the pluses and minuses of paint

The church has offices in a building constructed in the 1870's and moved to our church property fifteen years ago. It is an old victorian house, and even with the building of new facilities, we decided to preserve our "quaint" office space here.

Recently, we determined we needed more office space so we have been in the process of rennovating the upstairs, where we can locate at leats four new office areas. What our limited budget allows for, primarily, is paint. I just came down from surveying the work and made these mental observations.

1. Paint covers a multitude of sins.

2. Paint does not cover all the history.

3. Paint only a temporary "fix".

The first impression upon walking upstairs is "Wow! This looks great!" And it does. There is a cleanness and a freshness to the space that is obvious.

A closer look, however, reveals some history about the walls and the space that indicate there are some things deeply beneath the surface of the walls that cannot be hidden.


Fianlly, upon reflecting on the painting, I've noted that in time there is some more serious renonovation that will need to take place, when we are willing to spend the money and to do the work.

Dealing with outward appearances may appear to be a means to feelng beter. Inevitably, though, closer examination of ourselves reveals that there is work left to be done. In the end, the outward "recasting" only delays the inevitable--though it may give a momentary reprieve--but at best, is a temporary fix.

We can't "paint over" the deep issues that lie beneath the surface of our lives. Sooner or later, they will emerge to be dealt with.

Laying the paint brush aside may be costly in comparison to pursuing the alternatives of true healing and restoration, but in the end, the value will be more than that achieved by an inexpensive paint job.

walking

A treadmill does not provide scenic accompaniment to exercise. Going up and down our local high school bleachers is also less than inspiring in terms of landscape and atmosphere.

Today I decided to drive a few short miles to a nearby river. I parked my car and then proceeded to walk three miles along the meandering Mokelumne River. The sun was shining--it was a cool crisp 55 degrees--and the water was racing, the beneficiary of a recent 2-3 inch downpour long overdue in our county. All in all, it was delightful and I came back to my office rejuvenated!

We often refer to life as a journey. We talk about our daily "walk" with God. All too often our walk can be treadmill-like, simply going through the motions because we have to. At other times it is overwhelmingly arduous, much like running up and down bleacher steps until we are breathless with exhaustion.

But there are times when our walk with Him is like sharing a stroll along a meandering river, with all of the beauty of His creation surrounding us, the stillness of the quiet blue sky enveloping us and the music of rushing water serenading us. It is as if the voice of God whispers to us, "Be still and know that I am God".

Walks like this are the wonderful part of the journey.

a long look at a short life

Just recently I have been aware of the fact that people don't always live into their 70's and 80's.

*A friend of mine is 48, diagnosed with multiple myaloma and preparing for a stem cell transplant--five children under the age of thirteen

*His sister-in-law was recently diagnosed at age 37 with a severe form of breast cancer, five young children

*My stepson's friend's sister discovered her 37 year old husband dead from a heart attack in bed three weeks ago, four children

*Our daughter-in-law's sister has terminal liver cancer, 38 years old, three children under the age of eight

Enough already!

The topper is a nineteen year old from our church suffering with recurring acute mylocitic leukemia, just having undergone a bone marrow transplant three weeks ago.

What does all of this say to me--lamenting the fact that I have recently edged nearer to age sixty? (see previous blog)

It makes James 4:13-15 take on renewed meaning...

"Come now ye that say Today or tomorrow we will go into such a city and continue there a year and buy and sell and get grain; Whereas ye know not what shall be on the next day. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appeareth for a little time and then vaisheth away. For ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live and do this or that..."

I am persuaded that God knows the time available to us and it is ours to spend wisely or to waste foolishly.

Making every day count seems an appropriately trite reduction for each new day.

That's the long and short of it.

Fifty-nine

I have reached fifty-nine
sublime
it isn't

I fear I'm out of time
sometime
to matter

I wish I were "sunshine"
by design
to enlighten

I'd give away what's mine
unrefined
to serve

I know I'm "on the line"
at fifty-nine
I am

A NEW MEAL PLAN

Around my house the word "diet' is not allowed.

And for good reason. I have abused it, beat it up, massaged it, worn it out.

So my new phrase for 2007 is "meal plan". It seems easier to digest than "diet", don;t you think?

It really isn't that I am so fat (no comments, please) but more that I am getting old-ER (I hear the hearty "amens"). The older I get the less excited I am about expending energy to carry this extra weight around.

And then there is the issue of exercise. I pretty much took a "sabbatical" (almost gives nobility to my failure) from working out, walking and sports due to the challenging and time-consuming project last year of helping to build our new facilities.

A new plan is what I have decided upon--complete with an exercise program, special parameters for eatin, and a menu that addresses my specific health concerns. I am in the second week of doing this and already I am feeling energized and I am even losing weight.

How about a new spiritual exercise program and "meal plan"? I am looking at that as well, seeking to incorporate the same disciplines in my spiritual life that I am attempting in my physical life. Here are some examples.

*Joining a health club for exercise, self-coercion (if I spend this money, I have to justify the expense by using this)

*Establishing accountability partners (sharing my areas of vulnerability with a buddy and asking him to check on how well I am doing)

*Pursuing daily prayer with my mate (if I verbalize my needs in prayer, my wife will know where I need God's help)

*Sharing in a Bible study with others (if I have to set aside time to go, I will make it a priority)

*Investing in someone else's spiritual growth (if I sense a friend's need, I am compelled to respond as a disciple)

All of the above things are on my new meal plan for the year. These are not necessarily new things, but they are components of the discipline I know is essential if I am going to be spiritually healthy. I find that these are things that energize my relationship with God and enable me to act out my faith with greater excitement.

I don't want to carry the weight of self-indulgence around as a believer, nor do I want to become sedentary about sharing my faith. It is easy to miss these things until one day you take a good look at yourself in the mirror of God's Word and you say, "What's happening to me? I am getting fat and lazy!"

It's time for a new meal plan for me; how about you?

it's that time of year again

In just another few days 2006 will be another year completed. We will flip over the calendar and it will be a "new year".

We come to the end of this year with heavy hearts. Our church has experienced the moral failure of one of its youth personnel and we are grieving its impact on our young people, our extended church family and the community as a whole. For me, as a pastor, there is great concern, as well, for how the name of Christ and His church are perceived in the midst of such failure.

I am reminded of several things that have personally taken me to task as I scrutinize my own life.

1. What are my areas of personal vulnerability?

2. What am i doing to shore up the lines of personal defense through transparency, integrity and accounability?

3. Am I continually aware of my own daily need of God's grace and mercy?

As I look to the "new year" I am aware of my penchant for making resolutions, drawing up programs of structured phsyical and spiritual disciplines...and then leaving them behind.

However, the experiences of the past year--grinding through a church building program that took longer than we thought and dealing with serious extended family crises that hurt more than I could have imagined--have taught me something new already about my dependence upon God and my need for accountability and affirmation with others.

I see the "new year" as an opportunity to keep on doing some oft he things I have learned and to invest these lessons in my relationship with ten men ho I connect with one-on-one each week.

It's that time of year again--and although my heart is filled witha mixture of sadness and joy--I am looking forward to my continuing adventure in my walk with God.

Pottery Barn chairs

We have six pottery barn chairs for sale. We list the "make" because we know some people love anything from Pottery Barn. We posted a picture of the chair and have been waiting for several days now to see if anyone can't live without our six chairs in "like new" condition...(call if interested)

"Born again" Christians. "Spirit-filled" Christians. "Evangelical" Christians. There is probably a bunch of other modifiers that are used to draw a distinctive association, I guess, with the brand of Christian in view.

It is tragic that the word "Christian" needs an adjective to embellish it or to distinguish it. The word "Christian" in and of itself should be enough. It literally means "little Christ".

But we all know that "Christian" can be used to describe anyone living in American, a person who goes to church regularly, someone who isn't pagan, a good and moral person...and the list goes on.

We need our modifiers. Otherwise, we may be talking about any old Christian, and that image is left for conjecture without the appropriate adjective.

Chairs--six of them for sale.

Not justy any old chairs. Pottery Barn chairs.

mom

My mother was in church on Sunday...at the church I, pastor. I mean, she has been in church every Sunday for a hundred years, but on this Sunday she was at Grace Fellowship Church in Jackson, California. She came with my sister, Diane, which made it an even more special treat for me.

My twin brother, Dennis, pastors the church in Sotckton where my mother lives and where she faithfully attends each Sunday. My father was the founding pastor of the church, now fifty years old. Even though it has changed faces, locations--and even denominations--it is till the church begun in the frontroom of our home in 1956.

My fatrher has been gone for eighteen years but my mother has remained the steadying influence in the church so she is there every Sunday.

That is why it was such a blessing to have her with us on Sunday. She had faithfully prayed for the building of our church facility and I wanted her to see it, and to worship with us in it.

It happened on Sunday.

I was glad my mom was there.

Bad feet

My friend has two bad feet; actually, they are bad ankles, brutally damaged in a horrible automobile accident over ten years ago. Multiple infections and surgeries later she still has extreme pain to deal with daily. She can hardly take a step without being reminded of that horrible day.

It is possible to be wounded deeply emotionally as well and to be so impacted by an event of the past that every thing we do is in some way influenced by that hurt.

How does one deal with deep pain and hurt? You can't cut off your feet or have an ankle transplant. You can't erase the painful memories of hurt and abuse. How do we cope with such trauma in our lives.

Consider that the event(s) under consideration have the potential of being "life-changing". That is a potentially trite, pollyannish distinction. Except for the fact, it is often true.

My friend cannot go places she once went, cannot sleep as she once slept, cannot enjoy doing many of the things she once did. Her life has changed.

Someone I know who was traumatized by an abusive father lives every day with the emotional scar tissue of being devalued by his self-indulgent behavior. She is not the same person she once was.

Life-changing? Definitely.

But my friend with bad feet has not sstopped living and caring for others; even as I talked to her today--in the middle of accelerated pain--she was thinking about a mutual friend undergoing catastrophic surgery. She would call me tearfully minutes later to report the surgery's success, and rejoice that everything was okay.

My other friend with the heavy family trauma prayed with me over the phone a few months ago during a personal time of emotional upheaval. Her acquaintance with deep family crisis ministered to me in a unique way as she prayed from the depths of her own experience with a faith that buoyed mine.

Bad feet.

Yes.

Bad memories.

Yes.

But life-changing lessons passed on to others, while they still limp, and sometimes weep.

stories of grace

Today I read the detailed written account of someone's experience in meeting God. It is a story of different turns and twists, but in the end, it is the story of one's search for Christ.

It is interesting because the writer sees his story as unique--and concerning the details and specifics, it is.

But as I read it, I realized it was not unlike my story--or for that fact, any believer's story--who has found Christ.

What we have in common, when all is said and done, is a story of God's love and grace.

It is often dramatic. It is miraculous. It is always worth retelling.

SADNESS

I received a very vitriolic letter yesterday from someone who is very angry at the church. I was singled out as being a liar and tagged with other unkind labels. Sadly, our church has invested much in this individual and these accusations are especially painful.

I shared with my staff later in the morning about the grieving process i went through, and continued in this morning. There is the unavoidable checking of ourselves when we have been accused. I tried not to be defensive and to be open to any hint of truth in the charges made against me. I chose not to share the letter with anyone else becasue unkind statements are made against other brothers and sisters which I know are not based in fact.

I reminded myself that we had done our best.

Does such a conclusion that absolves me of guilt mean that (a)I can't do better or (b)I can't learn from such hurtful situations. Of course not.

But I have learned I can't control how people react. I must be accountable to God--and I can, volitonally, be accountable to my staff brothers.

In the end, I am left to my thoughts and to my sadness.

thanksgiving 2006

I woke up today to three grandchildren snuggling in bed with me, asking "Grandpa and Grandma, tell us stories..." What could be better than that!

Here is my thanksgiving list for today...

*Ten grandchildren and six children (and their spouses) all in good health

*Both of our mothers--age eighty-two--doing well

*A beautiful and wonderful wife (how did I manage to be so blessed?)

*A completed church buildng--after thirty months!

*A devoted assortment of reliable friends

*A place to work that I love

*A glorious hope in Christ!

Thanksgiving 2006 is a special time for me. Never have I felt a deeper sense of gratitude to God for His faithfulness, mercy and grace towards me. I am truly blessed.

the incredible krysta

Some people impact you in ways that defy description. Krysta, a young lady I know, is one of those people.

Krsyta has been battling leukemia for the last three years and until about four months ago it appeared she was on a long-awaited path to healing. Hers is a particularly isidious brand of leukemia and the treatment itself was physically devastating for Krysta. Now, just when she has emerged from the shadow of treatment, she is facing it once again as the disease has reappeared.

It's funny but I have wrestled with my own emotions about this, and I am just a pastor and friend. It is not easy to process the "whys" of sickness and disease and the apparent incongruity of bad things impacting good people. There are no "pet" answers for we "men of the cloth". We battle as well with our own questions and search for scriptural rationale for the occurrence of things we don't understand. In the end we are left to affirm or disavow our own faith in God's fathfulness and grace.

It is an easier task to affirm my faith because of Krysta, because she has unabashedly done so. I observed Krysta during her first battle with leukemia and watched her survive a variety of potentially life-threatening situations. I saw someone emerge with a strong and quiet confidence in God.

News of the leukemia's return was a shock--literally on the heels of being told she was doing great and that her doctor visits would be reduced. I know Krysta had to process this information and decide what she would do about her own faith. And, thankfully, she has embraced it wholeheartedly.

Today we talked about the next several months, culminating in a bone marrow transplant on January 16th and a year of heavy-duty follow-up treatment. What impressed me most about Krysta once again was her quiet confidence in God and her desire to make the hospital an evironment in which she could share her faith.

No wonder I am impacted by Krysta. The validity of her faith in God is contagious for me as I struggle with the "whys" I can't answer. I am encouraged to trust the God we both serve and to be stronger because of her.

Thanks, Krysta.

SUNDAYS

It is about 7 a.m.--yes, we remembered to set our clocks back--but I have been awake since 3:20 a.m. This is the time every Sunday where I try to reflect on my sermon notes and prepare mentally for the preaching/teaching of the gospel to the people God has entrusted to my care.

This is like most Sundays--thoughts of my inadequacy, concerns about the contour of the service, structural concerns (we are stil setting up in a rented building), etc. It is difficult in such a cluttered environment to think clearly about the Word I feel called to preach.

Why is that? The discipline of the mind to do what God has called is not automatic. Paul's directive to "set your mind on things above" in Colossians 3 is a clear indication that such a mindset does not happen as a matter of osmosis or robotic stimulus' rather, it is a discipline of the will and the intellect to focus on things spiritual.

And so, every Sunday, I seek to do this. I get up early, spread my sermon notes on my desk and ask God to clarify for me once again His purpose for me, His message through me. Bev and I set aside time to drink coffee and to pray. Often, I rehearse the salient points of my message and listen for her words of approval and assurance.
Sometimes she raises a questions, asks for a point of clarification and, more often than not, those are factored into my message.

Why share this with you? I think everyone of us require the same preparation for a meaningful Lord's Day. We don't just slide into Sunday at the end of a week of hurrying from one responsibility to another, and then to Sunday services because that's what we always do. Well, maybe that's what we do.

But Sundays can be so much more if we will prepare our minds for the Word and our worship of the Lord. It will take disciple, setting our mind on things above.

And it's not just for Sundays!

the plight of the 21st century missionary

The plight of the 21st century missionary is that he struggles to raise his support. It is common practice for missionaries to come back to the States on "furlough" to rest (hah!) and renew the support needed while they are serving ina foreign country.

More often than not, missionaries visit churches which allow them (maybe) an opportunity to share their passion and needs (usually in that order). The testimony of most missionaries--and church pastors--is that attendance is generally down when a missionary's visit is announced, and that the financial response is minimal.

I suppose that phenomenon, tragic as it is, can be dismissed with the cursory, "I already give to too many things", or, "There are enough needs here for me to support", or, "How do I know what they are doing with their money", etc.

Two missionary families that I support are doing a great work in Africa. One works in Malawi at an African Bible College training young men and women to minister to their own people. The other operates a printing press in Uganda and prints Christian outreach and training materials for churches and others who evangelize and train believers.

What do these two missionary families have in common? They need more support; in fact, one may have to come home from the field if support is not raised.

Here's the kicker. The plight of the 21st century missionary is...the church. The church is more committed to spending money on itself--often, to fatten the already obese--than it is to train others to share the gospel with those spiritually starved and mal-nutritioned.

May God help us.

Cleaning a floor seems like such a mundane task. No special skills needed...no training required.

Wrong.

When the floor is 9,000 square feet and the surface being cleaned has been stained with two coats of acid-based stain, there are special considerations, to be sure.

The application of the water on the acid-etched concrete surface is a tricky one because water must be applied again and again (and again), until no dirty water remains. The water neutralizes the acid and sits on the surface discolored until it has been sufficently rinsed. This completed, the floor is ready to be sealed.

About twenty of us gathered at the building site today to tackle the sanctuary floor. It had already been stained and was ready for the rinsing stage described above. There was plenty of equipment--buckets, five gallon containers, "squeegies", mops, cleaning rags, a hose, extension cords, a buffing machine, etc.

What was needed was coordination--who would give directions? Who would share the necessary precautions? Who would assign tasks? Who would demonstrate the appropriate technique for using the buffer? Was there enough work to go around? Was there sufficient equipment to fill every willing hand?

A task we calculated would last all day took us four hours! Our work force included people ranging from 10 years to 80 years of age, ten men and ten women. Each one worked--did their share of the task. Some evidenced obvious experience in using a mop and a squeegie; a few of the men could control the buffer. Some of the stronger guys moved water in and out and a few of the others demonstrated profiency in wielding a hose.

In the end the task was finished, and completed well. A morning snack of donuts and drinks was followed with sandwiches, chips and cookies for those who worked and could stay.

Cleaning a floor, though a mundane task from another's point of view, was a glorious picture to me of how the church works. Everyone pitches in and does their part. Some have skills and strengths that others don't have, but the others bring their own contribution and willing spirit to serve to the completion of the total task.

The result? A beautiful sanctuary floor!

Here's the deal. In the days ahead we will have opportunity as a body of believers to work together to do some things that have eternal value, things that are more than buildings and floors.

I can't wait to see what that looks like!

ALMOST

For the last thirty months we have been building church home. It has taken a lot longer than we planned, cost a lot more money than we budgeted, and presented more challenges than we imagined.

But we are almost done!

We are finishing air conditioning, fire suppression, the sanctuary floor, outdoor parking...and a number of other last minute tasks. Almost!

And then we have a frantic week of cleaning to do--windows, carpeting, touch-up painting, furniture placement, etc. Almost.

And, then, we need an occupancy permit to have our first service on November 5th.

I met with a county supervisor who walked with me through the building; I had called him because we are waiting--again--on the building department, andI needed someone to "encourage" them to help us move throught this process which is almost completed.

I have runa few 10K's in my younger days and I know how it was to be almost at the finish line. there was a unique euphoria and burst of energy as the end of the race was in sight.

That's where I am to day. Euphoric.

We are almost there.

extraordinary

She has been a single mother for a long time, even when her husband lived with her. In fact, even now she allows him to have a room at the house even though he is an alcoholic, and for all intents and purposes, their marriage is over.

She is extraordinary.

Her parents were divorced when she was young, and she had little contact with her father until the final years of his life when he became terminally ill. She was with him at the hospital when he died, praying for him and sharing her faith.

She is extraordinary.

Her mother returned to her mother's home (her grandmother) to care for her as she died from Alzheimer's disease and became totally disabled and depedent in her final days. It was her granddaughter's faith that buoyed her mother's as she cared for a dying grandmother. Her mother's walk with the Lord has grown in the shadow of her daughter's.

She is extraordinary.

Her oldest son, totally dedicated to Christ, has distinguished himself in every way and is now preparing for vocational Christian service. He lives, for the moment, in the home where his mother cares for his angry and alcoholic father. He has observed her love and grace and he is becoming like her.

She is extraordinary.

Her faith is what has transformed her. I have known her since the days she babysat my youngest son as a typical teenager. What I see now is a mature woman, fully engaged with her family and church, spending her life in causes that reap eternal dividends.

I saw her today and visited with her.

She is extraordinary.

dialoguing

We want to communicate, I assume, and that is why we engage in verbal and written messages with one another. Sometimes body language accomplishes what we need to say.

But what do we do when we want to communicate thoughts that are diametrically opposed to those of the receiver? We feel like we need to express ourselves but we know at the outset that it is risky, and we can even extrapolate (with a certain degree of accuracy) what the response will sound like.

When we read or listen to the response--or interpret the body language--we ask ourselves, "Why did I even bother?"

And, yet, some of us are driven to communicate. We want to "dialogue"about the things that matter to us. Obviously, we would like an agreeable and affirmative response. Often, however, the response we receive is contrary and even cantakerous. Is the process, then, of any value?

I say "yes!"

It is valuable because we have determined that sharing our feelings is more important than remaining silent to avoid confrontation. We learn to do it in a "winsome" way--non-judgmentally, kindly--and then resign ourselves to the fact the response may not what we desire but telling the truth about how we feel is worth the attempt at dialogue.

What do you think? I promise to listen.

a cold or allergies, or...?

Is it allergies or is it a cold?

Runny nose, stuffed head, itchy throat, draining mucus (I know, it sounds horrible...and it is!), sore throat, cough, occasional headache (or sinus ache)...

Anyway, I have had one of the two--or a combination of both--for the last few weeks, coinciding with my vacation. Not the best formula for a restful time away.

I thought about what I would say when people asked, "How was your vacation?" One option included a brief recitation of all of my physical woes, my quandry in distinguishing betweena cold and/or allergies.

Another option was to simply talk about the great time I had relaxing and resting in the shadow of Palm Springs for seven days.

And that's the option I have chosen, even though the cold I have had is not easily camouflaged.

Generally it is easy to get caught up between an exercise of deciding whether or not it is one thing or another that is making us feel badly. What we sometimes miss is the obvious.

Cold or allergies...I was in Palm Springs!

It was great!