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