Questions and Answers and Liking Neither

   Matthew 5, verse 7 (The Message):

“You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for."

   Same verse (New KIng James Version):

"Blessed are the merciful,
    For they shall obtain mercy."
   And the same haunting question: Do I, really? Really care about people?

   It is so easy to talk about St. Francis and how he did care about people, and to write about what that looked like, but when I sit in the quiet morning, when I think about what my day's activities look like, I know the question of caring is a very real one.

   Is it a heart issue? Do the acts of caring flow out of a heart that cares? Is it simply putting others first in my life and acting that way toward them?

   The implication of those words of Jesus above is care, do it! But, how do I work up a feeling of true caring? Can I just summon up a will to care, or what? Do I care about caring?

   I know I want to be a person who is caring. I want to be known. as a man that does, but most of all I want to look inside and see a heart that is true to this.

   So I pray for help. A selfish heart struggles with the concept and the answers to all these questions.

   When I reach the end of this day, can I lay my head on the pillow and see any evidence?

   Did I truly care about someone today? Anyone? or just me?

   Jesus says CARE

   With His help, I will....

God Can Speak Here, Too

   I am not trying to project myself too far into the future, but just going through Matthew 5,6 and 7 at a slow, verse by verse, pace and seeing how it all plays out on a day by day basis. I sense that there are many things in here that call me to a new level of following Jesus, even questioning whether I am actually following Him at all. A scary prospect for sure.

   In Matthew 5, moving down to verse 6, as translated in The Message:

“You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat."

   And also in the New King James Version:

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

    For they shall be filled."

   What put me on this whole trail is the rereading of Chasing Francis, a modern day chronicle of a man, disillusioned by "doing church" and wanting more. His pilgrimage into the life and times of St. Francis of Assisi, brings to light a new look at the Sermon on the Mount, and it is that journey that I am trying to understand. 

   In the evangelical protestant world, old saints in the Roman Catholic Church don't generate a lot of respect or publicity, and, if the Peace Prayer had not been attributed to Francis, we may not even know his name.

   But there is much to be admired in the life of this old saint. From the passages quoted in this fictional book, it is said that Francis took the Sermon on the Mount and tried to live it out as it was written, not attempting to put a modern (for him modern was 13th century) spin on the words. He attempted, not to just teach the Sermon, but live it out in front of his world, hence his words:

   "Preach the Gospel always, and if necessary use words"

   Sure St. Francis has some odd ways, like the stories of him preaching to the birds and animals, but maybe they are odd in our 21st century eyes, or maybe they are just stories, but throwing out a whole life seems a great injustice. There is just too much good stuff in his life and writings.

   So I read this fiction book, and I try to see where the author is heading, and I try to square it up with what the Bible says, and I see where God can use it to speak to us moderns.

   What does all of this come in with the study of Matthew 5:6? 

   What I read, what I look at, where I put myself are all ways to feed My appetite for God.

   There are 2,000 years of Christians, their traditions, and their writings. God can use any of these to speak to me His words of Truth.

   Even in a work of pure fiction.

The Two Sides of Contentment

   I am trying to get my mind around "contentment" this morning, specifically what might be good about it and what could be damaging to my soul.

   Matthew 5:5, in The Message:

“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought."

   Matthew 5:5, in the New King James Version:

"Blessed are the meek,
    For they shall inherit the earth."

   The part that strikes me this morning and how I relate to it (my translation):

   Be content in who you are, find out how to be the satisfied owner of all God wants for you.

   Maybe I should relate it to Solomon's words in Ecclesiastes where he talks about "a time for each thing under the sun".

   There is a time to be content in your standing and a time not to be. The trick is to know which is which for me. Basically it is being content when I am where God wants me to be, and I know how to live in that attitude, not grabbing for more of stuff or position.

   But I do not want to be content if I am not where God is. I want to be satisfied in the spot He has me, and know that where that is, is right.

   It all sounds so easy, sitting back with a big smile on my face and being satisfied, but, alas, not if it is because of what I have done, or have, but only when I know God and His will and am there in it.

   Could it be where both God and I are content, at the same time?

   Like this:

 

How Do I Respond?

   I thought of that South Korean ferry this morning, of those families who lost high schoolers in that accident, and how they must grieve. For some it might have been that the one lost was their only child, for a few that child might have been their only loved one. How would I have felt? How would I have coped? Despair, anger, resignation, bitterness? I 'm sure those involved must have gone through them all in the days following.

   It must have been the same with the Malaysian airliner, the one they still have not found.

   We lose all kinds of things in this life; health, wealth, jobs, and all sorts of tangible items, but the worst loss is in the area of people and relationships.

   What of that next verse in Matthew 5, verse 4, in The Message:

“You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you."

   Or in the New King James Version, a more familiar translation:

"Blessed are those who mourn,
    For they shall be comforted."

   When I read these words, and try to put myself into this situation, what I see is people, especially family.

   I don't want to lose anyone of these or any of my friends either, but the facts of life tell me that it does and will happen. Illness, estrangement, conflict, and death can take or pull them away. The fact that it happens does not take away the sting.

   But Blessed? That is what Jesus tells His followers on the mountainside in Galilee 2,000 years ago, and what He speaks to us today.

   When friends turn against us, or desert us...

   When illness or death takes one of ours away...

   How are we blessed?

   By turning to the One who cares the most and who has it all under control.

   I know that it is easy to sit here and write those words, especially if I am not living through the trauma of loss right now, but that does not make them less true, and these things will come in a fallen world.

   How I act in the midst of them is the key.

   God help me to remember and trust.

When I Cannot....

   Verse 3 of Matthew 5 is translated like this in The Message:

“You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule."

   It may be more familiar in another translation like the NKJV:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    For theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

   When the storms of life are all around, I show my true colors in who or whom or what I turn to. Jesus tells those ones in His presence where their true blessing will come from and how.

   It will not come from friends, from family, from those influential people that I think can help. It will not come from the wealth in my account, or the things that I own. It will not come from how good I am or think I am.

   This all reminds me of the story of the man who was clinging to the end of his available rope. He was dangling from the side of the cliff in the dark. There was no more rope and his feet were swinging free, not able to find a hold in the rock. A voice from above told him to let go, but he did not know the voice. He struggled and questioned, but finally came to the point where his own strength was gone and he had to let go, only to find that his feet were 6 inches above the ground. He was at the end of his own rope, and all that was left was to resign himself to what the voice commanded.

   I will try anything and everything in my power to make a bad situation better or right, but my distance perception is so very limited. God knows and cares. The result will be good in His eyes, and in ours too, if we trust and look for Him in the whole thing.

"Our Father in heaven,
Hallowed be Your name.
¹⁰ Your kingdom come.
Your will be done"

   Your will be done, not a prayer of resignation, but of trust.

   My family will tell anyone that one of my favorite sayings is "It will all work out", and indeed it will, in some way, with some result.

   I am blessed when I cease to struggle and turn it all over to Him.

   He is sufficient and He cares...

St. Francis and Me

   I have been reading again, Chasing Francis, by Ian Cron, a book of one man's journey into the land and life of St. Francis of Assisi. Written for our contemporary time, it has been a challenge for me to look at my life and see how much it differs from the calling of this saint from the 13th century. The principles that God gives him to live out are surely applicable to my life today, but they sure seem radical in our American culture.

   This fictional story is not about St. Francis per se, it is looking at this monk through the eyes of a 21st century evangelical pastor, and the crises of faith that ensues. It is this that drew my interest, and thus I read.

   A strong section of the book is about how St. Francis is led by God to live out the sayings of Jesus as recorded in the Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew 5,6 and 7. 

   I have heard these verses, especially from the 5th Chapter, as they are listed as the Beatitudes, but I have never studied them in any sort of deep way. So I began this morning reading these 3 chapters in their entirety, before settling down to look at the words verse by verse.

   I have used and heard this prayer for decades, but never looked at it very hard:

Prayer of St Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen

   Most of Francis' vocation and calling are put out here in these words, words that are echos of those in those 3 chapters of Matthew's Gospel.

   What a challenge for my life. I know I can be blessed by looking at these verses through the eyes of St. Francis and even through the lens of the 21st century pastor. Even if he is a fiction character, he is not divorced from my time or my life.

   Looking at verses 1 and 2 of chapter 5, I want to begin my study in the way the disciples, and perhaps other committed followers, began to hear the same words, as St. Francis did. St. Francis, of course did not have The Message, indeed he may have had only the Latin text, but here is the contemporary version:

"When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down and taught his climbing companions."

   Committed followers climbed with Jesus as he separated Himself from the masses.

   Jesus chose a quiet place, away from the distractions of the world, and then He taught.

   Oh, to be that committed and to have that quiet place to sit and to listen. That is the way I want to approach each session with these verses. Listening for God's voice.

   Listening will have its reward, but it will also have its responsibilities. Am I ready?

The Morning After

   The picture on the front page of the Brunswick News this morning showed part of the crowd who  gathered Easter Sunday morning, yesterday, for the sunrise service.

   Now the day was not like my picture from a few months back. First of all there was no sunrise yesterday that could be seen here. Sure, the sun did come up, but our sky was filled with grey clouds resulting in a misty rain at times. Not a suitable day for the service, perhaps, but the people were there anyway.

   I thought this morning of all the folks who, not only got up early to go to the pier area yesterday, but who filled other places of worship, celebrating the events of that Resurrection morning years ago. Easter is a day like no other in the Christian calendar, and all manner of people make it a point to be in church on that day, even if they don't go regularly.

   Our church was packed for both services with over a 1,000 people in each one, and others, not able to find a seat in the sanctuary, were scattered around the periphery, watching on closed circuit TV. I'm sure other churches saw the same thing.

   What was it like this morning for all those that worshipped yesterday, on that most holy of Holy Days? I'm sure those lives ran the gamut from deep piety to ho hum, just another day. I hope there had been more of the former than the latter, but then I think about my own reaction to the Day.

   Knowing that it is so easy to get caught up in all the stuff that goes on before Easter, I determined that I would spend more time this year in just thinking and meditating on the events that transpired in Jesus and the disciples lives in the days preceding Easter. I thought that I could guard that Day and make it special for worship and praise.

   I needed to be at church early Sunday morning. We were using a new system for coffee, and I needed to learn what to do so to be able to take care of it in the weeks following. I also needed to count offerings and make the deposit in the night depository. With much help I managed to get the coffee ready, and take care of the money in a timely manner. I did manage to hear some of the music and part of the sermon, although that viewing took place on a TV out in the atrium, not in the sanctuary itself. It was good but not like being in the same room with 1000 others in worship.

   Thinking back, it seemed that the "tyranny of the urgent" took precedence in those hours. In my morning after, I could be glad that I had spent the time in the days before Easter to focus some on the meaning and importance of that early time in history, but I really wanted to look back on Sunday worship as being special for me.

   I know that God used all the services around the world for His glory and that many people were touched by Him with the message of Easter.

   What of the morning after for those man and women in Jerusalem, long ago, and what about us today?

   Easter is not just another day....was it this time around?

Saturday. What Kind of A Day?

   Saturday, a day stuck between the events of Crucifixion and the Resurrection, a 24 hour period that Jesus' disciples lived through. What was it for them?

   They only knew what had happened on the yesterday, they could not know of what would happen the next day. What were they thinking, what did they feel?

   They had seen their leader, the one they had followed for 3 years, cruelly killed on that Roman cross. They must have been despondent, fearful of the authorities, and of their future.

   Were they together as a group or in hiding individually?

   How could they function in the days ahead?

   This whole conjecture reminds me of a photograph I took a few weeks back. Over in middle Georgia, I had gotten up early to catch a sunrise, walked out the back door of the motel and looked east. They sky was beginning to color up, and I walked away from the civilization of the area toward an open field across the road.

   The sky was showing the beginnings of an orange sunrise, but smack in the middle of that field was an old chimney, no doubt from a house that had once stood on that property. Just an abandoned homestead that had once been a place called "home" to some people.

   Would the disciples of Jesus seen the glory of that new day, or would their eyes and hearts have been focused on the sad and lonely pile of bricks? How could they go on? Indeed, why would they?

   Jesus had told them what was going to happen, but their minds could not comprehend His words. Now the whole world had collapsed around them, and all they had were broken dreams and memories, a stack of used brick.

   Were they angry? At Judas? At the Romans and their own leaders? At themselves for believing in a rabbi that had promised a new kingdom, for them and the Jewish nation?

   They had Friday, and they were experiencing Saturday, but they did not know that Sunday was coming.

   What a day that would be, not just for eleven men in Jerusalem, but for the world.

   Thanks be to God...

   For Friday, Saturday and for Sunday

 

Is This a Chocolate Week?

   I have been conflicted ever since I wrote that "smiling" blog post yesterday. Yes it was the way I felt, but it seemed flippant, even sacrilegious, to be writing of a sense of joy when it was the middle of Holy Week. I was confused. Were my feelings totally out of whack with the solemness of the occasion?

   Today is Maundy Thursday on the Christian calendar. I read about the events of that Passover this morning. I read about the disciples and how they must have been confused as the events unfolded that week. From the giddiness of the Palm Sunday entry to the agony of the Cross. What an up and down week for them.

   How could I have ever written that yesterday? It seemed so out of sync with other things that I read. Even right now there is music playing in the background as I write. I discovered a blog that I read in its entirety, all about this week, and one family's ways of observance. It is here for referral:

http://www.aholyexperience.com/

   And I think back to my feelings of yesterday. I felt good and I wanted to keep that feeling. I'll bet the disciples did, too.

   Sure we can have joy over the Resurrection. Jesus died for us and He rose again so that we also might live, truly live, if we believe. Easter is a glorious Day. It is a Day for celebration.

   But the days of Holy Week, those leading up to Easter Sunday, are filled with occasions that are not so giddy. Maundy Thursday, Friday on the Cross, Saturday in the Tomb, these are troubling times.

   Is this why I want to go right from one Sunday to the next, from Triumph right to Celebration and skip the hard part? The essential part?

   Is this the reason I get caught up in the chocolate bunnies and the colored eggs?

   Do I just want to remember the fun of Easter? Are those the only memories I want to leave to my children?

   I rejoice in singing Christ The Lord Is Risen Today, and it does bring me joy as I think of it.

   But before I can glory in that old hymn, I need to reflect on another:

"How Deep The Father's Love For Us"

How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

   No chocolate bunnies here

Is This Even Right?

   An unusual thing happened as I began my quiet time this morning, and I share it hesitantly because I do not even know if it is a good thing or not. But it was real.

   It starts off as a prayer, and it proceeds from there:


Father God Jesus Holy Spirit,
   I am sitting here in this quiet morning with a smile on my face. Why? I don't know, maybe just the joy of being quiet in a warm spot on a cold day, and windy, too. The world seems OK. Is this the way You want me to be or to be solemn and concerned about other people and about the situation in the world?
   I don't know but it feels kinda giddy and that is not solemn at all. Is this a prayer? I sorta doubt it, but it could be one of thanks for a morning that is here and now, and is somewhat different from most.
   Sure, I walked in the previous hour and the birds were singing, or maybe talking to each other, the houses were dark and quiet for the most part, the air brisk, all of the little streamers on the oaks had fallen on the path during the rain of the previous day, and the concrete was treaded with silent steps.
   No other people inhabited this world, no one to speak to or stop to talk with, just the wind and the birds and the yellow sky with clouds in the east.
   But why should all of this make me happy and smile?
   Can I analyze my life and my moods? Do I need to or just enjoy this one for awhile?
   Will all these thoughts seem frivolous by day's end, or will these facial expressions still be around?
   Can I analyze what makes the difference, how the day pans out or should I just write and enjoy and take it for as long as it lasts.
   There are many questions, but are they important anyway? Is it just enough to experience it?
   Reading over what I have written makes me smile again. I can feel the corners of my mouth turn up involuntarily and I still wonder why. Why me? Why now? Does it portend something for today or is it just now?
   It seems counter productive to be sitting here just smiling and writing about it. I see notes to myself of things to do, but I smile and write. I think of the hours of the coming day, but still smile in the now.         
   Why?
   I can see that I am writing this on a website that is filled with Bible verses that I have not even looked at, and I have used the form on the site, one for prayers to begin my quiet time. Is this even right?
   Then my mind says "Don't be so serious, this is a time to smile without knowing why. Enjoy it."
   What would people say?
   Have I lost touch with reality?
   Somehow, I have a hard time caring?

   Hot Dog, I think of a verse from Psalm 30.

"Tears may flow in the night,
    but joy comes in the morning."

   Is this God's time or mine?

   I sincerely pray that it is both.

   I can't wait to see how this day works out.

   Perhaps the Sanctuary, or maybe the funny farm.

I Want To See

   A thought from the Gospel reading for this morning, related to Jesus' disciple Thomas. Yes Thomas, who said to the other disciples after the Resurrection: (John 20)

"Now Thomas (called Didymus), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he replied, “Unless I see the wounds from the nails in his hands, and put my finger into the wounds from the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will never believe it!”

   This same Thomas had asked Jesus a question earlier in Jesus' ministry:

"Thomas said, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 

   Thomas wanted to see. We all do, see with our own eyes and understand what it is all about.

   Yesterday I wanted to see if I could get a picture of an osprey on her nest, or maybe just the baby bird waiting for the mother to bring food back. I had seen a nest when I was out the other morning at sunrise, so I went back to that spot. Here is what I saw through my zoom lens set at the maximum 200mm.

   There are several problems in getting a shot of a bird family like the osprey. The nests are high off the ground, and to be able to see into the nest you have to have a high perch to shoot from or you have to get pretty far away. I don't climb trees well these days, and my only lens with me was the 200, so I had to bring the image back in my camera and put it on the computer to determine what might be there.

   It did not make a good shot because of the way I had to crop it down so far, but here it is:

   For one thing, it did not look like an osprey. I had questioned that fact from the way that there was no adult osprey near by. Usually either the mother or father is close, and if danger is near, they fly around and screech. There was no activity or any noise there.

   I determined that it must be a baby owl, seen in the middle of the nest. I had seen owls take over an osprey nest before, in fact, I had noticed an older osprey nest on the golf course where the same thing was taking place.

   The second nest from a distance. The nest is middle frame to the right.

   The second nest with the shot cropped. I even saw an adult great horned owl in a tree across the fairway, keeping watch over this baby owlet, but also keeping quiet.

   How does all of this relate to Thomas? Well, I could have heard about the owls, I could have gone and seen the nest, but until I found a way to get closer, I could not believe what was true about the whole situation.

   It is equally true in life. If I want to truly see, I must be willing to put myself in a position to be closer to what I am seeking. Keeping my eyes and ears open in the places that God places me, is a first step. Placing my feet closer, not farther away, is mighty important too.

"But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness,"

 

Sometimes You Can Never Tell

   After I went to church to plug in the coffee pots for the java people coming to the services this morning, and in driving back home as the sun was about to come up, I had an idea.

   I had found a spot over on the other side of the golf course where a tidal creek flowed out of the marsh and into a lake that bordered the 18th hole. Not knowing how much water would be in the creek (I had not looked up the tide charts for 7AM), I went by there, thinking that it might be a good shot.

   I was not surprised by the scene, the color in the sky or the color blending into the water of the creek, but I was taken back when I got back home and put the raw files into the computer. Here is the progression:

        The first image, the raw file without any post production

       The second with a little bit of work and cropping

   The third to get a shot of color

   But then I saw something else, the grasses in the foreground and their reflections in the water of the creek, and that path led to this:

   Sometimes you just never can tell where a path will lead. I read a blog post by my daughter today concerning paths and what following them can mean:

http://uniontrueheart.blogspot.com/

   I thought of all those people who walked into the doors of a church this morning. What sort of path led them there, and what did walking that mean in their lives? Where did that path lead as they left the service? How about my journey?

   Just like the progression in the pictures above, I would never have seen that last shot if I had not followed a path to see it up close and personal.

   And I am always glad to ask the question: What does God want me to see tomorrow?

   Sometimes, you never can tell what and who might be there.

Danger and Doubt

   This morning my time is unhindered by appointments and there is the luxury, maybe even the danger, in having time for rabbit trails through the grasses of the internet. One of the Bible readings for this day comes from Matthew 28 which reads:

"But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay."

   Yes, the Resurrection Story, the Miracle of Easter.

   I thought about an older church that we had seen the other day in downtown Warrenton, GA. The First United Methodist Church.

   I wonder now as I sit here and look at the picture, how many people have sat there in years past, in the many Easter celebrations that have taken place in its sanctuary. How many people have rejoiced at the truths of that Day?

   But, I think also, of another group of people who have attended over the years, and will no doubt be there, 9 days from now. There will be folks who believe, but have been there so many times, that it is old hat and does not inspire anymore. There may also be those who go because it is a day to do so, but there is no belief there at all. There may be honest doubt, but there will also be a "let's get it over with" attitude with some.

   I read a piece this morning from the pen of Rachel Held Evans, a piece entitled "Holy Week for Doubters" which gives a slant on one side of an "Easter visitor". It is a good read for thought if anyone has time.

http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/holy-week-for-doubters

   No doubt there will be all kinds of folks in that old church in Middle Georgia next weekend, as there will be in ours, but I wonder, deep down in my heart and soul, on that day, will it be new again, or "old hat"?

   I remember an evening communion service in our church a few years back, a time when I sat in the quiet, listening, not able to sing at all, as a relatively new hymn's words washed over me. The magnitude of God's love and sacrifice made real in that Good Friday moment.

   That is what I pray for the folks up there in Warrenton and all people who gather to celebrate the truth of the Resurrection on Easter.

   There may be danger and doubt sitting there in the pews also, but God is able to get through all of that and wash us clean again.

Seasons

   I like Spring. Although I do not like the bugs that come with it, I do like the new colors, the new feel of the sun, the opportunities of the longer days and just the change from Winter's cold.

   And I do like to get these bright colors in some pictures.

   But I am reminded of more this morning. There are seasons in life as well as in nature, and each of us is living in one right now.

   How do I approach the seasons of my life? With anticipation like the colors of Spring, with dread like the storms of Winter, or just with an attitude of "what will be will be"?

   Just as God gives the seasons of nature, He also gives me my life seasons to live in. He gives opportunities for growth, for service, for relationships, sometimes all three together, and, regardless of the particular season, those opportunities are there.

   With opportunity comes responsibility, to see and to act in accordance of what He shows me to do, and in the way that brings glory to Him and help to others. I think of a verse:

   Proverbs 3:6:

"In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He will make your paths straight."

   In all seasons, in all situations.

   He ordains and He will guide.

   My responsibility: To Listen and Do,

   In spite of the Gnats of life.

 

A Blessed Day

   One of the primary reasons for a trip to VA this time of the year was a special occasion for our youngest grand daughter. She had been through all the questions and meetings with the elders of her church and was to be presented to the congregation this morning as an official member and ready to take her first communion. We had been here for the other 2 VA kids and this would be no. 3.

   This post is not to laud one of ours over all the others. It is not to say she is the best of even the VA crew (we lovingly call a circus), but it was her day, and she shined as she answered the pastor's questions on stage and then showed her maturity as she sang and read and listened to the message. It was a joy for her "papa" to sit next to her  and observe as her voice rang out on the hymns, and she followed along in her Bible as the pastor spoke on I Corinthians 4.

   A perfect 9 year old, no way. Mischievous, playful, athletic, dramatic, and affectionate, she runs the gamut of girlish actions and moods, but she has that ready smile and is fun to be around.

   Here's to Lucy. I look forward to watching her grow in body, soul and spirit. She might break a lot of hearts along the way, but it won't be malicious, just her.

   My favorite shot of her from last summer.

   Lucy today.

   Granny Lou and Papa thank God for her, and all our great kids.

   We are Blessed, for sure....

Time and Time and Time Again

   Ofttimes traveling and posting do not go well together, so, after a few days in the car, and as I sit down in a relatively quiet house, before all the grandkids rise, a subject, not of profound importance in my day, comes to mind.

   Since, in traveling the state of Georgia, several county courthouses come into view, and several of these are worthy of photography, especially the older historic ones, I did and now I share to highlight this theme.

   Bulloch County, Statesboro, built in 1894

   Burke County, Waynesboro, built in 1857

   Taliaferro County, Crawfordville, built in 1902

   Oglethorpe County, Lexington, built in 1887

   Elbert County, Elberton, built in 1894

   Out of 10 courthouses visited over the past couple of days, 5 showed the prominent feature of the clock tower. Usually rising over the entire town, it was the prominent landmark for miles around.

   All of these seats of county government remain in use today. All have been restored over the years, but all still serve their people.

   Time marches on, but these buildings seem to say "Slow down and live". I walk into the lobbies and there is no hustle and bustle and people standing in long lines to transact business. Mostly it was just Mayre and I in a deserted spot. Not a bad way to spend some quality time.

   And one more amazing thing, all the clocks in those towers were keeping good time, and all four sides of the clock tower told the same hour and, most times, the same minute.

   These old clocks not only say "slow down" but they also whisper "stay and visit awhile"

   So we do, and that is good use of our time, and time, and time again.

What Plans Lie Here?

   Mayre and I have been caught up in the "planning mode" these past few days. Plans for this week, plans for the Fall, and just plans in general..

   Not included in our planning was a spur of the moment trip last evening to look at some of the flowers that are blooming right now all over our island. We found more than just a colorful array of blooms.

   Situated across the street from the azalea covered Wesley Gardens is an historic church, Christ Church Episcopal..

   And the grounds behind that church contains a cemetery that has been in use for at least a couple of hundred years.

   The light was fast fading, but as I walked among the graves and got a few pictures of the setting, I thought about those folks who were buried there.

   What were the plans for those? What were their hopes and dreams?

   Dr. Robert Grant, born in Scotland in 1762, died at 81 here on St. Simons. Did he have more plans for his life?

   Hamilton Couper, died in his prime at Manassas in 1861. He had plans, I am sure, and his parents must have had dreams for him as well.

   A child who only lived one day in 1941. How his parents must have grieved for "what might have been".

   This morning I am brought full circle from that land of dreams that were cut short, back to the present. What about the plans that we make? Are we so caught up in those that we forget to live in the present and so miss what God has for us in these days?

   Am I apt to put so much store in what good is going to happen, that I clutch it strongly in my mind's hand, even so much that, if it does not come to pass, it is a tragedy. How much better to hold my plans loosely and trust that God knows better than I what is good.

   I have not ever seen an epitaph like this, but it is fitting:

   "Their Plans Have Changed"