A Word for Christmas 2015

   As I looked through some of the pictures from this past Christmas, one word came to my mind to symbolize this special season:

GENEROSITY

   One of our friends began this whole experience with this fresh gift for our front door:

   Even when the kumquats fell off, it was still great.

   Then a church friend invited us for Christmas breakfast, egg and sausage casserole and home made sticky buns. Yum.

   A new friend and new neighbor next door invited us for dinner that afternoon, a great meal that began with this delicious soup.

   And food that I could not show because all the was left were the empty plates, came from our condo neighbor above us. While we were next door enjoying dinner, they made up plates of delicious food and put them in our refrigerator. We would enjoy Christmas cheer for a couple more days with those.

   God blessed us with great Christmas weather that we enjoyed in short sleeves. I'm sure that those less fortunate celebrated it with even greater gusto. Winter?

   And how about the generosity of the folks in our church, who gave over and above to meet the needs of people in this congregation. It was amazing to tally up that money that we would distribute in the way of paying bills for folks, and helping them take care of their families.

   Yes, in this season of Christmas 2015, God was present in all of the above. The wise men came to see the baby Jesus that first Christmas, but now the manger is empty.

   But God's greatest gift is celebrated in the cross that rises over churches across our world. The cross is also empty, but its occupant still lives and guides Christians everywhere as they honor Him.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

   We just cannot outgive God..

   And I am Thankful...
 

A Ceramic Lesson For Me...

    There seems to come the time before Christmas that we realize we don't really know what gifts to get for our grandchildren. They are growing up so far away from us that shopping for that perfect gift does  not seem an option.

   But we want to give something so that they know that we still love them and want to be involved in their lives. We don't want to be forgotten.

   So we take the easy way out, or, at least, I did this year.

   There are emails from St. Simons to each of the 3 mothers of these 9 kids. They all contain the question:

   "What can we get for your kids this year that they need and will appreciate?"

   The replies come back, either specific items, or they point to a wish list that they have generated on Amazon.com.

   So, from the comfort of my own chair, I go to Amazon and send out 9 gifts, all gift wrapped and personalized with a Christmas greeting, all mailed to a grandson or granddaughter. All delivered on time for opening on that special day.

   The day after Christmas, Saturday, we were preparing to eat breakfast and Granny Lou told me she wanted her coffee in the special mug she had received from one of her granddaughters.

   As I looked at the hand painted mug, I seemed to feel the love that went into that project, and I was ashamed that I had put so little thought into our gifts this year.

   Sure it was easy, and maybe the only way we could get gifts they wanted or needed, but where was  love involved?

   Gifts, like the ones I sent out, can be easily forgotten, and, as the kids grow up, they will be, but I know that every time Granny Lou has her coffee, she will treasure this expression of love. It was "Purrfect". It will be used gently and be a reminder for both of us.

   And I wonder what God feels when we treat the Gift of His Son in an uncaring attitude, when we use Christmas as a season for everything else except gratitude for what He did for us?

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

   God gave, and He gave in love for me and for you.

   That mug is my reminder.

 



 

 

Songs of Christmas?

 

   Last Sunday we sang a song.

   Now, to me, singing is a great part of Christmas. I love the old carols, and they evoke great memories of days gone by. It is the way Christmas ought to be celebrated.

   But, I thought, as we sang this one; "what has this to do with the Holiday?"

   It begins with the words of an older hymn:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus name

   Then comes the refrain:

Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Saviour's love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all

   I woke up with this running through my mind this morning and thought about that refrain again.

   Especially that second line:

Weak made strong; 

   And then I see a connection…No person is more vulnerable, i.e. weaker, than a newborn lying there in a manger.

   Even a King

   And I think; no person is at his strongest until his life is wrapped in those swaddling clothes and his voice can repeat that refrain:

Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Saviour's love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all

   Let's Celebrate…He is Lord,

   Lord of All

   MERRY CHRISTMAS

 

 

I Just Don't Understand...

   "Welcome to the 21st century, Dad."

   Words spoken by my youngest son the other night as we concluded my first ever Skype session over the Internet.

   We had been bemoaning the fact that we could not see all those kids out in California over the Christmas holidays. Doug's family was on sabbatical for a year way out there, and it was just too far for us to go right now. So, knowing that the computer I was using was his old one and that it had the Skype program installed on it, he suggested that we try to hook up that way for a video chat.

   So, we did.

   He could lead me through the right buttons to push, and we ended up watching and listening to that family 3,000 miles away, but I really don't understand how it all happened. I accept that it is possible and actually did happen, but am left wondering how and why it all came about.

   Most every morning for the past couple of weeks, I have read and thought about the Christmas Story as recorded in Luke 2. I have wondered about the people involved, what their lives were like before and after that night with the angels and the star.

   The verse from a Christmas Carol comes to mind:

   I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

   I accept the account from the Gospels and believe that it all happened that way, but I am still left to wonder all of the whys.

   I see those packages under the tree, all wrapped up with tags and bows. I see a package with my name on it, and I wonder what it contains.

   God, out of His love for us, gave us His Christmas Gift 2,000 years ago.

   And in the early morning, out under a dark cloudy sky, I still wonder.

   And I pray that God might break through the clutter and glitter of this Christmas season with a fresh awareness of His goodness and provision for all of us.

   And that all that Wonder would be a prelude to pure Joy.

   And that the Carol that all of us can sing with gusto will be:

   Joy to the world! The Lord is come.
Let earth receive her King
Let every heart
Prepare Him room
And Saints and angels sing
And Saints and angels sing
And Saints and Saints and angels sing

A Quiet Hour on Christmas Day

   The headline on the front page of the Brunswick News this Friday morning, one week before Christmas, stated "A Season to Remember". Now they were speaking of the run of the local football team to the state of Georgia championship game last week, but the words just fit in with my thoughts of  Christmas.

   I made a connection with an old friend on Facebook yesterday. He and his family had been with us in Chattanooga at a church we both attended for many years, a church our kids grew up in, and one that holds many memories for us.

   As I look back through the years to our time there, special Christmas memories flash through my brain, but I stop and focus on one in particular, one that still evokes the true meaning of the Holiday for me.

   When J. Ralph McIntyre was pastor of our church, we used to have a service on Christmas afternoon.

   Now Christmas Day is a busy time, especially for a family with kids, and there are family dinners, presents to be looked into, travel, and just relaxation, things that call loudly for our participation.

   As the church doors were opened in the middle of Christmas Day, people put aside all that had gone on before that hour, and gathered in the sanctuary for a simple service of carols, communion and candles.

   No choir, no sermon, no elaborate program.

   An organ for the congregational singing of familiar carols, the elements of bread and juice served in the quiet, and the lighting of individual candles throughout the pews.

   Quiet time for reflection, a sense of people who wanted to be there, time taken out of a busy day for the purpose of worship.

   A sense of reverent joy in the advent.

   I remember this as I sit today, and I smile.

   Christmas is Special

   May it also be this time around.

   “Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!” 

"Listen to what I say"

   There is a danger in being too simplistic.

   And what I thought of this morning runs that danger.

   But it seems to fit.

   I watched the debate on TV last night, and the one overall impression I got out of it before I got tired and went to bed, was:

   8 men and 1 woman talking at the same time trying to get their point across.

   And this morning I thought of a Christmas carol and the three questions and one command contained in those 4 stanzas.

   "Do you see what I see?"

   "Do you hear what I hear?"

   "Do you know what I know?"

   And lastly:

   "Listen to what I say!"

   The picture that comes to my mind as I think about that debate stage last night was a shot of the moderator trying to ask a question and the many voices in the background calling for attention to be heard. I could make out some of the things said but mostly it was just the sound of 9 voices crying "Listen to what I say!"

   In Luke 2, the Bible gives an account of people speaking and listening. The angels spoke and sang and the shepherds heard. Simeon spoke, and Mary and Joseph heard. Anna spoke, and people listened and heard.

   I think of that E.F. Hutton commercial from years back that showed a room full of noise and all of a sudden one person mentioned the brokerage firm's name, and everyone stopped and listened for what was going to be revealed.

   In Luke 2 God speaks, and we need to stop and listen.

   Maybe we could find a leader who fits verse 52,  one that does not have to shout:

"Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and all the people."

It Happens in the Ordinary

   As I read again the Christmas Story in Luke 2, the extraordinary event of the angels appearing to the shepherds catches my thoughts, and I see anew the wonder and excitement those men must have felt on the night so long ago. How could they ever be the same? Were they?

   They were the very definition of "ordinary people".

   They probably even talked to the sheep. I wonder if they told those animals all about what they found in the town of Bethlehem.

   When I think about how God, through his angels, broke into their lives that night, I think, "I wish He would do that for me, right now, tonight, tomorrow, sometime this Season".

   My thoughts kind of drift along this morning as I have time in this quiet spot, and I remember a story.

   It is a short story by Leo Tolstoy called The Shoemaker's Christmas, and you can read it here:

   http://access2ministry.blogspot.com/2010/12/shoemakers-christmas.html

   The man had a dream that the Savior would visit him the next day, and he was thrilled at the prospect of a grand extraordinary event happening in his humble shop.

   But, alas, the only folks he saw on the street out his little window were ordinary. So he just saw their needs and invited them to enter and rest and get warm, while he continued to wait for his Special Guest to come by.

   You know the end. He was disappointed when his dream was not realized in the way he visualized it, but, as he sat in that empty room, his mind was awakened with the vision of the ordinary people he had ministered to that day.

   And then the familiar words:

"At last, out of the silence, Father Martin heard again the gentle voice repeating the old familiar words. “Whosoever shall receive one such in My name, receiveth Me…for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat; I was athirst, and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took Me in…verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto Me.”

   Isn't it true for us as well? We look for a great event that we can proudly tell to everyone, one that has entered our lives in a very special and extraordinary way.

   But aren't we called to live our lives where we are placed? To serve people in the ordinary paths that we walk, and to be the hands and feet of Christ where we are and when He calls.

   It may be our neighbors, our friends, those at our church or at our work.

   It may the poor, the marginalized.

   It may be to give our money to those who minister in His Name all around the world.

   But it may be to just love those He has placed in our care, and to share with those who pass at our door.

   The world may call it "ordinary", but it is much more than that.

   And the Angels sing for us and for those we serve.

   We just need to see them, really see them as God does.

   He sees no "ordinary" people…

   There is no "ordinary" Day...

Returning to the Past

   I wrote the other morning about the act of returning as I found it in the Christmas Story in Luke Chapter 2. I had determined to read this account of Jesus' birth each morning till Christmas Day in an attempt to recapture some of the awe and wonder of that "God coming to earth" time in human history.

   And I have read for the past 6 mornings, and I have pondered the story with its shepherds and angels and the baby in the manger, and it has been good to do so. It is so easy to just pass this off as some Christmas tradition and not stop to really think and be thankful for God's provision.

   But, if I am honest, a lot of the days have ended up in the remembering of Christmas memories. After all, I have spent a bunch of December 25ths on this planet, and there are several things that have come to mind.

   One picture that my minds sees is that of citrus fruit. Oranges, tangerines, grapefruit and even kumquats.

   I guess a lot of that stemmed from being in the produce business for 25 years or so. It was a big season for us then. I remember going out and getting orders from customers for their needs in this season of year. Grocery stores would look back at what sold the year before and try to anticipate what the public would do in the current year.

   Needs would be forecast to keep the shelves stocked, and these forecasts would be formed into truck loads for future delivery. Transportation would be secured for each load and brought to market at the desired time.

   It was a busy time and there was always the stress of making sure that the whole enterprise happened as planned. Most of these items came out of Florida, and, even though the trip wouldn't take more than two days from pick to delivery, things happened. 

   Trucks failed to show to pick up. Trucks broke down in route. Wrong quantities were loaded and sometimes orders showed up at the wrong warehouse. There were many opportunities for error.

   Regardless of the type of error, wrong stuff, wrong amounts, wrong day of delivery, missing trucks or what, these all ended up on the desk of the broker who had put it all together. That was us.

   Even if it all eventually worked out and all the loads got into the correct warehouses, sometimes the forecasts by the buyers did not match the wants of the eventual customers in the stores. Then we would try to find out who had extra of this and that, and match it with who needed what. 

   Although this was a month long process, it did not end until a couple of days before Christmas. We scurried practically until we closed on Christmas Eve.

   As I lived through all of this, I often thought about the fact that the busyness of the business kept us all from getting into and keeping the true meaning of the Day. I looked forward to the period when I could actually spend time thinking of the whole Christmas Story and its meaning in my life.

   I thought, "when that time comes, I will really be worshipful without the stress of citrus fruit and customers and truckers in my life".

   That time came, and I still struggle to keep Christ in Christmas. My mind and heart seem ready, but life still happens, and I am easily distracted. Even the memories that surface while I sit here in the quiet take me away from my purpose.

   So I reread the Luke account again and again, and I will hopefully be here tomorrow to read it anew, and I will pray that God will break into my thoughts and lead me to the place of worship again.

   The Christmas Story is a life-changer, and that is what I want to celebrate this year.

   "Come O Come Emmanuel"

Men Keeping Sheep...

   Looking at our manger scene and picturing it before the wise men entered the picture (if they indeed got there this early in the narrative), I see it looking like this:

   Mary, Joseph, Jesus and the shepherds and their animal charges.

   Those shepherds, however many there were at this event, whatever their ages, only appear in this one portion of the story as told in the Bible. They are not named. They seem only props.

   Shepherds, one of the lowest occupations in that time.

   Shepherds, not high on any guest list.

   Shepherds, maybe not outcasts, but definitely not welcome in a lot of places.

   Yet God knew them. They were the first at the manger. They heard angels sing. They were real men with lives and souls that mattered to God Himself.

   And they told the news to all they met.

   They led lives after the grand nighttime event, and I wonder what might those years look like.

   They may never have traveled far from the Bethlehem area. Did they ever see the Messiah again? Did they die before seeing the whole story or live through the time of the crucifixion and resurrection?

   What did they think about what they had seen and heard? Did the memory stay fresh in their lives or fade away as time went on?

   People no doubt sought them out to hear their story at first, but how believable were they as the years passed? Did they wonder about it all?

   Life expectancy was not all that long in that day, and perhaps they did not live long enough to see the end of that earthly story.

   The Bible brings them into the narrative and then they walk off, stage right, to disappear.

   Only questions and speculations are left for us as we think of them.

   Maybe, in heaven one fine day, I'll get a chance to meet and ask.

Returning to the Past and the Present...

   This morning, as the quiet of the house enveloped me, and I just sat and enjoyed it, I seemed to be directed to make my early morning times for the days leading up to Christmas a time of going back and re-reading the Christmas Story as told in Luke Chapter 2.

2 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.

   Anytime we hear that opening verse read aloud, we go back in our minds and know what is coming afterwards.

   It is so easy to get caught up in the bustle, and even the worry that accompanies this Holiday, that I felt the need to go back to the source and remember what is said in those verses of this chapter of Luke.

   And as I read again the story of the birth of The Christ, a word seemed to stand out. A word that I knew was there but also was overlooked by me in the many times of hearing and reading.

   From the New Living Translation of Luke 2:

3 All returned to their own ancestral towns to register for this census. 

15 When the angels had returned to heaven, 

20 The shepherds went back(returned) to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. 

22 Then it was time for their purification offering, as required by the law of Moses after the birth of a child; so his parents took him(returned) to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord.

39 When Jesus’ parents had fulfilled all the requirements of the law of the Lord, they returned home to Nazareth in Galilee. 

45 When they couldn’t find him, they went back(returned) to Jerusalem to search for him there. 

51 Then he returned to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them.

   And I thought of a verse from Matthew's Gospel, talking about the Magi:

12 When it was time to leave, they returned to their own country by another route, for God had warned them in a dream not to return to Herod.

   Returning indicates a going back. It can be a mental activity or a physical one.

   As I thought of revisiting again the Christmas Story, I was impressed to get out the manger scene that my Mom made and painted years ago. We had put out the tree and a couple of other things, but not this:

   But I will today, both as a reminder of my Mom and as one about the true meaning of the Holy Day.

   Then, as the Magi, I will return to the present day and be obedient to what He has called me to do.

   God help me to not only return to the things You have shown me in the past, but to return to doing what You lead me to do in the present.

 

 

Food, Football and Fun, but Most of All Family

   It has been a few days, but this morning I was thinking about Thanksgiving, maybe one of my favorite holidays.

   We drove to Arkansas for this festive period. As we get older, we keep thinking that we may not be able to do this much longer. The mileage is the same, but the rest stops are more frequent. But, we are still thankful to be able to do it.

   Thanksgiving is all about gratitude. Sure there is Football and there is Fun, and, of course Food…

   Donna took care of the bird, but Noel aced it with the rest.

   But most of all there is Family:

   And that family over across the mighty Mississippi keeps growing up and changing.

   Archer took time out to eat and play games with us, but spent a lot of time and effort with his computer and music scoring program. And he is good.

   Cady Gray and her mom enjoyed each other. (with Peg-Leg Santa)

   Noel, Donna and Cady Gray decorated the tree.

   Sure the weather outside was frightful, and the rain was not all that delightful, but we enjoyed each other.

   We ate a lot, we watched a lot, we played a lot…

   And I even got three wild cards and made my phase one time.

   And Thankful to be together for a time.

   It Was Good



 

 

Where is "Safe"?

   As Mayre and I sat in front of the TV last night and watched the things go on in San Bernadino, CA, we thought "Is there safety anywhere?"

   We don't live in Syria with all of the strife.

   We don't even live in a large American city with gang violence around the corner.

   We live in beautiful St. Simons, on an island, on a quiet street populated by nice people, and even in a gated condo with fences and a gate code.

   Then the phone rang and the message on the TV screen told us that it was the phone at the gate. If someone wants to have us open the gate from our condo, they just press the number listed by our name by the gate, and we can use our phone keypad to open it for them.

   I picked up the phone and heard voices on the other end, but no one evidently heard me say "hello" and they just continued to talk to each other. I knew someone was out there and wanted in, and no doubt they were legitimate, so I pressed the right number on my phone and heard the gate voice say, "access granted, please enter".

   Then I thought, "who in the world did I just open the gate for?"

   I walked downstairs to the garage to see if I could tell who it was and watched as a car came out of the other condo building and exited by the front gate (no code needed, it opens when a vehicle comes up to it from inside.

   There are 42 units in our complex, and everyone home last night never knew that some 'clown' had opened the gate for a unknown person.

   They all thought they, and their belongings, were safe behind the fence and gate.

   We all unthinkingly put our trust in police, in locks, in gates and fences; in guns and in our own abilities.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;

   The only true safety we have.

 

Not a New Place, But a New Face...

   We returned last evening from our Thanksgiving trip to Arkansas to be with our daughter and her family, and we are thankful to have been able to go and thankful to be home, sleeping in our own bed.

   Trips are fun.

   Trips are long sometimes.

   Trips make you appreciate home.

   Not that trips are bad. Family times are great, and when family lives far away, they are necessary. They are just not as easy as they used to be.

   But no matter if we travel the same roads, see the same scenery, and even make the same stops along the way, they are different.

   Our trip to Arkansas, Conway, Arkansas to be exact, takes us through south Georgia, a diagonal up through Alabama, across the top part of Mississippi and half way across "The Natural State" to Donna's home town.

   We try to stop, rest and walk around, every two or three hours.

   Last Tuesday we were moving up through Alabama and decided to visit Union Springs. It is always nice to be in someplace new.

   But, as we turned into the main street, we noticed a monument in the middle of the street.

   We had been here before and did not remember having done so, but the bird dog on top made us realize our mistake.

   We had also taken a picture of the old courthouse, which we are prone to do.

   As we walked into the county seat building, speaking to the sheriff's deputies at the metal detector by the front door, we asked where the rest rooms were located. (A practical note: restrooms at courthouses are usually better and cleaner than those at convenience stores..remember that.)

   Taking the elevator to the basement level, and while waiting for my wife to emerge from her pit stop, I noticed a young man, dressed in a white outfit that had State Prisoner written across the back, as he was straightening up a break room area.

   Engaging him in conversation, I found out he was serving time at the State Prison just south of town, and that this was his work assignment five days each week. I also learned that he would be getting out of prison in February.

   After talking for a few minutes, we went on our way, and he went back to work;

   Nothing profound was said, just an opportunity to affirm that he was a real person and to encourage him as he finished his sentence and went back out into the world. No doubt we will never see him again.

   Stopping at the deputy's desk at the front door on the way out, I mentioned the young man in the basement and told the officer that this guy was doing a good job, and to pass this along to those in charge of his detail.

   A chance encounter?

   I think not, but as I think about this boy, I stop to pray for him, praying for his time left to be full of meaning, and praying for his future.

   And I think back. We visited a town that we had been in before. We thought it was new to us, but wasn't. We had a conversation with a man we did not know and would probably never see again.

   Perhaps we were supposed to be there.

   I pray we handled it well...

Reflections on Light

   One of the most photographed buildings on our Island is:

The oldest standing Church building on St. Simons Island, Georgia is Lovely Lane Chapel. Formally named St. James Union Chapel, it was built by Norman W. Dodge in 1880. Repaired following a hurricane in 1897, the chapel was deconsecrated in 1911 to be used as a recreation center, and was re-consecrated in 1949 after the Methodist purchased the property. Lovely Lane is named after the site of the 1784 Founding Conference of American Methodism in Baltimore, Maryland.

   Our daughter was married here in the 90s.

   We were driving through the Epworth community the other day, and the light from the setting sun seemed right for another shot of this chapel.

          Here is the picture as I took it that day.

   How about as it might have looked in an old postcard?

   How about at night with a moon in the western sky?

   And under a deep blue sky.

   The constant in these pictures is the sameness of the actual building. The differences are due to the amount of light.

   Is not my life the same characterized by the same thing?

   Jesus says, " I am the light of the world".

   How much of that light is reflected to my world?

 

Too Soon….Too Late

   This from the Brunswick News for this morning 11/18/15.

   I believe this is the 6th year for the McGladrey (now RSM) PGA tournament here on St. Simons. I say I believe, because I count 5 shirts in the closet from my time of working these days in the past.

   The tournament will have to get along without me this time around, so, no 6th shirt right now unless I want to buy one at the shop.

   When the call came in April, via an email, for volunteers to step up again and sign up to work the event, I did so. After all it is fun for me to be involved, to watch good golf, to be up close and personal with the players, and to just be on the course, moving around and getting some good exercise walking.

   But as the time neared, I sensed some unease at being away from home so much, for 6 or more hours per day for the 4 days, and thought maybe this was just not the year to do it.

   You know, there are just some things that require a lot of thought and prayer about which way to go on a certain decision, and there are some that jump out and say "no" or "not now", and this was one of those.

   So, I opted out while there was still time for them to replace me and find someone to take my time slots. Evidently it was not too difficult as they replied to my email almost within the hour. "We understand", was the reply "and we'll look for you next year".

   I walked this morning around 6:30. The sun was getting ready to appear. The sky was a bright orange, and I realized that, if I was working, I would already be at the course, waiting for my assigned group as they begin the pro-am this morning. (the first tee time was 7AM)

   But I knew that my place was at home, watching the event on TV with my wife, not out there plodding around 18 holes with strangers.

   And the right decision is not always to do what I would want to do, but what is the right thing.

   Two choices: one with the emphasis on "I" and the second on "right".

   Too soon old, Too late smart.

   And thanks to God for letting me hang around long enough to get one right.

   Amen

Not Just a "Normal" War

   Like many of you, we sat glued to the TV last Friday when all the Paris stuff came down. We were astonished, appalled, and saddened by all that went on. I think maybe the world changed right as we watched.

   Then I woke up Saturday morning and just wanted the world to go on as usual. I think I had spent so much emotional capital Friday on the situation that I just wanted to play tennis and watch football and spend a "most usual" Saturday.

   All through the weekend we talked about those events of Friday and wondered out loud what it would all mean to us and our family in the years ahead. We also expressed the desire to hear what our favorite worldview person had to say on the subject, but since he is a weekday person, we could not get his take until this morning.

   Dr. Mohler is here:

http://www.albertmohler.com

   just click on The Briefing and hear a 20 minute or so analysis of the news.

   I could wish that all of our nation's leaders could hear and understand all that is behind this horrific story.

   And I pray that Christians will be found faithful and…

   That God Would See Fit to Bless America

"Then if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and restore their land."

   Amen

Break Out The Hymnal and Sing Along...

   It seems that so many times, it is the conjunction of two ideas that form the topic I spend my time thinking about, and most of the time it is from either a Bible passage, or a devotional, or something I've read.

   And most of the time it is definitely Christian, and that is good. That is the basis that I want to live my life on and that I want other people to see in my life, even when I know there is much more there, incriminating stuff that no one needs to know.

   So this morning I am reading a devotional on the Internet from Our Daily Bread, and it talks about being thankful. Now I like that and try to be quick to have that attitude of Thanksgiving every day. I know I have been blessed, and I know where those blessings originate. God has been so great to me and to my family all through my years.

   I guess that is why my favorite holiday is Thanksgiving. It just fits the way I feel (most of the time).

   After reading some this morning, and as I began to get breakfast ready for us, I clicked my way onto a YouTube video of Best Loved Hymns. I don't know about anyone else (except my wife), but the old hymns have a way of catching my heart and taking me where I want to go.

   I like some of the newer Christian music, especially the softer and reverent pieces, but it is the old songs that have a way of speaking to me. I also like some newer hymns, such as:

      In Christ Alone

      How Deep the Father's Love for Us

   Maybe it is because it takes me back. Maybe it is nostalgia. I don't know, but when we sing an old hymn in church, it moves within me.

   As the hymns were sung on the Internet this morning, one of the amazing things to me was the fact that I knew the words. Not just the first stanza, but the second and the third, and the fourth. Those songs had been imbedded in my mind, and they flowed out as the music played.

   Songs like:

      Amazing Grace

      He Leadeth Me

      Fairest Lord Jesus

      The Old Rugged Cross

      All Hail the Power of Jesus Name

      When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

   So, I can be thankful that my parents had their three boys in church, and that these words and melodies are still in my mind.

   The words still have a powerful meaning in my life today. I know that the older we get, the more we look backwards and love what has gone on before. We can even worship the past and hold it up as the standard, but that is not my point.

   It is the standard of Love, Grace, Mercy and Forgiveness that resonates in my heart as I listen.

   Jesus is faithful, He is guiding, and He is constant.

   That makes and keeps me Thankful

   Break out the hymnal and sing along…

 

Little Things Matter, Condo Style...

   When Mayre Lou and I moved back from Virginia in 2008, we decided to buy a condo instead of a freestanding home. We had never lived full-time in a condo and, in the back of our minds, wondered how it would be.

   You know when you sign up for condo living there are quite a few things that come into play.

   Sure, there is a pool in your back yard

   But there are other things also:

      You don't pick your close neighbors

      There are many more cars in your garage

      There are pets around, even when none belong to you

   When we purchased and moved in, we had our choice of units. Only one other had been sold, so there were 41 to choose from. There were 3 floor plans, and we decided not to buy the expensive one, and not the smallest one, taking the middle range in both price and space.

   That decided, we needed to choose which one. We took one on the bottom floor, near the elevator and the trash chute. The first floor of condo units is actually the second floor, because the garage is on the ground level.

   Seven years later, I found another reason to be where we are:

   Our garbage is picked up each Tuesday and Friday. The truck pulls in and stops at the side of the building. The driver gets out, moves the trash container out of the room on ground level, pushes it out on its rollers to the front of the truck, activates the "grabber thing" that picks up the container, hoists it over the cab and dumps it in the garbage collection area. After shaking it a couple of times, the driver lowers it and gets it back in the room before driving off to get the other building.

   This is a noisy process with a lot of metal-on-metal banging around. It also happens around 7AM on those pickup days. Luckily the master bedroom is on the other side of the condo, and we really can't hear it well from there.

   This is also a pretty rapid operation. Once you hear the truck, the garbage is out of the room and into the collection area and the container back into place in a very short time.

   It is good if you are trying to sleep in one of the front bedrooms, and it does goes quickly, but it is bad if you have something in your forgotten trash bin, and it really needs to go out, now.

   This morning, as I sat in my study area, I heard the truck pulling in. Oops, I realized I had not taken our garbage out last night and put it down the chute. I had a lot of stuff in my trash that did not really need to percolate in the container for another 3 or 4 days, so I rushed (slowly) into the kitchen and pulled the trash can into my room, got the bag out, tying it up without waking my wife.

   Then out the door, but then what? I knew if I put it down the chute and the container was already out in front of the truck, the bag would just fall on the trash room floor, and the container would cover it when the driver pushed that bin back into the room. Not good..

   I saw the top side of the truck on the other side of the landing. The driver was just hoisting the container up to dump when I had an idea. Going to the railing I noticed the open top of the truck body where the garbage had been spilled from our container. Without waiting to see if anyone would see me, I tossed the bag over the rail and down into the truck.

   Alas, I had found another advantage to living next to the trash pickup area, an added advantage to condo living that was not mentioned in the brochure.

   No way you could accomplish that task from your own house. The truck would be long gone.

   And I can still be in tune with that old Kazakh saying: (see 2nd blog post back)

   "If you ever have to rush in life, rush slowly"

   And I'll know the next time I hear that truck just how much time I have.



 

 

More This…More That

   I admit, I have enjoyed these political debates that have been on TV these last few weeks. Sometimes it has been pure entertainment, and sometimes I actually learned something about the various candidates, and that could be a good thing.

   Last night there was another Republican one, and I woke this morning thinking about all that. Eight candidates (down from the 10 of the last one), and, since we have had a few of these on the Right side of the aisle, I thought I might give them grades like this:

MORE (a simple grading scale)(Just put a MORE in front of each descriptive term)

Trump        Mild
Carson       Punctual
Rubio        Articulate
Cruz          Passionate
Bush         Passive
Fiorina      Feisty
Kasich      Interruptive
Paul          Constant

And to add one more MORE to one who was not on the stage

Christie     Missed

   I deliberately stayed away from any news or analysis of the debate on this morning's Internet so that these might be mine and uninfluenced by other's thoughts, so it will be interesting to hear what others have to say.

   And to think that we still have another whole year before an election.

   Will it be an entertaining 12 months

           or

   Will it be a LONG year

If You Ever Have to Rush in Life...

   In our family, when some or all of us are gathered together, we like to play games. Card games, board games, any games.

   I believe that it was during one of our family Christmases together, after the smaller ones had gone off to bed, the adults played a board game, one either given as a Christmas present or brought to the beach house by one of the families gathered there.

   Wise and Otherwise is a game of sayings. From around the world they have been gathered and put in a box. If you have not played, it goes like this. One person draws a card and reads the first part of the saying, or proverb, telling from which country it originated. The reading leaves out the ending, and each player completes it on his own. There is a right answer on the card that only the reader can see.

   Each person writes their completion on a slip of paper, and the reader writes the real answer on one also. They are shuffled and read out loud with all of the players voting for the one that they think is the correct one.

   At times, the answers come out so hilarious that the designated reader can hardly get them out from trying to stifle the giggles and outright laughter. What begins as a serious attempt to get it right turns into a "roll in the floor" adult silly party.

   Some of the answers become household sayings of their own. The right answer is quickly forgotten but the made-up one takes on the mantle of a legend. Take for example the beginning:

   "Darkness hides…….."

   and in the subsequent attempt to gather votes, a player writes:

   "the fools shoddy workmanship"

   Realizing that this inside joke may not seem outrageously funny, except to those who were there, you might think we had all gone nuts, as we could not stop laughing (all except the writer of the ending who was wondering why it was so funny, when he wrote it in all seriousness).

   It got zero votes, but the legend was born and is still spoken of today anytime the game is mentioned.

   That is a long introduction to a book I am reading:

   A story of an Australian man taking 3 years to follow in the tracks of the famous Genghis Khan on horseback, from Mongolia through Central and western Asia (i.e. the old USSR) and into Europe at the Danube River.

   As the author moves through Kazakhstan, interacting with the locals along the way, he is given some advice by a man named Baitak, sounding like a saying from our board game.

   "If you ever have to rush in life…"

   "Rush Slowly."

   Isn't it true, maybe especially for me, that when I am rushing around, it is because there is something else that I want to do, and I am about to lose any time for doing it?

   I do not have to look farther back than this morning, as I began to read some things in my quiet time. Near the end of one section was a link to a video that went along with it. When I clicked on the link, I realized that it was 34 minutes long.

   How would I ever get to all the other things I planned to read during that time if I stopped to watch and listen?

   But I did, and it was a message I needed to hear.

   A God Thing?

   I can't say for sure, but I knew it was for me.

   So I rushed slowly through it and was glad I did.

   An old Kazakh proverb, up to date in the 21st century.