Do You Believe in Miracles?

   I know this is a quote from a TV announcer at the 1980 Winter Olympics in Lake Placid, NY, where the good guys (US) upset the bad guys (USSR) in hockey, but it is also an apt description of a football game played here last night.

   First let me set the stage for the game: Frederica Academy (designated "we" in the narrative below) were playing for the State championship in their division. Their opponents, Robert Toombs Christian School, from Lyons, GA, (designated "they" in the story) had been the loser in the regular season by a 28-0 score. Sounds like a ho-hum mismatch, right? Maybe.

   An aside; Mayre and I went to the game for a couple of reasons. We had not gone to a regular season game and several of the players from Frederica go to our church. It was a pleasant night for football and the game was only a few minutes from our condo.

 

   As the players came onto the field for the opening kickoff, I could not help but notice the difference in the sizes of the players. They wore white uniforms and looked like a really big high school team. We, on the other hand, wore all green and looked like a middle school squad, or smaller. The question in my mind was "how in the world did we skunk them the time before?"

   They kicked off, we fumbled on the first series, and they drove relentlessly down the field and scored, 7-0.

   They kicked off again, and again a fumble ensued on our next possession, and again they drove down and scored with little trouble, 14-0. Their big offensive line, and they were big, were just pushing the green team all over the field, and it looked bleak, and it was only the first quarter.

   In the second quarter, they scored again, but missed the PAT and led 20-0. The green boys got a long run and pushed in a score to make it 20-7, before the big boys in white got a field goal to make it 23-7 at halftime.

   Home and hearth looked good at that point, but we were sitting with friends from church, which included families of boys on the team, so we stayed in our seats. During the half, I remarked to two of my golfing partners, that it sure did not look good for the home team. Our boys were not going to gain any weight in the 15 minute reprieve, and the white guys were not going to shrink either. We were being overpowered. They were in our backfield for the whole half, and we were making tackles 10 and 20 yards down the field on most snaps.

   I confess, that when a lady came up to our part of the stands where several parents of players were sitting and asked them to join her in a prayer, I thought it was silly. Was God going to stop this slaughter just because some of the players and parents were Christian? After all we were playing a Christian school no less. I did not join in the prayer, but could hear some of it from where I stood. The prayer was essentially one of asking that "our boys" play up to their potential, not give up in the second half, and to let the result glorify Him. A good prayer, but underneath it all I heard, in my current state of mind, "please let us win". I was not thinking of miracles, just the obvious truth that were were over matched.

   The second half started with a continuation of the first, a score by the visitors that made it 30-7. The other side of the field was jumping and our side was pretty quiet. 23 points behind, going into the 4th quarter, now that is a hole.

   As the last quarter began, we scored one more time to make it a respectable 30-14.

   Another long pass, a score, a try for a 2 point conversion that failed, and the score was 30-20.

   The green defense was playing lights out, giving up some yards but stiffening when they needed to. The little boys in green were swarming the ball carriers, but it was already deep into the fourth quarter.

   Then another long run and the score was 30-27. Was it possible? By this time the clock was running down into the 5 minute area, but if we could get a field goal, the game would be forced into overtime where anything could happen.

   The little guys in green were playing hard and the big guys in white were seemingly a little tired, but it was down into the 2 minute area and the clock continued to run.

   The green team got a drive going but it stalled down near the opponents goal. It was 4th and 4 yards to go, but a field goal would tie it all up. Lo and behold, a white team player lined up in the neutral zone and was called for offsides before the kick attempt. After a 5 yard penalty, it was first and goal for the greens.

   TOUCHDOWN and the score was 34-30, home team.

   The stands where I stood were going wild, but the other side was pretty quiet. What seemed like a certain victory for the white team a few minutes before now looked bleak for the visitors. But there was still a minute and 40 seconds left. Anything could happen. There was still hope for them and they did not give up.

   But, alas, it was not to be. A long pass was broken up in green territory, and then the next one was intercepted. Two kneel downs and the State Championship came to St. Simons. The home crowd rushed the field and the celebration began. What seemed impossible just a few minutes back, was a reality.

   As I sit here this morning, going over all of this in my mind, I go back to that prayer at halftime. God knew the outcome of the game. He knew all the people involved. Did He answer one school's prayer and not the other? Was one school somehow better? Were there greater lessons to be learned by all that did not relate to the final score or how the game played out?

   I know there are some great theological points to be made from all of this. There is a life to be lived beyond football. Players and fans will remember the game and the emotions, but the great significance will be made up in how each lives, from that moment forward. That will be true for the winners and for the losers of this one game. After all, it is only a game.

   But what a game!

My Two Most Uttered Prayers

   As I woke up this morning, I gave out one small prayer, "God Help me".

   Then as I proceeded on, getting up and dressed, then sitting in the quiet room, opening the Bible readings for this day, I began to think about that prayer. Was it some specific thing that triggered my mind into action this morning? Was it something that I had dreamed or kept in my subconscious throughout the night? Was it just a general plea for help in my life?

   I confess that I really do not know what caused that prayer to surface at that particular time. There are some specific concerns and some general ones. I know that I need God's help to live this upcoming day in the way that I should, and I also know that there are things in my life and family that need His Hand.

   I realize that I do not know what the later hours of this day will hold. I do have a general idea of some things that are on my schedule for today, but how they will unfold is anyone's guess. I know some of the people that I will have some contact with, but don't know how those interactions will proceed either. In short, I know, but I don't know.

   The one thing that I know for certain, as the day plays out in its entirety, is that, in order to have the right attitudes in all these relationships, I need help, and I need supernatural help. In my flesh, I am supremely selfish. I want what I want, and the feelings, hopes, dreams, joys or sorrows and concerns of  others take second place. I cannot be what I need to be on my own. I cannot be what God wants me to be without His abiding help. Not just a shot of help now and then, but a continual one.

   Then I think of what gives me the right to even ask for His help. It is not my goodness that prompts this outpouring of his love and grace. As I read the Psalm for this morning, the ending words give me a clue. From Psalm 18:

   "the Lord dealt with me according to my righteousness;
according to the cleanness of my hands he rewarded me." 

   But I know that I do not meet these requirements on my own. I have no righteousness or cleanliness in my life without the covering of the shed blood of Jesus Christ. It is His forgiveness that gives me that status where I can approach an Eternal God, and ask for help.

   Oh yes, that leads me to my second most uttered prayer:

   "Thank You God"

Life Moves On, and On, and On.....

   I confess this morning that the first words of Psalm 5 speak my heart:

 "Give ear to my words, O Lord;
consider my groaning.
Give attention to the sound of my cry,
my King and my God,
for to you do I pray."

   My brother up in Louisville, Ky sent me an article from his daily paper yesterday, talking about a prison ministry up in West Virginia that is engaged in sending books to inmates in prisons around that area. He was asking me if that is what we used to do, and do I miss that, now that the funds we used to buy and send the books, has been used up?

   My answer is yes, I do miss it. It could be the lack of interaction with those in need of some hope, or it could be that without something to do with my hands, in other words, being busy, I don't feel very needed.

   Realizing that this is a mistaken attitude toward service, and that busyness is not the answer to a fulfilling life of helping others, it is still hard not to be important in God's work. Not the self importance of saying "Look here, this is what I do", but the making a difference in the lives of people, especially those that are the forgotten of society.

   I realize also that God has put me here, where I am, and He has given me other avenues of service. He has given me responsibilities in His work, and I know He has not put me out to pasture. I do not need to look for some grandiose scheme to give me a sense of worth, I only need to serve where I am called.

   I also know that my golf score or my tennis games are not the answer to a fulfilling life. They are fun ways to fill some days, but my cry is for more meaning in my life in the days that I have left on this earth.

   I want to help but not just to be busy.

   God, open my eyes to see what is around me. The opportunities that I have for service for You and the importance to You of my activities. Help me to feel a sense of worth in what I do, and help me to be a blessing to others.

   This is what I ask this morning.

When Silence is not Silent

   I woke up this morning with no real agenda in my mind. I felt like I would just do a little bit of Bible Study, and a little bit of writing to begin my day.

   Then came a phone call, someone checking my morning schedule to see if I would be available for a meeting in about 45 minutes. So I ate a quick breakfast and then proceeded to leave. After an hour or so, I came home, ready to take up where I left off and do my quiet time. Then Mayre tells me that the church had called and had some checks that needed to be signed, so off I went again, signed, and returned home once again.

   I knew I still had the time to have a quality study, prayer and meditation period before lunch, so I sat down and read the Scriptures for today. And what happened? Nothing! My mind was still turning from the meeting and the conversations at church, and, even as I read, I could sense that all I was doing was just that, reading. Nothing jumped out at me from the pages of the readings, nothing that I could put my hands on and say that God was trying to show me this or that out of what I read.

   I was almost as if He was saying, "I have given you many things over the past days and weeks, are you living a changed life because of that, or have those things just been written down and forgotten?" "Were they only for you to have something to blog about, or were they to be lived?"

   So I began to look back at some previous posts, ones where I felt He had spoken to me about some issues in my life. Have I continued on a path that He has pointed out to me, or just written those thought down and gone my merry way?

   Let's see:

   I wrote about the turmoil in Israel and the Middle East. Have I spent any time in prayer for all of that?

   I wrote about my treatment of other people and my attitude in dealing with strangers, as well as people that I knew. How about that?

   I wrote about my responsibility because of the way God has blessed me? Am I still just accepting His blessings and going on my way?

   I wrote about a special day. Have I consciously made an effort to make a day, any day, even this day, special to someone?

   I wrote about a Thanksgiving filled with hospitality for others. Have I even thought about it since that day?

   I wrote about pride and how it relates to concern for others less fortunate than I. How have I lived that out?

   Good Grief, Charlie Brown, I can see why God might choose to be silent on this morning. Could it be that He is saying "Look at all you have been prompted to think about and write down. Take note of the things I have put into your mind. What have you done with all these insights into your own life?"

   And the list above only came from the past few posts.

   Could it be that His silence was not that after all?

Proud or what?

   Two images come into my mind this day, as I think back over the past few days. We spent Thanksgiving in Virginia with Doug and family and then  went on down to Charlotte on Friday to see that family and, in particular, the kids (not really, but teens) run a race on Saturday, before we came on back home that evening.

   As I read the Psalms this morning, this verse spoke to one of those images:

His (God's) delight is not in the strength of the horse,
nor his pleasure in the legs of a man,
but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him,
in those who hope in his steadfast love.

   Then I think of the picture that goes with it, at least in my mind:

 

   Is this guy proud or what? I noticed a man looking this pleased with himself, strutting around the race area Saturday after his race, with his medal proudly displayed on his chest.

   Then another verse from another Psalm:

   (The Lord) who executes justice for the oppressed,
who gives food to the hungry.
   Then another picture from the day before Thanksgiving:

 

   This is not a picture I took (or the other one either) but we did encounter a man, standing near the entrance to a grocery store, with a sign that said, "No Food" on a piece of cardboard.

   Now I can't really look into the mind or heart of either man that I encountered over those few days, but the contrast is striking. I don't know if the begging man was actually destitute and hungry, and I don't know about the runner either. But God knew both.

   I have a hard time deciding what to do when I meet up with a person asking for some handout. I know that can be a scam and just a job for some. But I also know that there are people out there who do hurt and who do need. So what do I do?

   Well, I figure that if God puts me in their path, or them in mine, I should have His heart toward them. So, if the sign says "I'm Hungry", I give them some food. Now I know that is a very little thing to do, and maybe I should at least stop a minute and talk to them with some encouragement, but the least I can do is acknowledge them as a person, and not just a road sign.

   I don't want to say "God Bless you and be filled" and go my way. In that case I could be a part of the problem and not of any solution. So I give and leave it to God to know the outcome. He cares and I want to also.

   I didn't get a medal either.....

A Blessing of Hospitality

   Yesterday we celebrated Thanksgiving. In some ways it was a traditional American Thanksgiving Day, but in other ways it was different from any other that have been ours over the years.

   Yes we had the 3 Fs, family, food and football. We were up here in Blacksburg, VA with our youngest son and his family, and Dawn had indeed prepared a fantastic feast with all the stuff that we have come to associate with the Day. There was the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the sweet potatoes, the green beans, the cranberry dish and the pumpkin desert. And we ate it all.

   Then there was football, which went on into the night. It did not much matter who was playing, we just enjoyed watching it all together. Parts of the family came and went from the TV set during the game, but we all watched parts of it together, and the screen was filled with those images for most of the day and evening.

   But it was a different day also. We shared our feast with seven other people. One from Pennsylvania, a couple from Greece, a couple from Brazil and another couple from India. It was an international Thanksgiving.

   This was a day for hospitality. These 7 folks joined us for all of the above, and we were blessed by having them around us. Doug and Dawn opened their home to four young men and three wives, the men being his students at the University. They were able to show these students true Christian hospitality as they were included in our family day.

   I trust that these men and women were blessed by being there and sharing with us, I know I was. It was great to see the three kids of Doug's family share with these strangers, too. The students were taken right into all the family doings, from all the above features of the Day, to endless games of ping pong and a lot of discussions around the dinner table. It was not only a time of sharing traditions, it was a time of sharing lives on an intimate basis.

   I sit here this morning being thankful to God for all His blessings to me, and I am grateful that He just added one more BIG blessing to me yesterday.

   I am truly blessed.

Thanksgiving, Not Just a Holiday

   Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. As I sit here this morning, I don't really know why it has held this place in my life, but from as long as I can remember, it has been so. Maybe it was because, as a boy growing up, that this day was the prelude to the real Holiday season of Christmas with all of its pageantry and fun. Maybe it was family, food and football. Regardless, I am here again today, looking forward to the events of this special day.

   But I also think that thanksgiving is more than just a holiday. It is more than just a way of living my life, as good as that might be. It is more than just sitting around a festive table, filled with goodies, and recalling the things that I am thankful for. It involves at least two more ingredients, two responsibilities.

   It is not enough to just be thankful. I can rest on the sofa after a big (no, a huge) meal and be pleasantly thankful. Filling my heart with this gratitude and being satisfied in where I am and what my place in life has become. It is more than just that. My personal responsibility is to make sure that my thankfulness is directed to the true source of all these blessings. Just being thankful is not enough, being thankful to God, the giver of all things, is important. It is not through anything that I have done, or deserve, that my life is filled, it is only by His hand that I am blessed.

   The second is like unto the first. When I am truly thankful to God, it is my responsibility not to shrink away from proclaiming that fact. I don't need to just sit back and accept these things from His hand, I need to be faithful in sharing the reason for my grateful attitude. If it is not a secret to me where all of my blessing comes from, neither should it be a secret kept in my heart and not shared.

  I said two responsibilities, but just thought of a third. The sharing of blessings, both by word and action, is another way of being truly thankful. God has blessed me and I need to bless others by what I say, what I do, and what I have.

   There is a chorus that we used to sing a lot of times in church, and need to sing more, that is the way that I want to live my life.

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

   I love this verse. I get chills when I hear the music and think on the words. I want it to be the statement of my life.

   I am thankful today for everything God has given to me, both spiritual and material, but I want to be His man here where He has put me, to not only have this attitude, but to fulfill the responsibilities that come with the blessings.

   May it be so, even today and the rest of my days.