A Parable for Me or Us?

   There is a parable in the Gospel reading for today in Luke 13:

   And he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came seeking fruit on it and found none. 7 And he said to the vinedresser, ‘Look, for three years now I have come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and I find none. Cut it down. Why should it use up the ground?’ 8 And he answered him, ‘Sir, let it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put on manure. 9 Then if it should bear fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.’”

   When I read this, the thing that caught my eye was the patience of the vinedresser, the one tasked with the care and production of the vineyard. His word was "let's give it one more chance", and I wonder whether or not that was his word to the owner last year at this time.

   How many times has God looked into my life and wondered about any production, any fruit? How many times has He relented when "the tree should have been cut down", and given a reprieve? Given my time on this earth, it must have been quite a few times, and my question is how much have I taken advantage of this extended time to actually do something for Him?

   This all correlates to this country as well. God has blessed this land in a mighty way, and these blessings extend to all the people living in it. How much have we tried His patience with our silly schemes and our wanton disregard of His moral guidelines? How long have we presumed upon His blessings, as though they are our right, and so will be perpetuated forever?

   How soon might we hear "cut it down" rather than "let's give it another year"? How soon for me?

   What do I do? I listen for His voice speaking to me through His Word, through other believers, and through the circumstances of my life that He brings about. I listen, and I hear about my sins and failures that I need to repent of, and turn from, and then I listen to what my production should be, and get on with that.

   That formula is true for me, and it is true for our nation.

   The parable is for me and for us. Individually and collectively, we need to take it to heart so as to hear "well done" and not "cut it down".

   While I pray for His patience, I also plead for "ears to hear what His Spirit says to me". 

   So may we all.

Miracle in Maine

   On Friday we flew out of Jacksonville, changed planes in Charlotte, continued our flight with Dwayne and Karen and Sydney and landed at Portland, Maine, later that same day. All of this was to see, and be with, Sawyer, our first grandson in college and to be with his dad and mom and sister, who set up the trip and invited us to go along.

   On Saturday we watched the NECA cross country meet. This conference of Division III schools is eleven strong and all the schools are located in the same area as Bowdoin, Sawyer's institution.

   After the meet, and eating a little lunch, touring the campus with our grandson guide, and looking around that area of Maine (a beautiful spot to be sure), we were all set to go out for some Maine lobster. But some trouble intervened.

   Dwayne knocked at our door in the Inn, telling us that he had had an email alert from our airline, saying that because of Sandy, the latest hurricane, and its path toward the northeast, we might want to rethink our going home on Monday. After talking it over, we decided that prudence might dictate that we try to get out on Sunday before the storm hit that area, even though that would cut our visit short.

   Then the fun began. Dwayne managed to get into the US Air web site and get his reservation changed to a Sunday flight, this being the exact same flight we were to take on Monday to Charlotte. He had to take 3 separated seats, because so many had already taken that one and only non-stop flight from Portland to Charlotte, on that day. But he was all set, and now we needed to do the same.

   With Dwayne trying to help us book seats on that flight, we began the ordeal. Dwayne tried the phone line for US Air while I went downstairs to use the computer in the lobby. He stayed on hold for at least 20 minutes while I finally got on the website. When I got to the point where they told me what options I had, there was only one. Leaving on Sunday morning, going to Philadelphia and then on to Jacksonville later that day. Seeing that Philly was going to be in the path of the storm long before Portland, that did not seem like an ideal, so we decided to try another plan.

   While the rest of the family went on out for supper, I called the online travel site that I had used to book the reservations in the first place. After explaining the situation to the customer service rep, she said she would try to get through to the airline, and see what she could do. She put me on hold and about every 5 minutes she would come back online to tell me she was still holding for someone to talk to about the whole problem. US Air has thousands of flights all along the east coast and they were swamped with folks requesting changes to their booked flights. I did not count the minutes, but I imagine I was on hold for 20 minutes or so, when she came back on and said she could not get through, and even if she did, she did not think she could do any better that I could on my own, since the airline's email had said there would be no charge for any change in my booking, and she could not guarantee that at all.

   About this time I was getting a little agitated with the inability of anyone to help, and thought that maybe we might have to take a chance on Monday's flights being OK.

   In one last desparate attempt at a solution, I looked up US Air in the yellow pages and called, with little hope of any type of help. Lo and behold, after a short computer question asking me about my request, a real person came on the line and asked if she could help. After getting up off the floor, my situation was explained and then it became her turn to try to help. She said "I think I can help you in this, let's see what we can do". Could this be the beginning of a miracle.

   She then asked if I would like to go out on Sunday with the same schedule that we had originally booked for Monday. "That would be great" was the hopeful replay, and she continued to work. Then some partial good news, "I can book you on the Charlotte to Jacksonville with no problem so let's see about Portland to Charlotte". Great, now all we have to do is get to Charlotte.

   As she continued to work on her end, I knew we were not home free, the most important thing was leaving Maine before the storm, even if we had to take a roundabout route to get home.

   "I found two seats on the Portland to Charlotte flight at 8AM Sunday", she announced, and we cheered. That was the flight we needed to make our connection to the other one she already had lined up. Not only that but the seats were together, not even separated like
Dwayne's. We thanked God and took the booking.

   I had spent a couple of hours, spinning my wheels, being put on hold numerous times, becoming somewhat perturbed, and here this lady took care of it in 10 minutes. Let me list the parts of this Miracle in Maine:

   1. getting a person to answer, and not only that, ready to help, and have a solution

   2. not being on hold for an eternity while any possible seats disappeared from view

   3. getting two seats together on the Charlotte flight and the Jax one also

   4. having the same itinerary as Dwayne and family so that we could ride to Portand together

    We went to Portland early on Sunday, caught our flight to Charlotte with Dwayne, Karen and Syd, waited for an hour or so, had some breakfast and prepared to move on toward Florida.

   Then the icing on the cake. We got on the Jax plane and found that we had seats in first class. Talk about a happy couple going home, that was us, smiling all the way, and, along with all the amenities of that seating, they did not even charge us extra for our luggage, and it came down the luggage carousel as advertised.

   If that is not the definition of "cool", I don't know what is.

   God is Good.....Soooooo Good

   And we are blessed, Thank You, Amen

  

What Do I Need Today?

   Today is a travel day. Mayre and I are flying out of Jacksonville this afternoon, going to Charlotte, changing planes, meeting Dwayne and Karen and Sydney at the gate, and flying on to Portland, Maine with them for the long weekend.

   It is a short drive from Portland to Brunswick, where our oldest grandson is in college at Bowdoin. He is a sophomore this year and runs on the cross country team. Tomorrow is their conference meet, being held at their school, and it will give us a chance to, not only visit with him, but to watch him run and see the campus as well.

   

   Although we are not rabid fans of airline travel, with all its new hassles, it is the only way to be able to make this trip. We just pray that all the planes will be on time, that the weather will cooperate, and that a good time will be had by all. Perhaps even hurricane Sandy will stay away from where we are, and we won't have to deal with that storm.

   So as I sit and think about the day, what the plans are and what things might be on our path, I ponder what to pray for. Sure we will pray for safety, for patience, for stamina, for us and the rest of the family, but what else might we need.

   Then I come across this verse in Luke 12:

   "your Father knows that you need them."

   God, the Father, knows what I need right now, this moment, and He knows what my needs will be as the day progresses. I can project, in my mind, what the day will look like, but He knows. Not only that, but He has shown that He cares, and I trust that He does.

   Someone has my back, and that is all that matters.

   I rest my case.

A Chance Meeting, or More Than That?

   I sit back this morning and consider the events of yesterday, and how they seem to relate to the Scripture that I read right now. I also confess that I did spend some time looking at another Scripture on Wednesday, but just came up dry when it came time to write. Now I do not like to be shut out like that and have to say that it seemed that God did not speak or lead me in any of that. Perhaps it was because I was not ready to listen.

 
   We have a regular elders meeting every second and fourth Wednesday morning. Yesterday, our family pastor was in attendance and he spoke of a man in the church who had approached him with a desire to minister to a certain segment of the congregation. I knew this man and had been impressed by his willingness to serve, and so I volunteered to make the contact, on behalf of the elders, to get his heart on this.

   After I returned home, and after unsuccessfully being able to feel any nudge by the Spirit on what to write, I just went out to play golf, walking nine holes while Mayre went to get her hair fixed. Sometimes exercise has a way of clearing my mind, and I don't mind the golf either. So, as I played, I came up behind two men. As I was playing somewhat faster than they were, they waited for me on a tee box, beckoning me to play through. As I approached them, I realized that I knew one of the men, and that it was the very person that I had agreed to contact. Never before, in all the years I have played this course, had I ever run into him. Was it a sign that this contact on a new ministry was supposed to be? I take it that way as I think about it now, but was it more than just that?

   Then this morning, as I sit and think about the Fatherhood of God, and as I wonder how all that is supposed to feel in my life, I am reminded of what He showed me yesterday. He cared enough about me, and he cared enough about the heart of my friend, to put us together for a few brief minutes, so that we might begin a process, one that could bring ministry to some forgotten people in our church.

   What will be the outcome of this man's desire to serve? God only knows that, but I know that He showed me today that He was still active in my life, and this reassurance is just what I needed this morning.

   So, as I think of all this, I read this verse in Psalm 50:

   "The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me;"

   And I am thankful.

God Is In Control: Comfort or Fear?

   I imagine that every generation living in the US, as they come to an election time, feels that this particular one coming up is the most important. There have always been major issues, from wars to cultural problems, that need the intervention of God to take care of. Probably every 4 years, as the citizens go to vote, the prayer of many is that God will take care of the problem of the moment so that the country can continue to grow and prosper.

   It seems no different this election cycle. The morality issues hit us from every angle. There is the violence, the abortion mess, the degeneration of high standards all through our entertainment and media culture, the elevation of deviant behavior and the ridicule of anything Christian. Then there is the economic situation, high unemployment, deficit spending, increasing national debt, loss of competitive advantage, and the entitlement culture. All of the above sap us of our collective moral and economic strength.

   As I hear our national leaders and want-to-be leaders, as well as the national parties that they represent, talk about how they will "fix" the problems and return this land to its former prosperous state, I wonder how we can make it as a people. How can we return this land to its former glory so that our children and grandchildren can have it as good or better than we have? How can the US be the light to the world that it has represented before, when darkness is crowding out that light?

   So many questions, so few answers coming out of the mouths of our national speakers. Have we lost our way, never to find it again?

   Then the thought hits me "God is in Control", and, for a moment I am comforted. Then I think farther and wonder if I should be happy or fearful of that fact.

   God is in control, no doubt about that, but does that statement imply that our country will rise up from its desperate situation and regain its glory, or does it mean that God will allow us to sink into an also ran nation, one whose glory days are in the past, dooming our children and theirs to a life of mediocrity and fear? We yearn for peace and prosperity, and we may be getting war and suffering. Has God put up with us long enough?

   A lot of the time when I pray, "Thy will be done", I envision good things, good things from my viewpoint, but His will can be for the things that might draw us back to Him, where we belong. These might not be so good in our eyes.

   Yes, God is in control, but I don't need to use it in such a flippant manner. We may want his blessings, but deserving them is another thing altogether.

   The one comfort I get from realizing that He knows and cares is that He is working in the hearts of men to cause them to seek and find Him. His control is for ultimate good, for me individually and for the country and its people as well.

  His words are  "Trust Me", and I will.

   The last verse of The National Anthem:

   Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

   We need that Trust again and in a big way.

   

Does God Care About Golf?

   For the past week, I have been serving as a volunteer at the McGladrey Classic, a PGA golf tournament that has been held here on St. Simons for the past few years. This is the 3rd year for this event, and it has had a successful run so far. My week started with training on Sunday last and ended with my being a spectator yesterday. In between I served as a walking scorer on Wednesday and Thursday and a standby on Saturday, to be used if someone was not able to perform their assignment on that day.

   Along the way, I met and interacted with a variety of people, almost all of them strangers to me at the time. From the ladies who chaired the scorers committee, to others who had the same assignment, to the ones who worked beside me on a particular foursome, to the golfers who made up our groups each day,  and to the spectators that came to watch. There were also the bus drivers on the shuttle buses that drove us in from the offsite parking each morning and the faceless voices on the radio from the control trailer that asked questions and wanted clarification of what data I might have entered into my handheld device for all the holes that I worked.

   Was all the effort to put on this tournament worth anything? Did God care about how it was run and who was the eventual winner? Did He care about the course and the weather? Maybe those are not the proper questions to ask.

   Did he care about the winner, a 37 year old journeyman pro golfer from South Carolina, who had played in 104 pro events over a multi year career and had never tasted victory in any of these? Did He care about the others on that final day yesterday, who came up short in their own bid for victory? How about the golfers who did not even make the cut to be able to play the final 2 days?

 

   Then there were the 1200 or so volunteers that came out to work. Did God care about them?

   How about the thousands of spectators who just came to watch, cheer and be amazed that men could actually hit the ball that far with that much finesse? Were they important?

   Thousands of people walked that golf course over the past week. Some kept the grass cut, some sold food in the concession area, some carried clubs for the players, some parked cars, some played and some watched. Were they on God's radar screen?

   The eventual winner, Tommy Gainey, won over $700 thousand dollars, but each one of those faces on the course this week are just as important as this pro golfer. They are winners too, when they realize the fact that God loves them just as much.

   A verse comes to mind: Romans 8:37 which states:

   "we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us."

   Does God care about golf? Perhaps not as much as some of us do, but He sure cares about all the people that were out there this week. He cares about them as a crowd of people, but more than that, He cares about each one individually.

   He cares about me and He cares about you.

   He cares about Tommy Gainey, too, and not just about the winning.

 

Today's "Bread" is All I Need

   Today my job in the golf tournament is to be the stand by, working in the check in area, to make sure that all the volunteers scheduled to be walking scorers check in, receive their equipment and assignments, and get to their respective stations on time. I also imagine that if someone on the course gets sick or injured, or if one does not show up at all, I will be pressed into duty as their replacement.

   My initial schedule called for me to check into the working area at 7am, and that called for me to be up and out of the house before 6:30, pretty early for a Saturday morning, but when I looked at the tee times for today, I noted that the first tee time was not until 9:40, and it seemed a long time between 7 and 9:15 when the first scorer was due to report.

   So I wondered what to do. Report at 7 as scheduled or come in later just to be there by 9? I had no phone numbers to call to find out the answer, but something, or someone, seemed to tell me, "just send an email, and, if you get an answer before you have to leave to be there as scheduled, fine, but if not just go on in". Also the thought came to me, "don't worry about all of that, just trust that you will know what to do in plenty of time for action".

   I emailed my committee chair around 9pm, checked before I went to bed around 10, no email was in the inbox from her, so went on to bed. Sure enough, she wrote me back around midnight, and I got it when I woke up this morning. "Don't come in till 9 in the morning", it said, so I kicked back to consider the whole happening as I read the Scripture for today.

   Could it be that this portion of the reading this morning spoke to the issue I was tempted to worry about last night?

   "Give us each day our daily bread,"

   The prayer is for daily bread, that which will sustain one for that day and not any time beyond that. Each day will stand on its own.

   Now my worry would have been petty to say the least. The world would not have come to an end if I actually went in a couple of hours early this morning, but the whole process seemed to speak of a deeper issue, that of control.

   Who is actually in control over my life and the things that happen in it? God or me?

   Do I worry about things that I can take action over, or things that are out of my control? In this case I could take one action, the email, but had no way to affect the outcome of what would happen from that point on. I got a response, but even if I did not, did it matter?

   God gives me a mind to think. I need to use it as far as I can, but worrying about any outcome that might or might not happen does not have a place in that.

   Thank You God, for a good night's rest, free from worry about such a minor question, and for an answer this morning with the solution.

   Now to actually show up and be flexible as to what might happen in the rest of this day.

Their Times and Mine

   David, the writer of the Psalm 31, is bemoaning the fact that his enemies are all around him and just waiting for his downfall. They set traps for him and look with glee on any bad thing that happens in his life.

   Yet in all of this he states:

   "My times are in your hand;"

   What is true of this man of God is also true of each one of us. God knows our times. He knows all about us, from the womb to the grave, and beyond. He knew it even before we were born.

   I plan to do things today, and then for some reason they get changed. He knows, and I just need to accept those changes and move ahead on that new path.

   For the past couple of days I have been working at the McGladrey Classic, our local PGA golf tournament. Yesterday I walked along with a threesome of pro golfers on their first round of this event. They are young, strong and can hit that ball a long way, a long way indeed. They are in their prime, and have the world by the tail. I'm sure that each one has dreams of being the next Ben Hogan or Arnold Palmer, or another of their golf heroes. They practice long hours, they play in many tournaments, and they sacrifice to meet their goals. I had only heard of one of the three before meeting them yesterday morning on the first tee box. (in order below: Tim Herron, James Driscoll and Matt Every)

   The only things that I know about these three are that they are good golfers, they are pretty nice guys, to each other and the people around them, and they are dead serious about the game that they play. I do not know their hearts and their dreams, their struggles and their victories, both on and off the course.

   But I do know that their times are in His hands also, whether they acknowledge that fact or not, just as mine are. They may have more time in their futures, but that does not change the facts any. Everyone is known by God, each one of us, and we can either go through life living like our times are our own, and we can make our own way, or we can be like David, and say, I know that You God, and You alone have control over my life.

   "Thy will be done"

(As an aside this morning: God answered my plea from yesterday by helping me not to mess up the entire PGA world with inaccurate scoring on my handheld device and giving me the stamina to go the entire 18 holes with no problems. I am grateful to Him for all of that, and I had a great day doing it.)

 

What Will Today Bring?

   As I sit to write on this morning, a verse from Psalm 37 appears:

   "Commit your way to the Lord;
trust in him, and he will act."

   I realize that, even though I may think I know the things that will happen in my life today, I cannot know the details, even if the broad outline does take place. Only God knows, and the only thing that I know to do is to give Him the day, and then walk through it in the knowledge of that commitment.

   Yesterday was the warm up day for the McGladrey Classic, our local PGA event here on St. Simons. I spent that time learning my new job, which consisted of walking 18 holes with a group of players, one pro and 3 amateurs, recording their stats and scores on a handheld device. There was a little pressure to get it perfect, but it was just a warm up for today.

 

   At approximately 9AM this morning, I will walk up to the first tee box, meet the players that I will be with for this round, and begin the "real" job. These 3 men will be playing in earnest, some for the money, others for various other reasons that come from winning a PGA event, or some even just showing that they can compete at this level. I want to do my job so as not to cause them any more stress than they must play under anyway.

   Simply put, I need to enter their scores and statistics into my little computing machine accurately and completely, so that the people back in the control trailer can pass on what is happening out on the course to anyone out there who cares about how each player is doing. I will need to walk the 18 holes with that group, keeping out of their way, and still concentrating on what each player is doing on each shot. I can't get caught up in their game, but seeing each shot as it happens and punching in results.

   It is not rocket science, but it is important to the players and the fans. There is a certain amount of stress in doing it correctly, and a certain amount of concern that I can do it right. After all, I did mess up a few times yesterday, when it did not even count. So the questions for this morning are:

   1. Can I keep up with all the stuff that I need to enter?

   2. Can I hold up on a physical level, finishing the 18 holes in an energetic mode?

   I admit, that as I lay in bed last night, those two questions did cause a little anxiety, but as I sit here this morning, I resolve to commit them to God and trust the outcome to Him.

   Maybe a silly little concern in the great scheme of life, I know, but all my life's doings should honor God, and I don't want this day to fail to do just that

Questions for a Busy Day

   Some days just are hard to find a place for any quiet time. I'll use this day as an example:

   Mayre Lou and I were going to an FCA breakfast to hear a couple of testimonies from 2 of the PGA players that are here for the McGladrey Classic which kicks off with a pro-am tomorrow and tournament play beginning on Thursday morning. So, after an early morning wake up, we made it to the venue, had breakfast, listened and then exited to go to Brunswick for shopping.

   The reason for going so early to the store was because I am supposed to work on my telephone book delivery beginning this afternoon, if the books arrive. There is an unknown here, and that is when the books will actually get here. They are on the truck, coming from Colorado, I think, but there is no firm ETA as yet.

   So, we come back home from the store, and, not knowing when I will get a call to work, I take the time to sit and study for a few minutes. In addition to those thoughts of what has already transpired at the breakfast, and what has gone on at the store, there are ideas about what the rest of the day might look like.

   I have the opportunity right now, to put in some quality time with my Bible readings, with some prayer and, if the time holds out, with some blogging. I have the time, but can I still my mind long enough to put it to good use? I guess that is why I like the very early morning the best, no prior distractions, unless it is a dream that I awake from.

   So, I sit and I try to get with the program, but I'm sleepy, and my mind flows back and forth, from the Bible passage to the program this morning, to the might-be's of the rest of the day. What to do?

   God knows my thoughts, my supposed schedule, and my heart, but still the question lingers: Is that enough?

   I am grateful that we got the opportunity to go to the breakfast this morning, grateful that the two pro golfers could share their Christian testimony and their faith journey with the folks that were there. I am grateful that we actually had a store to go to, so that we might fill our stomachs with nourishment. I am grateful that we had the funds to buy that stuff, and the transportation to get there and back. I am grateful for this time to be grateful, and the realization that we have so much to be thankful for.

   Perhaps God wanted me to take the time to be grateful this morning. It took a while for my thoughts to actually get to that point, but it is a point well taken. I am grateful to be grateful, and also grateful for the time to realize what this is all about.

   Will that thought hold me when I have to get up real early on Wednesday and Thursday to work my volunteer shift at the tournament? Perhaps God will give me some thoughts as I work, and as I watch the golfers go about their business. I surely hope that is the case......I need His thoughts, Big Time..

The Fate of Western Civilization...Or Not..

   This is the week of the McGladrey golf tournament, and, again, I am paying for the privilege of working as a volunteer. For the past two years, I have been used as a marshall, whose job has been to keep non-existent crowds quiet on obscure holes of the course. I say that, tongue in cheek, because this event does not attract the large numbers of people that flock to the larger events on the PGA schedule, and so, if I do not work on the finishing holes, where the people congregate, most of the people I see are players, caddies, and other volunteers. I get to watch a lot of good golf on the hole where I am stationed each day, but my work is minimal, to be sure.

 

   This year, I requested a change in jobs and ended up on the walking scorers committee. This must be a pretty good job because I notice that, of the 88 spots available to work on this, 80 of them are filled by folks who have done this job before. Since the tournament is only in its 3rd year, most of these volunteers probably worked last year. So it could be a job worth keeping.

   There is some stress in this position. I have to walk along with the players, keeping stats and scores on a handheld device that automatically sends the inputs back to the trailer where the PGA officials keep up with who is doing what out on the course. What if I mess up? Can I be the one who causes a disaster in the world of professional golf? Does it really matter? Will the world stop because I enter an incorrect score?

 

   All of a sudden, as I walk a little this morning, I think of the Starfish story that I heard many times while working the Kairos ministry in prison. The story goes briefly like this:

   While walking the beach one day, a man noticed a bunch of starfish scattered along the beach where they had been stranded by the receding tide. Shortly they would all die, the result of being out of the water on that hot day. Then he noticed a man up ahead of him going along, throwing starfish back into the ocean. Realizing that there were thousands of starfish on the beach, and catching up to the man as he bent down to toss another back, he asked him what difference it was going to make. There were so many starfish, such a long beach, and the whole enterprise was way beyond what one man could accomplish.

   The man spoke, as he bent down to pitch another one into the sea, "I may not be able to do much and it may not make much difference in the whole scheme of things, but it will make a difference to this one that I throw back". And he kept walking and throwing.

   So, how do I see the starfish story and the golf tournament working together? I see a small job, with minor influence on the world, being important in the eyes of the people who run the event, but more so to the people who depend on me to get it right, the players that walk with me.

   The fate of western civilization may not rest on my shoulders, but I do want to make a difference to the ones who depend on me to get it right.

   Now if I can just get this little hand held thingy figured out.

Veterans and Others

   I know what triggered my mind's thoughts this morning. Last night I downloaded a form to get some of my military records from the department of the government that does those sorts of things, and so I began thinking about my military service in the Army.

   Back in 1955 or so, when I was in college, there was a lot of talk about drafting men for the Army. One of the ways to get a deferment for the rest of my college years was to join the National Guard or the Army Reserves. There was a plan that a man could join up, signing in for a 8 year commitment, six years in the Reserves and two years on active duty. Even basic training was to be held off until graduation.

   So I took this plan, joined a Reserve unit in Chattanooga, attended weekend drills once a month and two weeks of summer camp. When Mayre and I were married in 1958, I transferred to a unit in Knoxville, where I worked, and kept up the same schedule. Later on, we moved back to Chattanooga and I switched once again, until I was discharged in 1962.

   Every man in the Army had what is called an MOS, which I think means Military Occupational Specialty. Basically, for me, it was a slot on the roster where they needed a name and a warm body to fill the position. At various times over the 7 years or so, I was a medical orderly in a hospital unit, a road grader operator in an Engineer outfit, a machine gunner in a basic infantry unit, and a clerk in a Headquarters company.

   My only hospital experience in that particular medical unit was helping the staff of a large facility at Ft. Bragg, NC as they moved from a small hospital to a new larger one. For two weeks at one summer camp, we carried stuff out of one, loaded it on trucks, unloaded it later and then carried it in to the new one.

   My engineering experience on the road grader consisted of making a passable dirt road out in the sticks of NC into an impassable one, but it was fun driving that monster around.

   I never did get to fire a machine gun, in fact, the only weapon that I qualified on was the 30 caliber carbine, which was a lot of fun.

   Not until my last assignment in the Headquarters company did I do anything that my out-of-the-army experiences qualified me for. Since I had graduated in accounting at UT, my post in the finance section of that army company was something that I could actually do.

   I don't think, in all the time I was in the Army Reserve, that I worried about actually having to serve in a wartime situation. It was about putting in my time and then getting on with my real life. My eight year commitment was reduced to six under a new law, and my active duty time was reduced from two years to six months, and then forgotten altogether. Except for the two week summer camp, I never had to serve on active duty. If the Berlin Wall crises had not come along in 1961, when they extended everyone's time of service until the situation stabilized, I would have gotten out in 1961, having not done very much for my country in this regard.

   I guess that is why, when they have programs like Memorial Day or Fourth of July, and they ask all those who have served in our military to stand, I am reluctant to put myself alongside those who have actually been in harms way. When I read of veterans of D Day or Pearl Harbor and what they went through, as well as those of Korea, Vietnam or the middle east, I know I have done nothing much at all, but play at it.

   We, as citizens of this great land, owe a tremendous amount of gratitude to all those who have served on the battle lines of the world. Those who have returned home to stand and be honored at parades and ceremonies on special days, and those who have give their all for us, are each and every one, deserving heroes.

   If anyone ever asks me what I did, I'll have to refer back to the lines of John Milton, when he writes in his sonnet:

   "They also serve who only stand and wait.”

   I know everyone who serves is important, a cog in a big machine that helps it all to run, but my thankfulness is especially given to those men and women who put their lives on the line for all of the rest of us.

   God Bless Each and Every One, no matter how or where they serve.

 

One Thing that God Wants

   There has been a line, spoken by our President, that has been used by the opposing party to put him down in ads and articles for this election cycle. He said in a speech not too long ago that "you did not build it", referring to the role of government to put the things in place so that a person could succeed in his endeavors.

   Regardless of the emphasis of the speech, the words are true, but perhaps not in the context that they were used and given.

   I thought about this as I looked at Psalm 16. In verse 6, David writes:

   "My choice is you, God, first and only.
    And now I find I’m your choice!
   You set me up with a house and yard.
    And then you made me your heir!"

   What is the source of any success of any man?

   Is it what I have done that blesses me with what I am today?

   No, it is not my efforts, it is not my education, my hard work, not even my government, that places me in the spot that I occupy, it is only God Himself that has ordained it. All that I have, all that I can do and all the opportunities that come my way are a gift of His.

   I can question why it is that God has put me in this place, at this time, and with these sets of circumstances, and maybe that will help me to see my role in His story, but is it worthwhile to dwell in the realm of that question?

   My gratitude for all of this is a proper position to take, and I take it gladly, but the one thing that God wants from me this morning, and wants me to live my life in accordance with, seems to me to be a bowing of my knee to Him and telling Him that I realize it is not me that comprises the main story line here, it is Him.

   God, help me to live in such a way, that my words and actions point to Your goodness and love.

   "You have set me up....... You made me"

  I am blessed.

Thanks Be to God

   There is a verse, right at the end of today's reading in Psalms 18, where David is speaking to God and says:

   "The Lord dealt with me according to my righteousness;
according to the cleanness of my hands he rewarded me."
   Those words can be either a comfort or a fright, depending on how you feel about your status with God. Two questions come to mind on this:

   1. Do I want God to deal with me on the basis of my righteousness?

   2. What is the basis of this right living?

   The first leads me to examine my life, deeds, words and thoughts and to see how they measure up to the standards of God. This spotlight invariably shows how bad I really am. The focus becomes clear as I step on the scale of God's moral judgment and find that I don't even register. My hands are not even close to being clean.

   The Bible says in Romans 3:10:

   “There is no one righteous, not even one,"

   I guess that "no one" includes even me with all my good deeds and thoughts.

   I have heard it explained like this. When God looks down at my life, He either sees me in all my sin or He sees Jesus and His shed blood that covers me. Without Jesus in my life the only words that I can utter are:

   "Woe is Me"

   Thank You God, for seeing Jesus and not me when you look this way.

 

Who Gives Me My Identity?

   It is easy for me to get caught up in the way other people perceive me and my role, especially in the church, but it can be anywhere. I know it is not right, but I often live in such a way that their (whoever "they" are) ideas of my status in any community will not be diminished.

   Let's take church for an example. I want to be seen doing the right things, with the right attitude, and the right countenance on my face, so that I might appear right in their eyes. I can easily fall into the habit of thinking that, since I do all of this, and do it in the right way, God will give me favor (and others will, too).

   Now this does not happen all the time for sure. I want to be in God's will and doing the things he wants and shows to me. I want to serve and show my pleasure in doing so. I just do not want to fall into the trap of putting all my stock in what others think of me because of all that.

   This came to my mind this morning as I sat in a church meeting where the pastor was explaining a new concept. As he talked about how it might work in our church, he made the comment that he would like for all the church leaders to participate in this. I had to think, "do I really want to do this?"" Would it be just for show?" "What would people think, and people would include the other leaders also, if I did not go along?"

   Then I read in Psalms 119:

   "Blessed are those who keep his testimonies,
who seek him with their whole heart,"

   And I think about what Jesus said about men who did things for show and how the people praised them; that would be their reward, just the praise of man and not of God.

   Then came the other reading, the Gospel one in Luke 9:

   "And he called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal."

   And also in that same chapter:

   "And they departed and went through the villages, preaching the gospel and healing everywhere."

   Remember that Judas was also included in these twelve men. He heard the words of Jesus, he obeyed the call to go, he saw the miracles, but he still turned and betrayed. He was a part of all that had gone on, but something else got in the way of a full commitment. 

   I want my commitment to be complete, in line with what God shows me. I want to do it for all the right reasons, but I still struggle with the opinions of others.

God knows that I need His help, and so I will ask for it.

AGAIN

A Voice from the Past

   On our journey home this past Sunday from Chattanooga, we made a few stops, going to smaller towns along our route, to take pictures of some of the older courthouses that grace the downtowns of these Georgia county seats. As an example this is the county courthouse in Forsythe, GA, the county seat of Monroe County:

 

   On the grounds of these buildings, there is the inevitable statute of a soldier from the era of the Civil War.

 

   And engraved on some of the monuments are sentiments that depict the attitude of Southerners even years after the conflict. This one is in Dodge Country, GA:

 

   The writing in this shot is kinda hard to read, but it is this:

   "No Nation rose so Pure and White;
     None fell so Spotless"

   Think on those lines for a while...

   The monument with this quote was dedicated in 1910, 45 years after the end of this conflict. Right or wrong, it is still the attitude of a lot of people in the South today.

   If the United States of America ever falls and monuments are erected to her, what will those epitaphs say about her?

Traveling Encounters and...

   As I walked this morning, I thought about people. Not just people in general, but ones that we had interacted with on our travels over the past few days.

   There was the 93 year old lady that we visited with in Chattanooga. She has always been an active individual, but now lies in a hospital bed trying to recover from a broken hip, and an operation that did not seem to go so well. It was painful for us to watch her grimace as she tried to even shift her position in the wheel chair. So I prayed for her as I walked.

   There was the couple that we visited yesterday on our way back home. They are recently married and wear their happiness on their sleeves for all to see. It was great to visit in their home and to hear them talk about their new life together, but it was also sad to hear of health problems and family relationship problems that concern them deeply. So, I prayed for them also in all of this.

 

   Then there was the time spent with my brother and his wife as they were in Chattanooga at the same time we were. They live in Louisville, so we don't get to visit with them very often. Bill and I even got in some sets of tennis, and I was humbled by my inability to keep up with him on the courts. So I prayed for them and their family, and all their activities, and our relationship as brothers.

   Then I thought of how all these experiences could reflect on any of the readings of this morning. Was there any connection at all, or just musings on my part during a walk?

   As I completed my jaunt and got back to the condo gate, I looked down the street and saw a man coming my way. Recognizing him, I walked on up the street a few yards and met him as he came. I used to play tennis with him, but now his health problems don't let him do that any more. He not only has knee problems, but heart problems, and breathing problems. We chatted for a few minutes, and when he walked on, I prayed for him, and also thanked God that He had prompted me to not rush home, but stop and talk.

   It occurred to me, as I sat back down to write, that all of the Bible, and the readings that come up on my computer screen each day, are about relationships. Relationships of God and man, and those same contacts between man and man. Scripture is His Story, and the story of His dealings with man.

   My life is also about these same things. The relationships with others, both close to me, and even chance encounters, are important. They also help to define who I am.

   Thank you God, for reminding me of others this morning and giving me the privilege of both interacting with them and interacting with You on their behalf.

   Now to put in some work on my tennis game. That could use some prayer as well.

War and Me

   What is it about war that is so fascinating to me?

   When you grow up in Chattanooga, as I did, you are surrounded by reminders of the civil war. Even in the daily acts of life, I could look around me and see the fields of war. We lived at the eastern foot of Missionary Ridge. When we travelled to town, our views were of Lookout Mountain. When I trained for and ran my one marathon, I was running through Chickamauga battlefield.

   There were monuments, signs and cannons scattered all over these places where the Union and Confederate forces fought and died in America's great conflict.

   Yesterday, while Mayre was out with a friend, I took some time to visit parts of Missionary Ridge where the Union forces under Grant and Sherman routed the Confederates under Bragg. This battle was the beginning of the end for the South and opened the way for Sherman to move on to Atlanta and Savannah, effectively cutting the Rebel territory up and destroying its capacity to make war.

   As I walked up a small hill at the north end of the Ridge, I looked up and saw the cannons at the crest. I read the signs that were posted about this portion of the battle, and the units of men that fought on both sides. I stood and wondered about the men that had to charge up this hill into the mouths of those guns, and the men that waited to shoot them down as they came. What were their emotions? How did they make themselves do all of this?

 

   I also wondered about my fascinations with all of this. Why did I choose history as my field of study? Why do I read so much of men and wars, especially this one? Was it because I never had to fight in one? Was I trying to vicariously to feel what it is like?

   I stand and look at those cannon facing down the hill toward me and not only wonder about those men that charged upward, but I wonder how I would have fared in that situation. Would I have the courage to go and maybe die?

   I read in the Psalms today these words:

   "Blessed be the Lord, my rock,
who trains my hands for war,
and my fingers for battle;"
   I realize that war has always been a part of this world, and I am thankful that I have never had to be a part of one, but I am thankful also for the men and women that have fought and died that I might live in the peace that is mine right now.

   But the question still lingers, "how would I have done?"

Waiting on "Waiting"

   What am I waiting for?

   Somehow, when I woke up this morning, I had the sense that God wanted to talk to me about waiting. I looked for references to this as I read through the Psalm reading, and also the one from Luke, chapter 8.

   Then I thought it might be odd to be sitting here waiting for "waiting". What was it about all of this that I needed to hear and think about today.

   Now I am not too good at waiting for something. Even when I am forced to sit and wait for someone, or for something to happen, or for something to begin or end, I find something else to do. I might carry a book with me to read, so as to not just be sitting there like a log. Time is not to be wasted, I say, and so I try to make something out of that situation. If I can only get about my day, I can be productive in some way, but just sitting here in limbo, now surely that does not do anything for me or anyone else.

   In the reading from Psalm 140, David writes of what is going on in his life:

   "Deliver me, O Lord, from evil men;
preserve me from violent men,"
   He is waiting for deliverance, but as he does, there is a confidence:

   "I know that the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted,
and will execute justice for the needy. Surely the righteous shall give thanks to your name;
the upright shall dwell in your presence."

   David may not be waiting patiently, but he remains sure of the outcome:

   In the reading from Luke, the last verse in the parable of the sower and seed is:

   "As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience."

   Perhaps it is not just the why I wait, but how I wait, that matters. After all, while I sat here this morning, waiting on "waiting", there was a message for me, now let's see how that plays out in my life today.

   I'm waiting......

   

The Word for This Morning Is...

   This morning we are in Chattanooga, and, as usually happens when we travel, the mornings get kinda hectic. There are things to find in the car, there are questions as to what we will do today, where we will go, who can we see, and, in short, what is the schedule?

   When I finally sat down after breakfast to study a few minutes, I opened the computer, after getting the correct Internet password, and looked up the Examen.me website to get the Psalm and Gospel readings for today. The first item on the agenda for this study is an encouragement to just take a few moments to sit and pray for insight into what will be presented.

   So, I wrote out a small prayer, just to get my mind in the proper spot. My request was for a calming of the spirit, releasing all the questions of what the day should look like, and a few minutes alone with whatever God would like to say to me. (I don't say that I always hear, but I want to be available and in the proper frame of mind, just to make it possible.)

  So the Psalm 131 reading for today is:

   "Lord, my heart is not proud;
    my eyes are not haughty.
I don’t concern myself with matters too great
    or too awesome for me to grasp.
² Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself,
    like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother’s milk."
   There is that word calm again.

   My mind can get so wrapped up in what has gone on, or what is now happening, or what could or should be the offing for today, that I shut out any hope of hearing another voice, regardless of its importance to my life.

   So, my heart is thankful this morning for a few moments of calm, and its reminder of what is necessary to my life this day.