a sad story

Back in the office just a few short days. I have already been reminded what a sad world we live in when we live without moral guidelines. When our decisions are only self-serving with no consideration of their impact on others, we are doomed to the ultimate consequences of being alone. When the choices we make fail to take into account the long-term repercussions, we are left to the short-term allurement of feeling "high", with the inevitable residue of "real life".

Someone chooses to lay their ministry aside just for an evening and now their future is clouded with only the certainty of incarceration and hopeful rehabilitation.

Someone decides that the rigors of marriage are too great, and leaves God, husband and children and family aside to escape to her secret place with a new companion.

Someone drives their motorcycle into a cool evening breeze and , unexpectedly, into eternity, when he is broadsided by a negligent driver. A wife and three children are left to grieve.

These are all sad stories--stories that did not have to be--but came to pass because someone in the heat of the moment chose wrongly--carelessly and selfishly.

Don't be a part of your own sad story. Consider your choices and your decisions. And ask God to give you the courage and the insight to choose wisely.

FIRST SUNDAY BACK

It is abouit 7:30 a.m. and in 90 minutes I will be back with my church family, assuming the role I had before I left for my sabbatical--the role of pastor. It is a role I relish, and a role I missed while I was gone.

I relish it because God has called me to it. in so doing, He has made me in such a way that I find my greatest joy when I am serving God as He intended for me to do.

It is a role I missed. Separated from our church family and not preaching and teaching each Sunday left an empty place in my heart. I discovered that when I am not doing what God created me for, something is missing. This is not to say that rest and study and rejuvenation were not eseential for me, but the whole experience created a renewed passion for the work God has called me to.

I will be teaching from the book of Philippians for the next several months--the product of several months of study and writing before and during my sabbatical. The title of my series is "Designed for Joy". It is a reaffirmation of my conviction that true joy comes from understanding my relationship to the gospel--what God created me for, what in grace He has done to accomplish His divine purposes in my life, and the joy that comes from responding in obedience to His call.

It begins again this morning for me. It's my first Sunday back and I am full of joy.

Headed home...

It's incredible that my thirteen weeks of sabbatical will be over this week. In some ways it has been a long, long time because I have been separated from my friends, my home and my passion to preach. On the other hand, it seems as if it was just days ago that we told our friends "good-bye" at a church potluck, and then headed out for a wedding I performed in Temecula...and then on to twelve weeks of rest and relaxation, courtesy of our church family at Grace Fellowship.

These have been great days. I have rested, hiked, read, written, sat by the beach, eaten too much, swam in the ocean, visited other churches, journalled, exercised, played with grandchildren, shopped, looked at real estate, and, generally, lived without a watch or a schedule.

Day after tomorrow we are headed home.

I am ready.

The Word was preached!

We visited the church where Bev's son, Tim, is the pastor. He has been gone the last two weeks so we were especially anxious to hear him. He preached from Psalm 37 about the justice of God. We were challenged to consider how we respond to the situiations of injustice around us and pointed us to Jesus' example in giving up His life for us when He was unjustly accused.

It was a great sermon and it was a special treat to sit in church and hear the Word of God preached clearly.

And it was great to know it was my stepson I was listening to...makes a stepfather proud!

the beach

I can't afford to live at the beach: I have checked prices in every beach town along the California coast and even a bungalo is out of my reach! But I can enjoy the beach...and that I have done as we have spent about eight weeks of our sabbatical located within a short driving distance from the ocean.

We have visited Pismo Beach, Avila Beach, Montana de Oro Beach, Shell Beach, Los Osos Flacos Beach (bet you never heard of that one), Grover Beach, Oceano Beach, Morro Bay and Guadalupe Beach whle here on the Central Coast. What they have in common is the Pacific Ocean and there is something about its beauty, sound and fury that draw me to it.

This morning we walked along a Coastal Walk with the Pacific Ocean on the bluffs below us and fibe million dollar homes above us in the Shell Beach area. It was a bit foggy and overcast with the sun peaking through the last part of our walk. It was exhilarating! As beautiful as the mansions on one side were, God's creative genius as reflected in the ocean views easily surpassed them.

We will be back in Sutter Creek in about two weeks; the beach will be miles away but the memories of our weeks here will remain for a long time.

grandchildren

Tim and Chad, Bev's two sons, have seven children between them and Chad and Julie are expecting their fourth in February. Jeff, my son, has one child and Jennifer, my daughter, has two children, so there are ten grandchildren...or 10.5 right now.

One of the bonuses of our sabbatical in the Nipom area is spending time with the seven grandchildren we have nearby. Sage, Eden, Seke, Haaken, Kyle, Julianne and Nate--these are the kids we are enjoying when we are able to make connection these five weeks. We had three over to swim, babysat for four last week for two days, and then had six over to swim on Saturday. We are discovering that we are older now, and that being grandparents is, gratefully, different than being parents. Our grandkids are delightful--well-behaved and very loving--but they are filled with bottomless energy and ravenous appetites so keeping them busy and fed is a fulltime challenge...but worth every minute of it.

I am missing my grandchildren in Texas, but enjoying our grandchidlren here. We are thankful for this additional benefit of our sabbatical.

nipomo

A recent quesiton on Jeopardy revealed that Nipomo, California has the best micro-climate in the United States. That is where we are for these last five weeks! The picture above shows an area just a few miles west of Nipomo, the end of a 1.5 mile hike that brings you through beautiful terrain to the ocean.

The weather has been foggy but this evening it was beautiful. We enjoyed being in Bev's son's church in San Luis Obispo (Grace Church) but it made us homesick for Grace Fellowship. It is healthy for me to sit back and to listen to someone else share the Word and to be challenged in my personal spiritual life. I have been studying Philippians and am enjoying the things God is showing me that I hope to share with ym church family on my return.

final phase

 

Final Phase

We are home for a few days after a terrific time at Santa Cruz and Felton. We enjoyed the ocean, cool weather and several visits from friends. We worhipped three or four times at Mt. Hermon Conference grounds, situated just a few miles from us.

We leave Wednesday for Nipomo and will be near Bev's family for the next five weeks (they live in San Luis Obispo, about twenty minutes away). Many of you have e-mailed, written--asking if I am writing. I have done most of my preparation work and will begin the task of writing, hopefully, in this next phase, although I have no lofty goals for completion. Thanks for all the notes of interest and support.


One thing we know for certain--we miss our church family. We look forward to the day we will be worshipping together with you and serving with you again...soon!

checking in

We are at Mt. Herman tonight checking our mail and listening in on a service. What a neat resource for us, just five minutes from our camping spot.

We enjoyed Santa Cruz Bible Church for the second Sunday and were impressed with the clarity of the presentation of the truth of God's Word--a welcome voice here in Santa Cruz County.

Beverly and I are enjoying our alone time together and with God. We are asking God to reveal Himself to us in a way that will rejuvenate our spirit and hearts for ministry...it is working! We are already anxious for September and our return to our church family.

In the meantime, we are thankful for our faithful staff and church family. God is working at Grace Fellowship and we sensed His presence when we sneaked in last Sunday. The Word of God was preached well, and we felt challenged and encouraged by the Word we heard.

Out of sight...but not out of mind...

We paused from our sabbatical for a moment to join a young couple in holy matrimony yesterday. And what a holy day it was!

This young man and young woman are special to me. The young lady has overcome some horrible obstacles in her life and is now emerging as the woman God intended for her to be. Her husband of one day--with an equally challenging past--is growing up as well, and working regularly at learning a new trade and assuming responsibility for the family to which he has committed himself.

There was a tearful moment for all of us when I paused during the ceremony to say a personal word about my special friends--and it was bathed in the awareness of the miracle that God alone can perform in redeeming our lives.

This couple I suggest, is all of us, emerging from our pasts of failure and immaturity, and grabbing hold of the hope we have in Christ that truly tranforms us.

This was a meaningful pause to celebrate the joy of serving Jesus!

a break from sabbatical...

We are home for a few days, gearing up for a camping trip to Lake Tahoe...except a ravaging fire has brought huge damage and loss to that area, and as I am writing, the fire is still not contained. Sadly, we will not be going to Camp Richardson at Tahoe as planned.

We just returned from a wedding at which I officiated in Southern California, a cruise to the Mexican Riviera (courtesy of Bev's mother) and a week in Palm Springs. All of these were good experiences and we capped it all off with a day with some of the grandchildren in San Luis Obispo and a night at Carmel.

We are three weeks into our thirteen week sabbatical, with lots of fun and exciting things yet to comne. But it is good to be home in our own beds. I sneaked over to my office last night to check my mail and to gaze whimsically at our church facilitiesw. Having not preached the last two weeks I was literally homesick for the pulpit (only a preacher would understand that!)

And we don't have a pulpit...but you get the idea.

So it's off with the trailer for three weeks at Smithwoods RV Park in Felton; a true adventure awaits us since we had never heard of it until we went on line today!

In the meantime, we are grateful for this time God has provided and we are enjoying this mini-break from sabbatical as we get ready for the beautiful outdoors and the nearby Pacific Ocean.

We'll be in touch!

baptism

Sunday following our morning worship service we went outside to baptize three young people. We don't have a baptismal in our sanctuary--hopefully, we will add a portable one to our "wish list"--but we have a large metal container that we have fashioned into a baptismal tank.

Our candidates for baptism included a young teenage girl, a younger teenage boy and a young lady who recently came to Christ. It was meaningful for me to baptize these three young believers who seem serious about their ongoing relationship with Christ and followed in this step of obedience.

The setting was unusual--underneath an outdoor covered extension of our new facilities, surrounded by picnic tables and a congregation anticipating the potluck to follow. About 300-400 were shoulder-to-shoulder trying to get a glimpse of the baptism, some visiting, but others with their eyes and hearts trained on the moment. Baptism is a special moment. It is a moment of celebration for those who have come to know Christ and are making public testimony of that commitment.

Every member of the body of Christ rejoices...and on a day when people joined our church, leadership was prayed for and a picnic fellowship was enjoyed by everyone, the greatest moment of the day for me was the celebration of three young believers moving ahead in their spiritual life as we baptized them.

That, indeed, should be the focus of the church.

sabbatical is here!

A funeral today, a weddng tomorrow, worship on Sunday...and, then, sabbatical!

Today we had a beatiful memorials ervice for Claire, our senior pastor's wife and tomorrow I wil perform a wedding for a recent convert from our church. Although these are very diverse events, the joy about both is that these are Christian--one older, one younger--who are a testimony to Christ because of their love and obedience.

Claire served the Lord for over sixty years; Mark has been a Chistian for a few short years. Claire gave her life in service to the Lord and Mark is beginning to do the same. Both inspire me to be a faithful minister.

As I leave for sabbatical--thirteen weeks worth--I leave with a desire to come back refreshed and renewed for continued ministry for the Lord. People like Claire and Mark make me want to keep going!

NOTE: I will be making entries on my blog page throughout the summer; if you are reading check in with me and let me know!

family first

We just concluded a four week series about the family at Grace. I entitled the series, "The Family...According to the Bible" and challenged our church families to commit to the principles of God's Word as they define husband-wife relationships and parent-child responsibilities. Because so many of those principles are counter-cultural, and dismissed as "archaic" and "old-fashioned", it was encouraging to see our young families verbally respond to the counsel of the Word.

We have been evaluating the overall ministry of our local church and asking, "What are we doing to build strong families?" That question seems especially relevant when there are aggressive steps to redefine the family, to substitute alternative forms of family, and, generally, to relegate the family to secondary status in terms of importance and viability.

What is tragic is that the rate of divorce is as high within the church community as it is outside of it. Incidences of immorality and moral failure are not foreign to the body of Christ. This should not be so if we are affirming in word and deed the clear teaching of God's Word about commitment, unconditional love, sacrificial service and purity.

I believe in "family first", even though I sometimes skewed the lines between work and home priorities as a younger pastor, husband and father. As I grew older, and gained some perspective about what really mattered, God changed my focus. Still today I battle the workaholic nature within me that would pull me away from my wife and my home. It is a daily discipline to determine what comes first.

Are you winning the battle of priorities? Have you embraced the fact that your family is your immediate sphere of influence and responsibility? I have often though how tragic it would be to "win the world" and lose my family.

With six children grown and ten grandchildren growing, I want to be sure that I herald the scriptural importance of preserving and protecting our families..."familiy first"!

CLAIRE

At 8:15 a.m. this morning Claire Willoughby was ushered into heaven and I am guessing all the angels smiled when she arrived. Claire always made people smile when they were in her presence.

Pastor Ward and Claire came to Grace aout nine years ago, following over fifty years of ministry Ward had shared as a pastor in various locations within the Assembly of God denomination. Both had been widowed and renewed a friendship that led to their marriage almost ten years ago. I had the privilge of performing their wedding ceremony and all of us were convinced this was "a marriage made in heaven".

Watd has been on staff and Claire has been an invaluable asset to him. Caring for our senior citizens has been their primary responsibility and Claire's smiles and sweet cards punctuated the ministry of love and wisdom Ward extended to our church family.

Claire's life in recent years had been marked by a struggle with pain, particularly in her back. She also had open heart surgery and ongoing battles with a weakened heart condition and recently was diagnosed with a lung disease which contributed to her rapid deterioration physically.

Still, there was never a time that I visited with Claire that she failed to make me smile. My last visit with her, about six days ago, she was in and out of a state of awareness. I held her face in my hands to get her attention to tell her I loved her and I was leaving and would be back. She awakened, opened her eyes, and smiled at me as she said "You better!"

It seems trite to say "We will miss her", but these words take on an aura of truth and meaning for those of us who knew her well. Her smile that lifted our spirits will no longer grace the corridors of our church, or the fellowship opportunities where she always sparkled.

We are sad for us...but glad for her. And we are confident that she has plenty to smile about now with a refurbished back and a new heart and clear lungs. What certainly remains the same is her infectious smile.

two weeks and counting...

The promise of a sabbatical break draws closer; in fact, two weeks from today we will be en route to a wedding I will be performing in Southern California. Three days after that we will be on a cruise ship to the Mexican Riviera!

We are in the middle of several crises in church families--one of our staff member's wife is dying, one of our young men just had major brain surgery, and there are a number of other significant challenges in process.

Not exactly the right time to take a sabbatical...

Except I know that this is what every week in the ministry looks like...and I am not indispensable.

I am reminded these days of the wonderful group of devoted people with whom I serve at Grace Fellowship Church and how privileged I am to receive this generous gift of time away.

As a result, in the midst of crisis, I can say with a smile...I am glad God doesn't take a sabbatical!

My mom

Sunday was Mother's Day, and following our morning services, we drove about fifty miles to a setting with a beautiful back yard in the middle of a peaceful country setting. I jumped into the icy cold pool, assisted my twin brother in barbecuing an assortment of meats, and sat down to a potluck dinner prepared by our family--mom, sister, brother and sister-ib-law, nephew and niece (and her five year old) and my sweet wife.

Mom, of course, was the guest of honor. She read the note Bev and I wrote on a special card and cried, and the made a big deal out of some fine candy and a potted plant for her home. She received a bundle of cards and, deservedly so, was the center of my attention.

I watched her as she watched us--her family--visit together, laugh with one another, play Catch Phrase, and enjoy each other's company (as we always do) even though our sister, Joy was missing with her family in Arkansas. I sensed she was proud, as she surveyed the "fruit of her labors". My brother and I are ministers, our sister, Diane (shown above in the picture with mom), is a Christian school teacher, and Joy is married to a minister. No wonder, she--a minister's wife for over forty years--smiles.

My mother will eighty-three in July and I am expecting to spend lots more Mother's Days with her. But this last week I was glad for this year's edition--a special time of celebrating our terrific mom!

Divine appointment

In the early days of my return pastoring in Amador County I ran a painting business on the side, to supplement my earnings. I ultimately handed off the painting to a recovering alcoholic who worked hard for several years. However, the complete ruination of a large painting job as a result of his return to drinking resulted in my momentary brush with a total breakdown. I was scheduled to speak at Silver Lake Chapel, a rustic retreat in the mountains in a chapel overlooking a scenic lake, and I decided I needed to cancel. I was too emotionally-drained, I felt, to even preach.

But, thankfully (providentially), my wife persuaded me that the trip away for two days would be just what I needed...and she made me promise to shut down my painting business.

It was a typically beautiful summer weekend and the little chapel's setting, idyllic in every way, brought me much-needed rest and rejuvenation. The little chapel was packed, with campers seated out to the porch area in front. I am uncertain what I shared but after the service a man, a little older than me, obviously moved by the service, , approached me to tell me he had not been in church since the death of his mother as a teenager. He asked me where our church was located and said he would come and visit me sometime.

Well, that promise resulted in five families driving 45 minutes every Sunday to our services in Amador County. Two of those families have become a vital part of Grace Fellowship even to this day.

Yesterday I ate lunch with the man who approached me after that Silver Lake service. We have become good friends and he is moving out of the area to a retirement setting--out of driving distance. I felt sadness as we shared together and reminisced about the circumstances that brought us together. But I felt joy at the strengthening of his faith.

Just across the restaurant from us was a familiar face, though marked with signs of dissipation and ruin. It was the man I had hired to paint years ago who informed me he was on his way to serve nine months in the county jail for a variety of offenses. He thanked me for how I had helped him in the past. I hugged him and told him I would be praying for him...and I will undoubtedly visit him in jail.

Coincidences...or divine appointments> I know what my choice would be!

And by the way, I have never hired out for painting since I made that promise to my wife!

Velma Church

I am a twin so I have a natural affinity for twins. Velma, and her twin sister, Thelma, are two special ladies in their mid-eighties. They attend Grace Fellowship Church when they can and my hsitory with them goes back over thirty years.

When I moved to Pine Grove in 1976 Velma, and her husband, Henry, had been pastoring the church I cam to lead as they retired. The house our family moved in to, was owned ny Thelma. I recently participated in Henry and Velma's 60th wedding anniversary and just a year ago Henry went to be with the Lord and I had the honor of participating in his memoiral service.

I recently had visited with Velma in church and more recently at the funeral for a mutual friend. She and Thelma were inseparable and they would always greet me with contagious smiles and the spirit of gentleness that was characteristic of them both.

On Sunday morning I was greeted with the mews that Velma had died in her sleep and gone to be with the Lord. it was a busyt Sunday--our Dedication--but my thoughts immediately turned to sadness, even though just for a moment. I called Thelma and she shared with me some of the details of Velma's death but then our conversation turned to the affirmation of her certain reunion with Jesus in heaven.

People like Velma are irreplacable. Velma's smile was unforgettable. Although Iw ill miss her funeral due to a family wedding in nashville, my thoughts will be of Velma and the indelible imprint she made upon my life. Welcome home to your reward in heaven, Velma, faithful servant of God.

I know she's smiling!

dedication

It hardly seems possible that after thirty months of construction, and six months in our new facilities...we are finally having a dedication service (the one planned for October, 2006).

Sunday, April 22nd at 10:00 a.m. we will gather for a special worship service and at 3:00 p.m. the community will join us in a service of dedication. Why bother?

It is important for me that we affirm to our congregation that this dedication is not about a building; it is about the ministry we envisioned that prompted our construction.

It ie equally significant that we have an opportunity to say to our community, "This building is for you. Come, and bring your families and worship Christ with us. Come and meet Christ here!"

It truly is NOT about the building, and, yes, you can meet Christ anywhere.

But He will be here, too.

So will we, seeking to do the ministry to which He has called here...and there.

Home at last!

Eighteen months ago Valerie was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. Since then she has battled ferociously the ravages of cancer and a short-circuited life that threatened to take her prematurely from her husband, three small boys and extended family.

She died this evening at 9:30 p.m.

This morning I read her blog, updated almost daily by a family member or friend--most often her father--chronicling her journey. As I read today I sensed it might be the day God called her home and so I chose to read from her father's recent comments in my sermon today.He referred to II Corinthians 4:18, "...so we fix our eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary but what is unseen is eternal." I spoke from John 20:19-31 and Thomas' battle with doubt but his confession of faith upon confronting the risen Christ, "My Lord and my God!"

I have personally grieved Valerie's difficult journey. She is my wife's daughter-in-law's sister, and she lived with her for a period of time twelve years ago. I met her several times--just short vignettes--but observed someone beautiful and vibrant with life. I have two daughters of my own and I have experienced deep empathy with Valerie's father as he openly shared his emotions on the blog site that posted information about Valerie's journey.

He wrote tonight about the certainty that she was at home with the Lord.

Home at last! What a glorious comfort!

Please pray for this family this week. They will be grieving the loss of a daughter, a mother, and a wife, and for many others, a special friend.

Des

I pastored in Pine Grove, a nearby town, nearly thirty years ago. A member of my congregation was Des Cranfill, a man then already in his early seventies. He was a saint--all believers are referred to as such--but he was the genuine article. His favorite song was a Dallas Holm song entitled "Rise Again" that was written about that time. A friend of mine and his wife sang it with me the first Easter Sunday it was out, and it was moving for all of us--especially Des.

Des was 102 years old to the day when he went to be with the Lord on Monday. He had been in a convalescent care facility and had steadily failed since he broke his hip several months ago. I was with him on Sunday evening and, though he was in a coma-like state, I whispered to him the words "Yes, I'll Rise again..." I am not sure he heard them but in just a few hours he was literally whisked away into the presence of God.

A couple of days before he died--the last day he was conscous--I walked into his room where members of his family had gathered. Because he was almost deaf I shouted into his ears, "How are you doing, Des?" he recognized my voice, lifted up his head from the pillow and said for all to hear, "I love you, pastor", and then begin to sing the words, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty..."

Those were his last words to me--the last words he spoke that were understood. What a way to remember my friend, Des!

Resurrection Hope

In the great resurrection chapter of the Bible in I Corintians 15 Paul reminds us that if we have hope only in this world we are miserable, or, to be pitied.

Valerie, our daughter-in-law's sister, is causing us to evaluate our resurrection hope as we approach Easter. Eighteen months ago she was diagnosed with inoperable liver cancer and she has been gallantly fighting its assault with her husband and three small children looking on. Her father and mother and extended family have chronicled her journey on a web site and the entries have echoed her family's faith in God.

Just last week Valerie was brought home from the hospital and placed under hospice crisis care. This mornng's blog says she is somewhat stronger today and the crisis team has left, though her condition remains critical. Earier blogs revealed that the children were in counseling, preparing them for what seems to be inevitable.

Death is inevitable for all of us. There is a darkness and a sadness about death that is inescapable. Grief is unavoidable when we contemplate the loss of a loved one's life.

But resurrection hope casts a light of anticipation and ultimate joy for the believer. A church family told me Sunday their 102 year old father was failing and I reflected on my visit with him earlier last week and his smile when we talked of heaven. For Valerie, only thirty-eight years old, her life seems short-circuited and relinquishment of it to God's divine purpose must be a much more challenging option.

As Easter approaches for Valerie, for my friend, Des, and for me, my prayer is that resurrection hope will lift us to the realization that God has made us for more than this world, and that what awaits us on the other side of death, is an eternity of joy in His presence.

Evaluating family ministry...

Twenty of us met today to discuss the growing number of young families at our church. We acknowledged, as well, the increased variety of challenges including single parent homes, blended families, "deadbeat" dads, cultural redefinitions of family and roles, options to public education including home-schooling...and the list goes on. Each of these factors--and others--make us ask, "What can we do to build stronger families?"

Several pieces of information have motivated me afresh to ask this question. A single mother told me about her daughter's losing battle with meth addictiton; another mother of six (friend of my sister) fell out of a swing and broke her neck, leaving six chidlren motherless. And there are the daily phone calls detailing family crises of every color and form--more than we can effectively counsel and address with our current personnel resources.

Sadly enough, the battle for the family is being lost as much within the church as without. Divorce, premarital sex, infidelity--these things, and more, are prevalent among believers even though they are allegedly committed to the teachings of the Word of God which warns against each. Ministers, as the news reminds us almost weekly, have succumbed to the temptations of marital failure, in alarming numbers. even amongst our leaders in the church there is alarming evidence that God's word is not being taken seriously.

What can we do?

As we evaluate family ministries at Grace we are being drawn back to the teachings of scripture that talk about the role of a husband and wife, the training of children and the principles of maintaining healthy relationships. Even as I write these words I can sense the cultural antipathy towards words like "roles" and "training", as if they were archaic remnants of a hideous past.

The dissipation of the family unit parallels the concomitant descent into what has become a largely dysfunctional society. The fact that there are those who clamor for same sex marriages, punishment for those who spank their children, and other things that were unthinkable to us decades ago, only accentuates the dangerous path we are on. It mirror the demise of other great civilizations who abandoned values that once were critical to their internal strength.

As we evaluate family ministry, we realize we occupy a very small spot on the horizon of the future. But at Grace we feel compelled to a better job of teaching what the Word of God proclaims to be true...though it may make us the object of ridicule, even from those who sometimes attend.

In May I will present a series AT Grace on the subject, "The Family...According to the Bible". Stay tuned!

Missions Faire

Every year at Grace Fellowship we have a missions conference weekend. It has looked familiar the last several years--though it has been well-done--but was curiously absent of young families. Our Board of World Missions decided to address that issue this year, figuring that if we don't get young families involved NOW, our missions program in the future could be on unsteady ground.

Enter the Missions Faire, a wonderfully interactive environment for families to see and feel missions. Nineteen booths housed the various missionary enterprizes we support--both foreign and local--and were complete with video presentations, slide shows, pictures, hand-out materials of various related subjects, as well as some hands-on activities for children. These booths were manned by local church people, in some cases, and by visitng and local missionaries as they were available.

The net result was a significant increase in participation and many comments reflecting on the effectiveness of an atmosphere that engaged our senses--allowing us to literally have a visual and sensory exposure to the various missionary outreaches we support. It was exciting for me to see young children pounding nails into boards-as if they were constructing a building to house missionary activity--and staring curiously at videos of far-away places that probably seem like another world to them.

It was equally gratifying to see our church families working hard to construct booths, communicate with missionaries so they could effectively decorate a booth with appropriate artifacts and pictures from their country, and enthusiastically answer questions while welcoming guests to the various mission outreaches they represented.

Many of the missionaries participated in the Sunday morning interactive sermon I prepared, utilizing their testimonies as a n illustration of how we can be "salt" and "light"--each one of us--in a world that so desperately needs the good news of the gospel (Matthew 5:13-16).

Marty Hooper (wife, Maxine)--evangelist to the world (affectionaely dubbed by me, "Pastor of Peace"), Bob and Lisa Margaron, missionaries to the very needy "underbelly" of Stockton's gang neighborhoods, and Mike and Shirley Pounds, working through City Team Missions in the most troubled area of San Francisco all helped to bring missions "home" to us as they shared over the weekend. These are missionaries that are closely-alligned with us at Grace and close nearby geographically, enabling us to benefit from their insights during the year.

All in all, our Missions Fires, so ably orchestrated by Paul Wesseler, was a huge success. It was not a Missions Faire--but a Mission Superbly done!

worship and weeds

Following a wonderful Sunday morning of worship I was transitioned on Monday to a job of weeding--something I wanted to do.

It was a little cloudy--but a patchy blue sky overhead--and the springlike warmth of a late morning sun enveloping me--that made me revel in the moments of extricating weeds that had invaded a new planter area with reckless abandon. My primary concern was that these weeds appeared ready to mount a takeover and their deceitful lush green was shrouding the potential beauty of an area to be appropriately planted with flowers and color.

And so I weeded, sitting in the middle of the planter area and filling my plastic bag with weeds to be later disposed of in a large wheel barrel, and then carted off to "weed heaven". My wife had turned on some music--some religious, some not--but it was a secondary background to the beauty of the moment and the contemplation of the task.

In a few hours the weeds were gone, the appropriate cleanup accomplished and my wife and I surveyed our accomplishment with some measure of pride amd satisfaction. There is planting still to be done, but the "wretched" job of pulling weeds is history.

I want to worship on Sundays. Sometimes I have to extract some things from my mind--pull out the weeds--but the process enables me to observe the true beauty of God.

Such "weeding" may be the precursor to true worship.

It is if you want a garden of flower and color with the face of God not obscured from view.

saturday nights

Tomorrow is Sunday, not a day of rest for a minister. I come to Sundays with a mixture of emotions often reflective of the week preceding. This week my seven year old grandson was sick and ended up in the hospital having surgery in Dallas (pretty scary!), my wife's mother had an incident that precipated conversations about assisted living, two families told me they were moving to another church (for various reasons), a young father with a big family had some tough chemotherapy, a good friend's mother died after a short bout with cancer, my wife's sister had knee replacement surgery...and it snowed.

But it's Saturday night. A time for reflection, a time for anticipation.

What do I have to say tomorrow that will matter to anyone who has been in any of the common situations I have described above? Why would anyone leave their world of confusion and crisis to come to church?

That's why I love Saturday nights because I know tomorrow IS Sunday.

And people will come--not everyone I wish would be there--but they will come. They will come to serve, to worship, to listen, to open their hearts to the Word of God.

And I will be there. Not alone, but with the Word of God which, midst all the events of the week, has been the steadying influence in my life. I humbly carry its truth into the pulpit, and even though there will be some who are skeptical--and probably a few naysayers--God's Word will go forth.

Maybe imperfectly, and, certainly, through a flawed mouth piece.

But Saturday night will have passed, Sunday morning will have come, and there will be new words of truth to embrace and new hope for another week.

BREACH

Chris Cooper plays a conflicted character in this newly-released movie about a real life American spy who sold huge security secrets to the Soviet Union. We are shown a man of highly-developed family values and fervent religious principles. At the same time, his fascination with lurid pornography as well as his deliberate betrayal of his countrymen leading to their execution is revealed to us.

We are left to wonder what made Richard Hanssen do what he did? No answers are forthcoming in this vivid portral of a man who breaches the most basic of human ethics in his pursuit of subliminal political goals as well as the money he decries as unimportant.

The breach apparent to me is with his own conscience. It is so savagely-seared that he can peacefully co-exist with the innocent love of his grandchildren and the open-affirmation of his faith in God while at the same time navigating a course of eventual self-destruction.

There is a potential breach in all of us of what is good and right and ethical. It is fed and nurtured by our sinful and self-destructive nature. We cannot avert its inevitable destruction unless we submit to the voice of God and the wooing of the Holy Spirit calling us to true faith in God, the One who made us for so much more than what we often settle.

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!

break time

Bev and I will be gone September 22-October 2. It is a time we look forward to, getting away from our work and enjoying one another exclusively.

Break times are essential in life. I know for Bev and me these times can be more discretionary than for others and that helps us stay resilient in our work. Our church family looks out for our well-being and this is one of the privileges of their watchful care.

Sometimes we must take a break so we won't break--the pressures of life can be potentially overwhelming and we all need time to step away from our normal routine to be refreshed and encouraged.

I have learned, as well, that a break time is not a break from God. In fact, this is a time for us to draw close to Him, to reflect upon His Word, and to literally rest in the hope of His promises.

I will let you know how it went when we return as I take a break from my blogsite as well.

9-11, five years later

The events of 9-11, now five years ago, have dominated the news and television media for the last few weeks. The human interest stories of courage and heroism are inspiring. The tragedy of lives lost and families torn apart are painful reminders of what happens when terror strikes.

We all can remember where we were and what we were doing on that fateful day. 9-11 is Bev's birthday so I got up early and wrote a "happy birthday" message in toothpaste on our bathroom mirror so she could it when she got ready for the day. I heard her laughing in the bathroom as I watched the early morning news and in moment we would both be sitting solemnly before the television screen in our bedroom, mesmerized by the pictures of devastation we saw.

There was a particularly poignant mement when Bev would break the silence by wondering frantically aloud about her son, Chad, who often traveled in his business to that area. We would later learn that a meeting he was to attend near the Twin towers had been cancelled for that morning.

I remember preaching a sermon on that Sunday that followed about how we cope with our fears and finding a highly-responsive audience grappling with its own heightened sense of mortality and anxiety. Almost everyone knew someone who was in one way or another touched by this tragedy.

Here's the deal for me. Are we different because of 9-11? Some people--though few--don't fly any more. All of us who air travel walk through more intensive machine screening and related delays when we take a trip. Now we have to leave our drinking water and hair gel behind, given the nature of terrorism's machinations.

But in the end, we are not all that different. Did 9-11 make us a more godly nation. I don't think so. Did 9-11 result in a long-term solid increase in church attendance? I know for a fact it did not. Are husbands and wives suddenly more attentive to one another knowing that the unforeseen events of the day could forever change their lives? No; in fact, I am seeing an escalation of family hostility and unresolved marital crises.

So, what it it about us that seems resistent to the terror and catastrophes of life? We have an almost "unhealthy" resiliency that allows us to forget the events of the past that could/should forever shape and mold us. I am certain that those who were immediately impacted by 9-11 carry forever the scars of that fateful day. But it almost seems as if it does not happen to us personally, we can segue to the next week or month without any long-term changes.

The catastrophic moments of life that I have experienced--divorce, loss of my father, battles with depression--have forever shaped me and, hopefully, for the better. I have said to God, "Help me not to go through anything as painful as this and not learn something that will make me a better person".

But all of my learning does not have to be from personal tragedy. I think I can learn from the tragedy of others. When I remember 9-11 I contemplate the shortness of life, the insecurity of the world, the importance of not leaving relationships unresolved, etc.

I think I am different because of 9-11. It is my wife's birthday so that day will always be meaningful. But now when I thinkof 9-11 I think of what we experienced together as a nation and what I, personally, hopefully, learned.

MY OFFERING

As we move through our study of the Gospel of John, I have found meaningful help for the daily challenges of my life, which have accelerated in recent months. I am not proud of my wanderings into doubt and disillusionment but they are only momentary detours. I seem to always find my way back--thank God--to my unshakeable faith in God.

John 12:1-19 begins with the story of Mary's anointing of Jesus and then proceeds to His triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Her sacrifical offering of pure nard--a very costly perfume--is the expression of her love offering and devotion to Christ. In the succeeding verses we see the crowds welcoming Jesus shouting, "Hosanna", or "Save us now!" They are honoring Him with their palm branches and emotional accolades based on their expectation that He will be their poltical deliverer. Thus, they welcome Him as a triumphant king returning from battle.

Sadly, their "hosannas" will turn into "Crucify Him!" when the realization hits that an earthly kingdom is not what He is about. Their offering is a conditional one.

I want my daily offering to Jesus to be sacrificial and unconditional. Paul's admonition is Romans 12:1 is that in view of God's mercy and grace towards us it only makes good sense for us to offer ourselves as a "living sacrifice" unto Him (Barrett Paraphrase).

So for me, in the midst of some bad times and discouraging circumstances, I don't want to withdraw from God, or hold Him hostage for unmet expectations.

I choose to offer my life to Him again--without reservation--because I am confident He is here, present with me, and that He is more than enough for any challenge I will face today, and tomorrow.

processing grief

A young friend from out of town called this week to talk about how he was handling the untimely death of his father. A mother and I shared together about the frightening news of the possible relapse of her daughter and the troubling forecast of days to come.

Personally, I have been dealing with the unsettling news of a potentially-life threatening decision someone has made who I care deeply about.

How do we grieve? How do we process the information of life that breaks our hearts, touching the very emotional center of our being? How do we "get on with our lives" when the people we love are hurting?

I have wrestled with this through most of my ministrial years, getting "up close and personal" with people going through a divorce, facing death, responding to a drug-addicted son or daughter, etc. There is often nothing to say--no real comfort to offer--because the truth is that these are most often siutaitons that are out of our control. The choices that are being made--we can't alter. The dissolution of a relationship--we can't fix for someone else. The doctor's pronouncemnet--we can't wave a magic wand and make it go away.

What we do is grieve. And grieve we must.

The comfort of God is what sustains me. The words of II Corinthians 1:3ff have been my help. "...the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles..." His comfort enables us to persevere in the hurtful situations of life...even as we grieve.

home, sweet home

I love seeing my family in Dallas. I love playing with my grandchildren. I love getting away from the regular routine.

But there is no place like home!

I came home yesterday to a pile of mail, a lawn to mow, a suitcase of dirty clothes to unpack, 536 e-mails, some disappointing news, and a cluttered desk with all kinds of exciting challenges.

But I love my bed. I love my neighborhood. I just love being at home.

dallas...here we come

We leave for Dallas in the morning to visit children and grandchildren, something I look forward to since we get to do it just twice a year.

Three of our grandchildren--JJ, Camilla and Owen--live in the Dallas area. Milla said to me on the telephone tonight, "Grandpa, will you buy me some ice cream?"

That's enough to get me packing!

A LITTLE SPANISH

One of our on site workers called me today and said he needed me to come and deliver a message to some Latin Amercian workers who are doing some tape and texturing work for us. None of them here today speak any English.

I am the resident Spanish "linguist" on the premises since I took three years of Spanish...forty years ago!

I went a delivered a very short message "Neccesitamos esto para veinte minutos." That was supposed to mean "We need this (piece of equipment) for twenty minutes." They smiled and agreed by getting off the equipment so we could use it. Mission accomplished!

For communication to take place it must be in a language we can both understand--sender and receiver alike. How do we communicate spiritual truths to those who don't understand the language of the Word or who can't relate to the theological terms we use?

Missionaries spend alot of time in countries where they don't know the language pairing up with local residents so they can establish relationships and learn the language that will enable them to effectively communicate the gospel.

I have tried to speak to our workers on site with a smile and a "Thank you" or "Good job!" However, if I want to share with them the truth about Jesus it will take more than that. Relationship gives me the opportunity to be heard, and then the use of language they truly can understand will provide the words that conveywhat I want them to know about Christ.

Learn a little Spanish...?

More importantly, build a relationship.

A visit with Virginia

Virginia does not go to my church. She is related to someone I know and I have had a personal relationship with her for over thirty years, though mostly from a distance. She has had her own church and her own pastors, but she has always been my friend.

I heard from her family Sunday that she is dying and so I called to see if I could come and visit with her. Beverly joined me as we went to see her yesterday.

She was downstairs laying in her bed in front of a window box planted with the caladiums that she had nursed with her own hands. They were a beautiful backdrop to her fragile body diminished by a five year battle with various infections that have now weakened her. She probably has just days to live.

But who would know?

She smiled as she greeted us with a somewhat raspy voice. I leaned over and gave her a kiss, and she welcomed Beverly, who she has only known a short while.

Our conversation was of heaven and hope. Was she fearful? No. Was she anxious to go? Yes. Why? This is what she has lived for. And now it is simply time to go.

We talked about her funeral and the part I would have and I reminded her of the legacy and testimony that she was leaving to friends and family members even in the days she has left until God calls her home.

And then we joind hands together and prayed. I kissed her good-bye, knowing I may not see her again...but promised I would see her again in heaven, by God's grace.

I will not soon forget my visit with Virginia.

The World Trade Center

I sneaked away this week and went to see the movie, "The World Trade Center". I was impressed by the poignant true story of two Port Authority policemen who were pulled from the rubble (2 out of 20) and lived to relate their harrowing story.

Apart from an apparition of Jesus that appeared to one of the men, there is, amazingly, no mention of God, faith, death, eternal life--all topics I would expect in a near-death experience. This is not to subtract from the character of these men, whose life and character are revealed to us through carefully-orchestrated flashbacks and crisis-generated dialogue. They have survived in spite of long-term injuries and their families, apparently, remain in tact.

I have been studying in John 11 in the passage where Jesus declares "I am the resurrection and the life" and then proceeds to demonstrate that by raising Lazarus from the dead. The context affirms that if we believe in Jesus though we may die, we will live eternally, and that challenges the fear and mystery of death, unaddressed and unanswered in the movie I saw. 2700 people died on 9-11 and our nation was pushed to the brink of disaster, but I am not sure, having flirted with death, that we yet have come to grips with our mortality.

The World Trade Center tragedy reminds me that we have no promise of tomorrow, that death "stalks" every man, and Jesus shouts into the darkness, "I am the resurrection and the life!"