Blessings Were Had By All...

   Yesterday I got an email as follows:

"Gentlemen,
        Thank you for caring for our friend and elder Paul in what proved to be a very difficult chapter of life. Your steadfast love, and practical concern demonstrated in a powerful way the reality of Jesus’ love among us. Your visits, with reading, telling stories, sharing hymns and just being at his side proved of great encouragement as Paul prepared to depart.
        He has now gone on to his reward, but he will thank you for those visits the next time you see him. I want to thank you now. You have been friends in need, which is to say friends in deed.
        the Lord has manifest His love through you. Thanks for being channels of blessing.
        Grace"

   This was sent by a man who was (and still is) an elder in the church we attended when we lived in Blacksburg, VA for a few years. It was sent to the members of a "Boy's Club" there in Blacksburg.

   That "Club" is an organization that might need a little explanation and history.

   Back around '06 or so, a couple of retired men had the idea of a group of men who might meet on a regular basis to encourage each other, to do some Bible Study, have fellowship together and maybe even participate in some local projects, especially involving the church that we all attended.

   I believe we began with 6 "old guys". Bruce, John, Paul, George, Roy and myself.

   It was an eclectic group, and we had fun and some serious times together. We read some books that we talked about together at meetings, We packed some boxes for Operation Christmas Child, some played tennis or golf together, we socialized together with our wives at times, and generally enjoyed "man fellowship".

   When Mayre and I left Va in 2008, the group continued on with new members added over the years. It still functions, and they have been kind enough to keep me on the email list so I could follow their progress.

   They have also done a lot more in the way of service, including a lot of work projects around the church.

   And, as the group has grown older together, there have been times of a more personal service. There have been caregiver relief projects, where the "Boys" have gone into a home and sat with a sick relative or friend to let the caregiver get out and do some things outside the home.

   I was already gone from Blacksburg when these began, but I have been able to keep up with them from the emails.

   From a social meeting and study group, albeit with the serious purpose of "finishing our time on earth well" to a group that is doing a lot of good and showing a lot of care and love. I love hearing about the work, but I miss being a part of it.

   But I am proud to have been one of the originals and to watch these "Boys" serve their church, community and members of the body of Christ in such an effective and caring way.

   There was another email, this from one of the "Boys" that summed up their feeling of service, in this instance of sitting with a man who was an original member of the group, whose wife had just passed away a few weeks before, and who had served others for a long time in our church.

   It read:

"I believe I am speaking for the group when I say that it was a "blessing for us" to be able to be there with Paul. To hold his hand, rub his arm, talk with him (when he was alert enough for that), to read scripture to him, play hymns for him, some sang to him and to pray with him.
He told me he knew he would not be here much longer but he also said he was ready. He is now reunited with his  blessed Elna and meeting his Lord and Savior face to face. Thank you for your kind words. God's blessings on the family."

   Paul Ribbe died last week.

   Paul's life was one of dedication to the service of Jesus.

   "The Boys" displayed to the world the same service to the same Master.

   And Blessings were had by All.

   Amen

The Present is Not All There Is, Or Will Be...

   The ground that I stand on today has so very much to do with what has gone on in the past, and that past consists of events and decisions from way, way back as well as those from yesterday. It is another fact of life.

   For a long time now, I have tried to be intentional about my relation to God and the attempt to follow where I sense His leading. Not perfectly to be sure, but I try, and at least I am conscious of that need in my life.

   From the beginning of this year, I have been following the Bible Reading Plan developed by Franklin Graham's Samaritian's Purse organization. A plan keeps me on track, and I need that discipline.

   Along with the Bible I try to read some other devotional. Somehow doing both helps me keep perspective on the day and my life in it.

   About a month back, I was in the front bedroom checking the bookcase for a book I remembered, when I noticed a small book there, a book by Charles Ringma, Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen.

   I was introduced to Henri Nouwen back in the 90s while taking graduate level courses at Covenant College. One of my professors used Nouwen's readings as a prelude to his class each day, and I have appreciated him (both the prof. and the writer) ever since.

   Placing this book alongside my Bible and reading guide, I began to journey through the 180 reflections presented therein.

   Yesterday, Nouwen talked about the joyful life, and a lot of days I don't relate to that concept well. The present is sometimes frustrating and not pleasant. I don't feel resentful just a bit overwhelmed.

   From Reflection 29:

      "We do not need to live as if all that we are and have now is all that will ever be. The present does not need to have the last word. Life always has new possibilities that flow out of new decisions and new commitments. However we don't always live with a joyful anticipation toward the future. The present can so encompass our horizon that we can see nothing else."

   But I truly want to have that joyful heart, all the time, not just occasionally...

   From Reflection 30:

      "Nothing will empower us to move forward as much as a joyful heart that has heard the call, counted the cost, made its commitment and embraced the new. 

      Reluctant obedience or sheer willpower will never last the distance. Only the joyful heart can walk that road."

   Reluctant obedience and sheer willpower...is that what I am trying to do?

   That is not what I want.

   Praying for guidance to see beyond the horizon, and strength to serve as I should.

   Help me God, Please

Death-A Fact Of Life..

   Back in the 80s and early 90s, while we were still living in the country outside Chattanooga, my Mom and Dad (alias Nana and Papa), built a home on our property so that we could look after them as needed.

   We watched them come and go and decided that a lot of their trips were to the hospital or funeral home. At their ages (Nana was 86 when she died in 1995, and Papa was 84 when he died in 1993), their friends were dying off as they watched.

   Now we are them. In our early 80s, we are in the same situation. That fact came immediately to mind when one of our long-time St. Simons friends passed away this week.

   Mary Hartford was 84 when she died this past Monday. We had visited her in Hospice three times over the past couple of weeks and watched as she went through her final days.

   Mary had stated for several years that "she wanted to go home". Home for her was Heaven, and she could see no reason for her to still be here on this earth. She had been diagnosed with a tumor two years ago and given 6 months to live. She was ready and wondered for all this "extra" time why she still was alive and functioning down here.

   When Mary's daughter, Dottie and family, build a new home, they put a mother-in-law suite on the south side with a nice screened porch where she could sit and watch her garden and the birds that frequented the feeders there. Mayre and I spent many hours over the past few years, visiting, talking and watching from the chairs on that porch.

   Mary Hartford was a remarkable lady. Always smiling, funny and inspirational at the same time, great with kids and great to be around. She will be missed by all of us.

   It is just like the flowers that one of our kids sent to my wife on her birthday, they are also dying. They lasted 16 days in a watery vase and were beautiful, but now we find more petals on the table every morning.

   We also are beginning to realize just what Nana and Papa's lives were like at this age. Mary's funeral is this afternoon, and we will be there to pay our respects and remember this life that intertwined with ours after we moved to the Island back in '95.

   And we will look forward to seeing Mary again in Heaven, where the petals will still be on all the flowers.

   And we can laugh together again on her mansion porch up there.

Wonders and Wonders

   What has science done to make flowers last longer?

   Here we have a bouquet of flowers sent by one of our children on the occasion of my wife's birthday on 5/31.

   Lo and behold it is 6/7 and the flowers are still fresh looking and vibrant. It is a miracle.

   Another wonder is the fact that I can still use these for our anniversary and save a nickle. There would be no use to buy more for this occasion when these are still good.

   Anniversary Number 59 and maybe that is the most blessed wonder of all.

   Thanks Mom for being here with me and taking care of me for all this time.

   I am blessed, and by much more than flowers.

   Amen

A Movie, A Tombstone, A Poem, A Verse and A Prayer

   I feel inadequate this morning.

   There have been several things that have brought thoughts to my mind over the past few days, but I don't know how to explain them. In my mind, I see how they fit, but will they just appear to be random to anyone else?

   They all relate back to the same subject, but how do I string them together?

   Perhaps they will pull themselves together as I put them down.

   Perhaps not, but that is a chance I have to take. These thoughts do not have to see the light of day, except for me, and this writer does not have to hit the "publish" button at the top of the page. They can be just filed away in the Drafts folder and left there.

   But here goes anyway....Let's see what happens...

   I ran into a friend the other day. He related how he and his wife had been watching a movie on line. He had wanted to tell me about it, but did not know if it was the right thing to do. I said, "send me the title in an email, and let me take a look at it".

   The movie, which I streamed on Amazon, was entitled Still Mine, the story of a Canadian farmer whose wife had developed Alzheimer's, and their journey down that road. Even though that is not a diagnosis that fits our situation exactly, there are similarities.

   It was a true story, acted out well on the silver screen, and it hit me.

   I wanted to handle life situations like that man, with courage, with compassion, and with a conviction that God had called me to be a Christian husband that loved his wife.

   And that mirrored the wedding vows, Dr. Robertson McQuilken wrote about in his little book, A Promise Kept..

   "In sickness and in health, Till death do us part"

   I went back in my mind to a tombstone I saw on Barbados. One that I have mentioned before, which read:

   "She showed how a Christian woman ought to die."

   I wanted my epitaph to reflect the sentiment:

   "He showed how a Christian man loved his wife".

   I felt called to be that man, however weak and imperfect my example was.

   But wait, that movie was not all that has been in my mind these days.

   I go back to a poem in McQuilken's book, entitled Lord Let Me Get Home Before Dark, which contains these words:

"It’s sundown, Lord.
The shadows of my life stretch back
into the dimness of the years long spent.
I fear not death, for that grim foe betrays himself at last,
thrusting me forever into life:
Life with You, unsoiled and free.
But I do fear.
I fear the Dark Spectre may come too soon
– or do I mean, too late?
That I should end before I finish or
finish, but not well.
That I should stain Your honor, shame Your name,
grieve Your loving heart.
Few, they tell me, finish well . . .
Lord, let me get home before dark."

   Not to grieve the heart of God, but to finish well, all of life's challenges, right up to the end.

   Those same words were posted in a blog post by a friend in VA just the other day. Coincidence? I think not.

   Then lastly, I think, a verse that I want to paraphrase out of my Psalms reading on this past Sunday. David writing in Psalms 69:6:

"May those who wait for Thee not be ashamed through me"

and:

"May those who seek Thee not be dishonored through me"

And, I pray, "God let me be the man you want me to be in all of life's situations, and let me also get home before dark"..

   Amen



  

Memorial Day, An Intersection of Emotions...

   I have always liked the word "juxtaposition", or maybe I just enjoyed the sound of it. It sounded like a word that an intellectual would use. Not that I am one, of course, just pretending to be one.

   When it comes to the celebration of the American Memorial Day, I see it as, in many cases, the intersection of Pride and Sadness. These two emotions meet at the headstone of the fallen warrior.

   Yesterday I thought back over the times I have visited places where monuments or tombstones provided this backdrop.

   There are large, manicured spaces where the headstones are aligned and uniform:

   Such as the National Cemetery in Chattanooga

   Or the one we found on a trip accidentally one day in Indiantown Gap, PA

   Or the one that is a part of the Andersonville, GA Civil War site

   Or in Union Springs, AL

   There are also cemeteries that are distinctly personal and maybe not so "pretty":

   Sometimes these men and women lie in small cemeteries like the one down in Camden County at the site of the abandoned Oak Grove Baptist Church.

   One of the graves there at Oak Grove

   A marker at a cemetery outside Folkston, GA, non-readable but with a flag

   Or one at Ludowici, GA up in Long County

   Or one at Schlatterville, GA, over in Brantley County, near Hoboken

   Sometimes a number of names were together as those who died in a war, like these monuments in Litchfield, CT.

   I confess that I have never heard a shot fired in anger. My only military service was in the Army Reserve from 1955 through 1962. I never served on active duty in time of war.

   I have no parents or grandparents who have served in time of war, or children or grandchildren either, so I can't feel the personal pride or sadness as I stand in any of these places. National pride, of course, but it cannot be the same.

   I have seen men standing or kneeling at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, DC with hands tracing a name, or mothers with small children at a headstone in a National Cemetery, but I can't know that feeling personally. Even now as I write, I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I can't know the heartache of loss they experience.

   They stand with juxtaposition of feelings, while I stand at the intersection of those emotions and silently give thanks

   I am grateful for all the sacrifices made throughout our history, by men and women, by  their families and loved ones, and I try to touch the hem of their garments to experience how they feel. My hat is off to them, and my thanksgiving as well.

   And I try not to forget...

  

  

Narnia, Lucy and a Meaning for Life

   Days ago, I guess probably weeks ago, we set out on a project to read all of the Narnia books, All seven.

   I had never read them at all, had heard about them all my life, but figured I was past the correct age to take them up. My wife had read a couple but not the whole series.

   So I bought all seven and set to reading them out loud.

   First of all, I liked the stories..

   The heroes were good and the villains were bad..

   I liked the allegories..

   And I liked the ending paragraph, which were the last words in the last book:

      "And for us this is the end of of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."

   The books were great on many levels, the stories, the adventures, the symbolism, and the ending, as they made one think of the world we live in and the worlds beyond. Wrapping your mind about that is well worth the effort and puts our lives in perspective to the whole.

   And there were a couple of other things that helped us to enjoy them.

   There was a girl in the stories, and her name was Lucy. When we saw her in action and heard in our mind the words the author had given her, it reminded us of one of our grand daughters who has the same name. We could see her in the story with her smiles, wit and energy, giving us a reference point to real life in our world.

   And there was the fact that we did a lot of our reading the last thing in the day, right before bedtime. Much better to drift off to sleep with the stories in our minds than images of the Nightly News.

   We might even read them again one day.

   They were definitely worth the time.