needs and the needs of Your church. We commit ourselves to prayer and bible study and to faithful tithing. Keep our eyes open to Your plan, and bless us with experiences as we walk with You.
Not long after the article was finished and printing, I asked Angie, our custodian to meet me in the parking lot with a trash can. Someone had recently driven by with a load of gravel and left a good bit of it on the road next to our parking lot. It was spreading and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I gathered shovels and brooms, and we began to gather it up. But after only a couple of shovels full, it was obvious the trash can was not up to the task. Planning to bring my wheel barrow the next day, I thanked Angie for her effort and we left the gravel where it was.
About an hour later, a familiar sound outside startled me. It took a moment to register, but when it did, I jumped up and ran outside to see. It was the street sweeper. He was gobbling up our pile of gravel like my 100 pound dog eats his breakfast. I rejoiced. God knew our need and had a plan all the time. He allowed me to try and to fail so I would understand and see His provision. God has a unique way of confirming His messages.
Later that same day, I was on my way to the hospital to see one of our church children. I stopped by the store to pick up some puzzle books for her and while standing in line, I experienced a moment of impatience. I was in a hurry, but the lady in front of me was taking her time. Also, the cashier seemed determined to have a meaningful conversation with every customer. I sighed to myself, and after finally paying, hurried off to the hospital to minister.
As I arrived, I stopped by the volunteer counter for information and then entered the elevator behind another man. He asked, “Which floor?” “Two,” I replied. There is a strange unspoken rule for elevators. You’re not supposed to talk to people unless the ice has been broken. By asking me my floor, he was giving me permission to talk. I asked if he was having a good day, and he replied, “No. My daughter probably won’t make it through the night.”
There were no words to say. All I could mutter was, “I’m so sorry.” I was able to ask her age. She was 18. As we both left the elevator at the second floor, I said I would pray for him, and then I watched him walk down the hallway. I just stood there watching, knowing I should find after my visit. A nurse asked me if I needed help, and after I explained, she indicated she would help me later.
After my first visit, I walked down the hallway where the man had gone. The nurse was there and she went into the room and said, “There’s a gentleman here to see you.” When he came out, I saw the fatigue in his face. I identified myself and told him that I didn’t want to intrude but couldn’t leave without speaking to him and letting him know again that people would be praying for him.
He described her situation and said she didn’t want to stay that way, so they were letting her go. He seemed uncomfortable, so I didn’t push, but offered my name and number, “…if you need anything at all.” He said he knew she would be better off, and I asked if she knew Jesus Christ. He said they both did, and I reminded him that she will be free and they will be together again someday. It was a brief encounter, but one that blessed us both. As I left, the nurse said, “He hasn’t opened up to anyone before.” Wow!
Later it occurred to me that if I had arrived a minute earlier, I would have missed him. The delay at the store was not an inconvenience after all. It was part of God’s plan and for my benefit. I smiled as I looked back on God’s confirmations that day. He really does know what He’s doing.
Addendum…
Three days later, I was at the same store in the same line with the same cashier. I was again in a hurry, and she was starting up her conversation with the lady in front of me. My impatience only lasted a moment when God tapped me on the shoulder. Remembering the other day, I chuckled to myself and relaxed. Little did I know, God was again at work lining me up for an encounter.
As I left the store, two teenage girls hurried up to me with what appeared to be candy fundraiser boxes in their arms. One of them gave the speech about raising money for their church group to go to camp and grow spiritually. She then dramatically opened the box to show me their stained glass window hangers. I said I didn’t want to buy any, but asked, “What church is it?” She replied, “The Unification Church.”
She then asked if wanted to give a donation. I replied, “No. I’m a Christian and there are a number of things we disagree about. So, I can’t support you financially. But I would like to give you this. Jesus Christ and His death on the cross is the only answer for our sin. There is nothing else that will take care of it. Only Him alone.” The were gracious, and we parted cordially.
As I stepped to my car, the window of the car next to me opened. The lady, who had just been able to miss the girls and their sales pitch, asked me, “What were they selling?” I replied, “Do you remember the Moonies? They were the ones selling roses on the roadside. That’s them.” I was then able to speak the same truth about Jesus to her.
Again, God spoke mightily to me. He is the author of every day of my life. He has a plan for every moment, and no encounter is an accident. Whether I can share the entire gospel or only a kind Christ-like attitude, I must see these moments with His eyes.
I attended a pastor’s conference in Jacksonville several years ago. The place was packed, and to help with meals, Chick-fil-A had set up a temporary sidewalk restaurant on the church property. After standing in line for a couple of minutes, I received my meal and handed my $5 bill to the man at the register. He said, “The man in front of you paid for yours.” Being nowhere near any of the people in my group, I knew it must be a stranger. Yet, when I looked up, there was no one. Although I could not thank the man who paid, I did offer thanks to God for the free meal.
First Baptist, Jacksonville covers several city blocks, and they have purchased and adapted a number of office buildings for use as classrooms. As I was exiting a building later in the day, a man stepped up to me and asked if I had any spare change for a meal. Instantly I saw what was happening. I replied, “I don’t have any money to give you, but I know where I can get you a meal.” As he walked away with his Chick-fil-A bag, I thanked God again. He had taught me a very important lesson. He knows exactly what He's doing.
He knows exactly what He’s doing at WLBC, too. We may not understand, but we are rarely meant to. I struggle with that. I want to understand everything that’s happening around me. By understanding, I’m able to give my approval (even silent approval) and therefore stay in control of the situation. But, God doesn’t work that way. He knows better than we that trust doesn’t involve understanding. Trust is relaxing into His arms and allowing Him to control everything.
I didn’t understand why my meal was paid for. But thanks be to God, my eyes were open, and when His plan was laid in front of me, I recognized it. A stranger was blessed with a meal and a kind word from the Lord, but I was blessed more. God has a plan for you and His church at West Lonsdale. Though we may not understand what is happening, we are responsible to be faithful. Faithful with our time… with our commitment to prayer and bible study… with our finances… with our… you name it, He owns it all.
Dear God, help us as we trust You. We trust You to provide for our needs and the needs of Your church. We commit ourselves to prayer and bible study and to faithful tithing. Keep our eyes open to Your plan, and bless us with experiences as we walk with You.
Not long after the article was finished and printing, I asked Angie, our custodian to meet me in the parking lot with a trash can. Someone had recently driven by with a load of gravel and left a good bit of it on the road next to our parking lot. It was spreading and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I gathered shovels and brooms, and we began to gather it up. But after only a couple of shovels full, it was obvious the trash can was not up to the task. Planning to bring my wheel barrow the next day, I thanked Angie for her effort and we left the gravel where it was.
About an hour later, a familiar sound outside startled me. It took a moment to register, but when it did, I jumped up and ran outside to see. It was the street sweeper. He was gobbling up our pile of gravel like my 100 pound dog eats his breakfast. I rejoiced. God knew our need and had a plan all the time. He allowed me to try and to fail so I would understand and see His provision. God has a unique way of confirming His messages.
Later that same day, I was on my way to the hospital to see one of our church children. I stopped by the store to pick up some puzzle books for her and while standing in line, I experienced a moment of impatience. I was in a hurry, but the lady in front of me was taking her time. Also, the cashier seemed determined to have a meaningful conversation with every customer. I sighed to myself, and after finally paying, hurried off to the hospital to minister.
As I arrived, I stopped by the volunteer counter for information and then entered the elevator behind another man. He asked, “Which floor?” “Two,” I replied. There is a strange unspoken rule for elevators. You’re not supposed to talk to people unless the ice has been broken. By asking me my floor, he was giving me permission to talk. I asked if he was having a good day, and he replied, “No. My daughter probably won’t make it through the night.”
There were no words to say. All I could mutter was, “I’m so sorry.” I was able to ask her age. She was 18. As we both left the elevator at the second floor, I said I would pray for him, and then I watched him walk down the hallway. I just stood there watching, knowing I should find after my visit. A nurse asked me if I needed help, and after I explained, she indicated she would help me later.
After my first visit, I walked down the hallway where the man had gone. The nurse was there and she went into the room and said, “There’s a gentleman here to see you.” When he came out, I saw the fatigue in his face. I identified myself and told him that I didn’t want to intrude but couldn’t leave without speaking to him and letting him know again that people would be praying for him.
He described her situation and said she didn’t want to stay that way, so they were letting her go. He seemed uncomfortable, so I didn’t push, but offered my name and number, “…if you need anything at all.” He said he knew she would be better off, and I asked if she knew Jesus Christ. He said they both did, and I reminded him that she will be free and they will be together again someday. It was a brief encounter, but one that blessed us both. As I left, the nurse said, “He hasn’t opened up to anyone before.” Wow!
Later it occurred to me that if I had arrived a minute earlier, I would have missed him. The delay at the store was not an inconvenience after all. It was part of God’s plan and for my benefit. I smiled as I looked back on God’s confirmations that day. He really does know what He’s doing.
Addendum…
Three days later, I was at the same store in the same line with the same cashier. I was again in a hurry, and she was starting up her conversation with the lady in front of me. My impatience only lasted a moment when God tapped me on the shoulder. Remembering the other day, I chuckled to myself and relaxed. Little did I know, God was again at work lining me up for an encounter.
As I left the store, two teenage girls hurried up to me with what appeared to be candy fundraiser boxes in their arms. One of them gave the speech about raising money for their church group to go to camp and grow spiritually. She then dramatically opened the box to show me their stained glass window hangers. I said I didn’t want to buy any, but asked, “What church is it?” She replied, “The Unification Church.”
She then asked if wanted to give a donation. I replied, “No. I’m a Christian and there are a number of things we disagree about. So, I can’t support you financially. But I would like to give you this. Jesus Christ and His death on the cross is the only answer for our sin. There is nothing else that will take care of it. Only Him alone.” The were gracious, and we parted cordially.
As I stepped to my car, the window of the car next to me opened. The lady, who had just been able to miss the girls and their sales pitch, asked me, “What were they selling?” I replied, “Do you remember the Moonies? They were the ones selling roses on the roadside. That’s them.” I was then able to speak the same truth about Jesus to her.
Again, God spoke mightily to me. He is the author of every day of my life. He has a plan for every moment, and no encounter is an accident. Whether I can share the entire gospel or only a kind Christ-like attitude, I must see these moments with His eyes.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Oh my head...
I’ve been updating the house lately. A new coat of paint, new window treatments, new bed linens.… I’ve even replaced all the receptacles and light switches with nice new white ones. I’m a perfectionist, so even the hidden receptacles need to be replaced (in my humble but accurate opinion.) The other day I moved out the refrigerator to get to the plug behind it. After acquiring the space to maneuver, I plunged into the job. One problem…I forgot to duck. A shooting pain in the side of my head reminded me of the cabinet, and I dropped to the floor in pain, quoting King James English the whole way, “Verily, verily! Behold! That hurteth!!
It’s not the first (nor the 85th) time I’ve hit my head, but it was the first time I’d drawn blood. After the initial pain eased, I saw the blood on my fingers. It was more than a scratch, but definitely not the gusher I expected, and without someone with me, I couldn’t tell how bad it was. I didn’t want to go to the ER just to check, so I did the only thing I could…I called Ralph. He’s our resident nurse at church.
It was Saturday and he was on his way to Lowes, so I met him there. There in the parking lot, he confirmed it. “Yeah, you could use a stitch or two.” So, that’s how I got 3 staples in my head. After the initial hit, it never really hurt again, except the next morning when I forgot to be careful washing my hair. It was a great conversation starter though, and I never realized how many people would worry about my well being until a passing reference wound up on Facebook.
Now, I told you that story to tell you this one.
Several years ago I was trimming the big Kwanzan Cherry in my front yard. I’m always hesitant to cut limbs, because you can’t put them back, but this thing was really in the way.
I decided to remove a few bottom limbs to make it easier to mow and snipped the first one-inch branch. As I reached with the loppers for the second branch, I saw some movement in the corner of my eye. In the eternity that was a second or so, I focused in on four hornets that were coming in my direction. They were in echelon formation diving and then turning left in a sweeping upward arc. They reminded me of a flight of World War II fighter planes, positioning themselves for the coveted belly shot.
As they approached my face, I instinctively began swatting with my hands while simultaneously running backward and blowing out my nose and mouth. (I had long ago dropped the loppers.) The lead hornet, taking advantage of this training opportunity, decided to show his flight how it’s done. Undaunted by the turbulence I was creating, he deftly piloted himself toward his target. Reaching his destination, he began to lay his ordinance.
As he flew up my nostril, my eyes widened in shock and fear. Instantly, I blew harder and he was thrown out, but not before he got his stinger into me. Having done his damage, the lead hornet gathered the flight and returned to the hive, no doubt to regale the other hornets with tales of his feat and celebrate into the night.
I've been stung by Yellow Jackets with no serious result, so I didn’t think I was allergic. But I’ve never had a run in with hornets. That and the location of the strike made me a little nervous, so I called Ralph. (Great guy, Ralph.)
“What should I do for a hornet sting?” I asked.
“Put meat tenderizer on it,” Ralph replied.
Still in a bit of shock, I said, “No Ralph, it’s my nose.”
So Ralph said, “Ok, put ice on it.”
I blinked a couple of times, and then said, “No Ralph, it’s in my nose…he flew UP my nose.”
“Oh,” said Ralph. (He’s one cool customer. No panic. If I ever have something serious happen to me, I want him there.)
“Get some liquid Benadryl, you’ll be fine,” he said.
Later, after I had followed his instructions, I called him back and asked, “What do I do if I get an ice cube stuck up my nose?”
“Wait for it to melt,” he replied.
It’s not the first (nor the 85th) time I’ve hit my head, but it was the first time I’d drawn blood. After the initial pain eased, I saw the blood on my fingers. It was more than a scratch, but definitely not the gusher I expected, and without someone with me, I couldn’t tell how bad it was. I didn’t want to go to the ER just to check, so I did the only thing I could…I called Ralph. He’s our resident nurse at church.
It was Saturday and he was on his way to Lowes, so I met him there. There in the parking lot, he confirmed it. “Yeah, you could use a stitch or two.” So, that’s how I got 3 staples in my head. After the initial hit, it never really hurt again, except the next morning when I forgot to be careful washing my hair. It was a great conversation starter though, and I never realized how many people would worry about my well being until a passing reference wound up on Facebook.
Now, I told you that story to tell you this one.Several years ago I was trimming the big Kwanzan Cherry in my front yard. I’m always hesitant to cut limbs, because you can’t put them back, but this thing was really in the way.
I decided to remove a few bottom limbs to make it easier to mow and snipped the first one-inch branch. As I reached with the loppers for the second branch, I saw some movement in the corner of my eye. In the eternity that was a second or so, I focused in on four hornets that were coming in my direction. They were in echelon formation diving and then turning left in a sweeping upward arc. They reminded me of a flight of World War II fighter planes, positioning themselves for the coveted belly shot.As they approached my face, I instinctively began swatting with my hands while simultaneously running backward and blowing out my nose and mouth. (I had long ago dropped the loppers.) The lead hornet, taking advantage of this training opportunity, decided to show his flight how it’s done. Undaunted by the turbulence I was creating, he deftly piloted himself toward his target. Reaching his destination, he began to lay his ordinance.
As he flew up my nostril, my eyes widened in shock and fear. Instantly, I blew harder and he was thrown out, but not before he got his stinger into me. Having done his damage, the lead hornet gathered the flight and returned to the hive, no doubt to regale the other hornets with tales of his feat and celebrate into the night.
I've been stung by Yellow Jackets with no serious result, so I didn’t think I was allergic. But I’ve never had a run in with hornets. That and the location of the strike made me a little nervous, so I called Ralph. (Great guy, Ralph.)
“What should I do for a hornet sting?” I asked.
“Put meat tenderizer on it,” Ralph replied.
Still in a bit of shock, I said, “No Ralph, it’s my nose.”
So Ralph said, “Ok, put ice on it.”
I blinked a couple of times, and then said, “No Ralph, it’s in my nose…he flew UP my nose.”
“Oh,” said Ralph. (He’s one cool customer. No panic. If I ever have something serious happen to me, I want him there.)
“Get some liquid Benadryl, you’ll be fine,” he said.
Later, after I had followed his instructions, I called him back and asked, “What do I do if I get an ice cube stuck up my nose?”
“Wait for it to melt,” he replied.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Reflecting on My Mother...
I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was at Children’s Hospital to have my tonsils removed, and this well-meaning nurse was attempting to draw some blood. Now, I want to say right up front…I like nurses. They’re nice people, and I appreciate the difficult job they do. That said, either this nurse was having a bad week, or my vein wasn’t cooperating, or she just wasn’t very good. Whatever the reason, I spent quite a few minutes in agony, until my mother demanded she leave and send in another to do the job.
Then there was the time I chased that ball down the hill and into the street, only to stumble over the curb and land on my right knee, tearing my jeans and the flesh underneath. (I can still show you the scar.) In tears, I ran home where Dr. Mom was ready to fly into action. Why is it that relief comes from your mother and no one else?
Then there was the time I rode my bike into the street right in front of that car. Laying in Emergency at the hospital with a broken left leg and a slight concussion, my strongest memory is when my parents arrived at my side. As any child might be, I was upset because of the trouble I had caused. But, quickly I realized they were only concerned about me…not about having to leave the restaurant early.
As Mother’s Day approaches each year, I am flooded with many such memories. Times of broken toys, broken bones and broken hearts. The one constant is that my mother was always there. She was there to protect, to mend, to encourage, to reassure. And there’s nothing quite like hearing your mother say “You did great!”
Isn’t that just like God? He’s here to protect you, to heal you, to encourage you, to reassure you. And, oh, the joy on that day when we’ll hear Him say, “Well done!” Mothers have the unique opportunity to show a side of God that we’ll see nowhere else. I’m grateful He gave me the mother I have. I’m grateful we have become the friends we are today. And though I don’t say it often enough, I say it now…
Thanks Mama. I Love You!
Isaiah 66:13 As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you...
Then there was the time I chased that ball down the hill and into the street, only to stumble over the curb and land on my right knee, tearing my jeans and the flesh underneath. (I can still show you the scar.) In tears, I ran home where Dr. Mom was ready to fly into action. Why is it that relief comes from your mother and no one else?
Then there was the time I rode my bike into the street right in front of that car. Laying in Emergency at the hospital with a broken left leg and a slight concussion, my strongest memory is when my parents arrived at my side. As any child might be, I was upset because of the trouble I had caused. But, quickly I realized they were only concerned about me…not about having to leave the restaurant early.
As Mother’s Day approaches each year, I am flooded with many such memories. Times of broken toys, broken bones and broken hearts. The one constant is that my mother was always there. She was there to protect, to mend, to encourage, to reassure. And there’s nothing quite like hearing your mother say “You did great!”
Isn’t that just like God? He’s here to protect you, to heal you, to encourage you, to reassure you. And, oh, the joy on that day when we’ll hear Him say, “Well done!” Mothers have the unique opportunity to show a side of God that we’ll see nowhere else. I’m grateful He gave me the mother I have. I’m grateful we have become the friends we are today. And though I don’t say it often enough, I say it now…
Thanks Mama. I Love You!
Isaiah 66:13 As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you...
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Influence...
I Timothy 4:12 "...you should be an example to the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity."
It's something we forget about, the influence we have on others. Especially surprising is a child's revelation about some characteristic they've seen. Children watch... and learn. Take Dalton for example. I teach elementary school boys on Wednesday night. In addition to lessons about God and missionaries, we play rough and rowdy games, say pledges and such... real man stuff. Tonight was no different, and before we were finished, the girls let out of their class. A couple of them stopped at our door as we finished our closing prayer and started into the room. One of my boys called out, "Hey, no girls aloud!" I smiled proudly, and chuckled to myself, "The 'He-man Woman Haters Club' is alive and well."
As we were leaving, the boys asked if we could go to the gym. They said they wanted to go where the girls were not. I asked why and they responded, "They're bossy." I laughed and said I had to go to choir practice, so they would have to go to the playground with the girls. As we descended the stairs, Dalton said, "Not our sisters... it's..." and named the "bossy" one. Again I smiled, and as we stepped out of the building, they took off running. But Dalton stayed back. As he and I walked, he spoke up again.
"I'm never going to date a girl!"
"Oh?" I replied. "Never?"
He thought for a moment and then said...
"Yeah... like you..."
It's something we forget about, the influence we have on others. Especially surprising is a child's revelation about some characteristic they've seen. Children watch... and learn. Take Dalton for example. I teach elementary school boys on Wednesday night. In addition to lessons about God and missionaries, we play rough and rowdy games, say pledges and such... real man stuff. Tonight was no different, and before we were finished, the girls let out of their class. A couple of them stopped at our door as we finished our closing prayer and started into the room. One of my boys called out, "Hey, no girls aloud!" I smiled proudly, and chuckled to myself, "The 'He-man Woman Haters Club' is alive and well."
As we were leaving, the boys asked if we could go to the gym. They said they wanted to go where the girls were not. I asked why and they responded, "They're bossy." I laughed and said I had to go to choir practice, so they would have to go to the playground with the girls. As we descended the stairs, Dalton said, "Not our sisters... it's..." and named the "bossy" one. Again I smiled, and as we stepped out of the building, they took off running. But Dalton stayed back. As he and I walked, he spoke up again.
"I'm never going to date a girl!"
"Oh?" I replied. "Never?"
He thought for a moment and then said...
"Yeah... like you..."
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Garage Sales...
A garage sale is a great way to observe people. It's humanity in microcosm. First, you have the early risers. They're the ones who greet you as you open the garage door. They eagerly move past you to get a first look, even while you're struggling to set everything up. I had not even put out the neighborhood signs yesterday when the first two people showed up. It reminded me of a sale years ago. It was on our open carport, and first thing that morning my dad discovered a lady digging through the items in the dark.
Then there are the flea marketers. These are professional shoppers. They go from sale to sale, looking for items they can resell at their flea market booths. They are shrewd buyers with a quick eye, wasting no time with things most people examine. They usually go for the glass items. Figurines and salt and pepper shakers for example. My sister unloaded a large number of items right away, and I'm convinced she could have made more money. But she was just happy to get rid of them all.
Next are the compulsive shoppers. They have the "child in a candy store" mentality. They hardly slow down as they move through the tables, randomly grabbing items and exclaiming such things as, "That will look great on my couch!" In mere seconds they are at the money table with an armload of items and ask, "Can I leave these here for a minute?" They don't need any of this junk, and I know I'm contributing to problem, but frankly, I don't care. Better for them to have this stuff than me.
Also shopping are the critics. They are the ones who bring you an item and begin telling you what is wrong with it. They will argue with you and tear down the value of your merchandise all in an effort to get a better deal. They want something for nothing and will insult you if they don't get it. I rarely bargain with them.
You have the conversationalist shopper. He likes people, and my garage sale is just an excuse to get out and talk to someone. I had some good conversations this weekend. My dad would love it. He lives for conversations with strangers. He can talk for an hour with someone he just met, and if someone picked up one of his items, he's prepared to relate its entire history.
You also have the drive-by shoppers. I wave at them, but they don't usually wave back. They are busy concentrating as they scan my merchandise for just that sought for item.
And then there are the children. Precious creatures who pick up interesting things and say, "Mommy, I want this!" to which I reply, "I'll make you a deal on that." I decided a long time ago that it's not my job to teach them respect or self-control. My job is to move the stuff out. So what if I contribute a little to their delinquency. OK, I'm only joking.
This morning, the second sale day, I had a few minutes after the initial rush to sit with nothing to do. Having pulled my office chair outside, I enjoyed the cool breeze as it blew through the Kwanzan Cherry tree which shades the front porch. Recently fallen blossoms covered the ground and gave the appearance of pink snow. The azaleas, blooming coral red waved cheerfully at me. It was an unexpected gift...a precious peaceful moment. I know now that God was preparing me for an interesting day.
All the personalities I've described were present today. In addition to them, I was visited by some even more interesting characters. They were a young couple. They came in and excitedly began looking at various trinkets. I was explaining something to the young lady and noticed something peculiar. As she was speaking, I thought, "She's thin, but her muscle tone is good." Then, looking at her face, I thought "Does she need to shav...?" That's when it hit me. "This is no lady," I thought.
What I had failed to see before became clear. But, I was happy that I had treated them with respect and normalcy instead of with the revulsion I now felt. Perhaps God kept my from seeing at first for that reason. We continued on and they purchased some items. As they left, I was seated again and looked up just before one of them looked back at me. I waved, but he thought I had been staring, and happily said so to the other one. It's a shame people will do such things for attention.
In a totally opposite situation, an older couple came through and saw the table and chairs for sale. It belonged to my sisters. When they moved out to an apartment together a number of years ago, they bought the unfinished set and stained and finished it themselves. Carol has been keeping them and put some new pillows on the seats, but it was time to let go. The couple spoke of a family member who had suffered some setbacks, both medical and financial. This set would be perfect for her, so they called and she came.
As the lady sat studying the table, she asked, "What's your bottom price?" We were asking $95, so I thought for a moment and said, "$80." I was prepared to be bargained down a bit, but without hesitation, she reached into her pocket and brought out a group of bills folded together. I looked, and it was four $20 bills. Later, the first lady told me that they were prepared to help with any extra cost, because $80 was all she had. I've said before I don't believe in coincidence. This was God's confirmation. He was showing His presence and work in both our lives.
Later in the day, it began to get hot. I was grateful for the shade but was still baking while talking to people. One lady, who obviously spent the day in the car looking for sales, picked up a pitcher and said, "If I buy this, will you put cold water in it?" Smiling, I gave it back to her with ice water and 2 cups for her and her friend.
Finally, as I was just about to begin closing up, a lady showed up and immediately began talking as she walked into the drive. She told me how, 4 years ago, she lost her daughter in a car accident. She related how angry she was that the driver had survived unhurt but that her daughter had been killed. She told of her other daughter and the bad decisions she had made. She went on with the consequences of those decisions. I spoke little and listened much. I thought it was her way of coping, reciting her litany of woes to every stranger she meets. Perhaps she does, but something in me said, "Listen." So I listened and encouraged...
When it was obviously time for me to respond, I shared how our lives are filled with pain, not necessarily because of God's displeasure, but definitely because of the fallen state of this world. She admitted that she had been angry at God, but had come to understand that she can be hopeful, too. I asked if she knew Jesus Christ as her personal Savior. She said she did and that He was her only strength. As she was turning to leave, I asked if I could pray with her. There in my driveway amid tables of merchandise we prayed together.
I prayed for her grief and for her living daughter. I prayed that God would comfort her in her loss. I prayed that He would show her a glimpse of our future...a future that will cause us to look back with amazement at how quickly this life and it's pain really passes.
When we finished she told me I had made her day. Little did she know that God had used her to make mine. Throughout the day He showed me examples of His desire for my life. He showed me what he wants me to be and do. He showed me He works even in Garage Sales. I am grateful for the exposure to the people He loves. He reminded me that I am His ambassador. Treating them with love rather than contempt, patience rather than haste, generosity rather than greed, compassion rather than annoyance.
I am reminded of His instruction:
Philippians 2:5 Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus
And of the benefit:
Acts 4:13 When they observed the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed and knew that they had been with Jesus.
I want people to know I've been with my Master.
Then there are the flea marketers. These are professional shoppers. They go from sale to sale, looking for items they can resell at their flea market booths. They are shrewd buyers with a quick eye, wasting no time with things most people examine. They usually go for the glass items. Figurines and salt and pepper shakers for example. My sister unloaded a large number of items right away, and I'm convinced she could have made more money. But she was just happy to get rid of them all.
Next are the compulsive shoppers. They have the "child in a candy store" mentality. They hardly slow down as they move through the tables, randomly grabbing items and exclaiming such things as, "That will look great on my couch!" In mere seconds they are at the money table with an armload of items and ask, "Can I leave these here for a minute?" They don't need any of this junk, and I know I'm contributing to problem, but frankly, I don't care. Better for them to have this stuff than me.
Also shopping are the critics. They are the ones who bring you an item and begin telling you what is wrong with it. They will argue with you and tear down the value of your merchandise all in an effort to get a better deal. They want something for nothing and will insult you if they don't get it. I rarely bargain with them.
You have the conversationalist shopper. He likes people, and my garage sale is just an excuse to get out and talk to someone. I had some good conversations this weekend. My dad would love it. He lives for conversations with strangers. He can talk for an hour with someone he just met, and if someone picked up one of his items, he's prepared to relate its entire history.
You also have the drive-by shoppers. I wave at them, but they don't usually wave back. They are busy concentrating as they scan my merchandise for just that sought for item.
And then there are the children. Precious creatures who pick up interesting things and say, "Mommy, I want this!" to which I reply, "I'll make you a deal on that." I decided a long time ago that it's not my job to teach them respect or self-control. My job is to move the stuff out. So what if I contribute a little to their delinquency. OK, I'm only joking.
This morning, the second sale day, I had a few minutes after the initial rush to sit with nothing to do. Having pulled my office chair outside, I enjoyed the cool breeze as it blew through the Kwanzan Cherry tree which shades the front porch. Recently fallen blossoms covered the ground and gave the appearance of pink snow. The azaleas, blooming coral red waved cheerfully at me. It was an unexpected gift...a precious peaceful moment. I know now that God was preparing me for an interesting day.
All the personalities I've described were present today. In addition to them, I was visited by some even more interesting characters. They were a young couple. They came in and excitedly began looking at various trinkets. I was explaining something to the young lady and noticed something peculiar. As she was speaking, I thought, "She's thin, but her muscle tone is good." Then, looking at her face, I thought "Does she need to shav...?" That's when it hit me. "This is no lady," I thought.
What I had failed to see before became clear. But, I was happy that I had treated them with respect and normalcy instead of with the revulsion I now felt. Perhaps God kept my from seeing at first for that reason. We continued on and they purchased some items. As they left, I was seated again and looked up just before one of them looked back at me. I waved, but he thought I had been staring, and happily said so to the other one. It's a shame people will do such things for attention.
In a totally opposite situation, an older couple came through and saw the table and chairs for sale. It belonged to my sisters. When they moved out to an apartment together a number of years ago, they bought the unfinished set and stained and finished it themselves. Carol has been keeping them and put some new pillows on the seats, but it was time to let go. The couple spoke of a family member who had suffered some setbacks, both medical and financial. This set would be perfect for her, so they called and she came.
As the lady sat studying the table, she asked, "What's your bottom price?" We were asking $95, so I thought for a moment and said, "$80." I was prepared to be bargained down a bit, but without hesitation, she reached into her pocket and brought out a group of bills folded together. I looked, and it was four $20 bills. Later, the first lady told me that they were prepared to help with any extra cost, because $80 was all she had. I've said before I don't believe in coincidence. This was God's confirmation. He was showing His presence and work in both our lives.
Later in the day, it began to get hot. I was grateful for the shade but was still baking while talking to people. One lady, who obviously spent the day in the car looking for sales, picked up a pitcher and said, "If I buy this, will you put cold water in it?" Smiling, I gave it back to her with ice water and 2 cups for her and her friend.
Finally, as I was just about to begin closing up, a lady showed up and immediately began talking as she walked into the drive. She told me how, 4 years ago, she lost her daughter in a car accident. She related how angry she was that the driver had survived unhurt but that her daughter had been killed. She told of her other daughter and the bad decisions she had made. She went on with the consequences of those decisions. I spoke little and listened much. I thought it was her way of coping, reciting her litany of woes to every stranger she meets. Perhaps she does, but something in me said, "Listen." So I listened and encouraged...
When it was obviously time for me to respond, I shared how our lives are filled with pain, not necessarily because of God's displeasure, but definitely because of the fallen state of this world. She admitted that she had been angry at God, but had come to understand that she can be hopeful, too. I asked if she knew Jesus Christ as her personal Savior. She said she did and that He was her only strength. As she was turning to leave, I asked if I could pray with her. There in my driveway amid tables of merchandise we prayed together.
I prayed for her grief and for her living daughter. I prayed that God would comfort her in her loss. I prayed that He would show her a glimpse of our future...a future that will cause us to look back with amazement at how quickly this life and it's pain really passes.
When we finished she told me I had made her day. Little did she know that God had used her to make mine. Throughout the day He showed me examples of His desire for my life. He showed me what he wants me to be and do. He showed me He works even in Garage Sales. I am grateful for the exposure to the people He loves. He reminded me that I am His ambassador. Treating them with love rather than contempt, patience rather than haste, generosity rather than greed, compassion rather than annoyance.
I am reminded of His instruction:
Philippians 2:5 Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus
And of the benefit:
Acts 4:13 When they observed the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed and knew that they had been with Jesus.
I want people to know I've been with my Master.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The Cardinal...
It was a beautiful spring day, one which demands the opening of windows. A cool breeze was moving through the house, and I had even opened the garage door and the kitchen door which leads to the garage. As I worked in the back bedroom, I heard a noise in the other part of the house. I've never had children, but I think I know one aspect of parenting...the uncanny ability to sense when something is wrong. My subconscious tapped me on the shoulder and said, "The dogs are outside, so there shouldn't be noise in there." I went to investigate.
Upon exiting the hallway, I discovered the most beautiful red male cardinal. He was frantically trying to fly through my front window...the glass part. It's not the first time I've chased a bird, so I quickly grabbed a towel and held it up...partly to encourage him toward the door and partly for protection. He was already upset, and my presence only made him more panicky. He made several attempts at the sliding glass door (I had not opened it, because the dogs would only come in making for a truly exciting chase.)
After a brief try as matador, my new friend flew past me and began working on the bathroom window. In order to narrow the field of play, I closed both doors and was able to settle him down a bit. He even sat still but wide eyed while I reached toward him and unlocked and opened the window. Immediately he broke for freedom. Relieved, I quickly went down the hall to close the kitchen door, but heard another strange sound in the garage.
I looked to see another male cardinal working on the garage window. As I began the dance with this one, I realized what had happened. It's springtime...the season of love. And these two fellows had been fighting for the right to court some little female who was no doubt delighted at the attention. During their sparring match, they lost their bearings and wound up trapped. The need for freedom quickly overcame the need for love, and their attention turned from each other (and the female).
I chuckled at the situation and then laughed out loud when I thought of a moral to the story. Something about being led to destruction came to mind...
Proverbs 25:
20 My son, keep your father's command,
and don't reject your mother's teaching.
or let her captivate you with her eyelashes.
Upon exiting the hallway, I discovered the most beautiful red male cardinal. He was frantically trying to fly through my front window...the glass part. It's not the first time I've chased a bird, so I quickly grabbed a towel and held it up...partly to encourage him toward the door and partly for protection. He was already upset, and my presence only made him more panicky. He made several attempts at the sliding glass door (I had not opened it, because the dogs would only come in making for a truly exciting chase.)
After a brief try as matador, my new friend flew past me and began working on the bathroom window. In order to narrow the field of play, I closed both doors and was able to settle him down a bit. He even sat still but wide eyed while I reached toward him and unlocked and opened the window. Immediately he broke for freedom. Relieved, I quickly went down the hall to close the kitchen door, but heard another strange sound in the garage.
I looked to see another male cardinal working on the garage window. As I began the dance with this one, I realized what had happened. It's springtime...the season of love. And these two fellows had been fighting for the right to court some little female who was no doubt delighted at the attention. During their sparring match, they lost their bearings and wound up trapped. The need for freedom quickly overcame the need for love, and their attention turned from each other (and the female).
I chuckled at the situation and then laughed out loud when I thought of a moral to the story. Something about being led to destruction came to mind...
Proverbs 25:
20 My son, keep your father's command,
and don't reject your mother's teaching.
21 Always bind them to your heart;
tie them around your neck.
24 They will protect you from an evil woman,
from the flattering tongue of a stranger.
or let her captivate you with her eyelashes.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Hindsight...
Like most men, I imagine myself having a pretty high tolerance for discomfort. (This is when the ladies usually roll their eyes.) Actually, I endure pretty well, and most people don't know of the aches and pains I have. However, I'll be the first to admit that I have absolutely no tolerance for any abnormal sensation above my neck. I've suffered from sinus allergies all my life, and while it has been better for a number of years due to immunotherapy, I still regularly feel that old familiar pressure behind my eyes when the weather changes suddenly or when I'm exposed to pollen, mold or dust.
I'm a little obsessive about my sinuses. I pay close attention to the weather report and the pollen index, and any pressure in my head brings out the medication. I use the excuse that my voice is my instrument and my livelihood. That much is true, but the main reason I'm so careful is that I simply can't stand the discomfort of sinus trouble. Despite my efforts, I regularly suffer from sinus trouble and occasionally a full blown sinus infection takes me in its grip.
Most of you know full well what I'm talking about. Intense pressure, closed airways, raw throat, coughing, sneezing, no sleep, and the presence of a strange substance I know should not be there. Time stands still. Every breath is labored. Every swallow is torture. Unending misery. Or so it seems. One day, I wake up and notice that I'm better. The misery evaporates, and it's difficult to remember exactly how it felt to suffer that way. Life begins again and joy returns.
That's how I imagine eternity will be. On this planet are many sufferings. Physical, emotional, even spiritual pain. Separation from loved ones. Ridicule, offense, rejection...loneliness. Time seems to stop, and the pain is magnified. But one day I will wake up and it will all evaporate...
Revelation 21...
1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea existed no longer. 2 I also saw the Holy City, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride adorned for her husband.
Almighty God makes this promise to every person who trusts in His Son. The burdens of this world will pass away like a vapor, and we will even have difficulty recalling the pain. But that's not all. The same God who promises a future in the new heaven and new earth promises joy and peace on this earth, too. Even in the midst of pain and sorrow, we can enjoy fulfillment and abundant life. When I invest time in my relationship with Jesus Christ, I receive the blessing of His presence, compassion and peace. I'm prepared for anything that happens to me today, and I know that my future is filled with richness beyond belief.
I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33
I'm a little obsessive about my sinuses. I pay close attention to the weather report and the pollen index, and any pressure in my head brings out the medication. I use the excuse that my voice is my instrument and my livelihood. That much is true, but the main reason I'm so careful is that I simply can't stand the discomfort of sinus trouble. Despite my efforts, I regularly suffer from sinus trouble and occasionally a full blown sinus infection takes me in its grip.
Most of you know full well what I'm talking about. Intense pressure, closed airways, raw throat, coughing, sneezing, no sleep, and the presence of a strange substance I know should not be there. Time stands still. Every breath is labored. Every swallow is torture. Unending misery. Or so it seems. One day, I wake up and notice that I'm better. The misery evaporates, and it's difficult to remember exactly how it felt to suffer that way. Life begins again and joy returns.
That's how I imagine eternity will be. On this planet are many sufferings. Physical, emotional, even spiritual pain. Separation from loved ones. Ridicule, offense, rejection...loneliness. Time seems to stop, and the pain is magnified. But one day I will wake up and it will all evaporate...
Revelation 21...
1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea existed no longer. 2 I also saw the Holy City, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared like a bride adorned for her husband.
3 Then I heard a loud voice from the throne: "Look! God's dwelling is with men, and He will live with them. They will be His people, and God Himself will be with them and be their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will exist no longer; grief, crying, and pain will exist no longer, because the previous things have passed away."
5 Then the One seated on the throne said, "Look! I am making everything new."Almighty God makes this promise to every person who trusts in His Son. The burdens of this world will pass away like a vapor, and we will even have difficulty recalling the pain. But that's not all. The same God who promises a future in the new heaven and new earth promises joy and peace on this earth, too. Even in the midst of pain and sorrow, we can enjoy fulfillment and abundant life. When I invest time in my relationship with Jesus Christ, I receive the blessing of His presence, compassion and peace. I'm prepared for anything that happens to me today, and I know that my future is filled with richness beyond belief.
I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33
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