Taking his cue from the JFK statement, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask what you can do for your country,” the evangelist said, “Don’t ask God for a task that fits your ability, but believe that God will give you the ability for the task.”
He recalled a time when he was a youth pastor many years ago. As a project for the youth group, he assigned them the task of hand-copying the Bible! Surprisingly, they rose to the challenge and worked long and hard for 18 months, the Bible being divided into sections for different groups.
“It was amazing,” the former youth pastor said, showing us a newspaper clipping with the publicity gained by the unusual project, with the headline, “YOUTH GROUP COPIES BIBLE BY HAND”. “Sometimes in stormy weather when the youth group had gathered and the power went out due to snow and blizzards, they would work by candlelight, carefully writing on old parchment paper, just like the scribes of old.”
He described one girl who was particularly dedicated to the project. “She was short and thin, with long stringy hair and came to church whether someone picked her up or she had to walk.” He went on, “This girl had the sweetest personality ever, but with her freckles and uneven teeth, she couldn’t be called pretty. In fact, she was more than plain, she was ugly!”
“She was devoted to the task, though,” he went on. Then the evangelist’s voice broke. “And do you know where she is now, some 35 years later?” he asked. “She’s in the jungles of Peru, working with Wycliffe Bible Translators to translate the Bible into their language!”
Tears came to my eyes at the realization of this marvelous outcome for the young girl, who seemed to have little to offer in the eyes of the world. The evangelist said he was firmly convinced that God had given her the ability for such a task when she was faithful to the lesser task way back then.
Just today I have been so gratified to see the results of years of parents pouring into children and staying faithful to the Biblical injunction to “Bring up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.” A beautiful worship song has been composed and recorded and put on the internet by a talented young man whose father was a worship leader in our former church for years. We knew the parents as a young couple who were devoted to serving the Lord.
Also, today, I viewed on the internet a wonderfully done, inspirational, dramatic video, created and directed by our youngest son. God has surely given to these young men the ability for the tasks of reaching people for the Kingdom!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 30, 2011
High Dollar Rollers
“We’re going to do something a little different this morning,” said our pastor just before starting the Sunday morning service. “Brother John has asked me if he could have a couple of minutes, so I agreed. Brother John?” he said as he motioned for the man, who could only be called a character, to come up.
“Well, I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish my wife a happy anniversary!” John said in his folksy drawl. “We’ve been married 56 years!” Everyone applauded politely, and he continued, “Now I couldn’t be like so many of these guys who are talented: Susie's husband could sing her a song for their anniversary, and Sally’s husband has an old 'coon dog, he could take her 'coon hunting for their anniversary,” he said as she smiled indulgently from the piano.
“Brother Joe, he’s a barber, so I guess he could give his wife a haircut for an anniversary present,” the loquacious original went on as the lady shook her head vigorously from the pew. "And you preachers out there, you could probably preach your wife a real good sermon for her anniversary!" (I must say I could relate to that!) "But I wrote my wife a poem," he said proudly. Then he read a whimsical poem in his clumsy, appealing way, to his wife’s pleased embarrassment.
“I told her I was going to take her on a trip for our anniversary, so we went to two garage sales,” he quipped. "Then I asked if there was anything else she wanted to do, and she said yes, she wanted to top it off by going to Burger King!”
Later, the guest speaker talked about a recent anniversary of his own. “I was in a drugstore getting my wife a card a little late,” he explained. “The line to the cash register was long, and I had been waiting awhile when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.” He paused a moment and then said, “It was my wife!”
“ ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked me. ‘Are you buying me a card?’ I told her yes, and she said she was buying me one, too! Then I said, ‘Why don’t you just read this one, and I’ll read the one you were going to buy me, then we can go get a sandwich with the money we saved!’ And that is what we did!”
With age comes thrift and a greater appreciation for the simple things. We, too, are guilty of pinching pennies and enjoying the senior discounts. But our best anniversary was our 50th, when our kids surprised us with a destination “AnniverseReunion” at the Gaylord-Opryland Resort Hotel where all our six children, their spouses, and our 18 grandchildren joined us for a memorable few days. The glitzy surroundings were balanced out by our visit to the Grand Ole Opry and our huge family dinner at the rustic Caney Forks Fish Camp restaurant! It turned out to be our most economical anniversary, too, since they wouldn’t let us pay for a thing!
“Well, I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish my wife a happy anniversary!” John said in his folksy drawl. “We’ve been married 56 years!” Everyone applauded politely, and he continued, “Now I couldn’t be like so many of these guys who are talented: Susie's husband could sing her a song for their anniversary, and Sally’s husband has an old 'coon dog, he could take her 'coon hunting for their anniversary,” he said as she smiled indulgently from the piano.
“Brother Joe, he’s a barber, so I guess he could give his wife a haircut for an anniversary present,” the loquacious original went on as the lady shook her head vigorously from the pew. "And you preachers out there, you could probably preach your wife a real good sermon for her anniversary!" (I must say I could relate to that!) "But I wrote my wife a poem," he said proudly. Then he read a whimsical poem in his clumsy, appealing way, to his wife’s pleased embarrassment.
“I told her I was going to take her on a trip for our anniversary, so we went to two garage sales,” he quipped. "Then I asked if there was anything else she wanted to do, and she said yes, she wanted to top it off by going to Burger King!”
Later, the guest speaker talked about a recent anniversary of his own. “I was in a drugstore getting my wife a card a little late,” he explained. “The line to the cash register was long, and I had been waiting awhile when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.” He paused a moment and then said, “It was my wife!”
“ ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked me. ‘Are you buying me a card?’ I told her yes, and she said she was buying me one, too! Then I said, ‘Why don’t you just read this one, and I’ll read the one you were going to buy me, then we can go get a sandwich with the money we saved!’ And that is what we did!”
With age comes thrift and a greater appreciation for the simple things. We, too, are guilty of pinching pennies and enjoying the senior discounts. But our best anniversary was our 50th, when our kids surprised us with a destination “AnniverseReunion” at the Gaylord-Opryland Resort Hotel where all our six children, their spouses, and our 18 grandchildren joined us for a memorable few days. The glitzy surroundings were balanced out by our visit to the Grand Ole Opry and our huge family dinner at the rustic Caney Forks Fish Camp restaurant! It turned out to be our most economical anniversary, too, since they wouldn’t let us pay for a thing!
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Victory or Defeat?
For a slice of community life, there is nothing like going to a Friday night football game! We attended last night primarily for an important event during half time, a ceremony honoring the graduating senior band members. Our grandson, Adam, accompanied by his parents, would be presented along with fellow seniors and parents, on Senior Night.
Before the recognition ceremony, the band had played valiantly several stirring anthems, such as “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, in a precision marching formation across the field. We strained our eyes to see Adam, and I finally picked him out when the trumpet section separated from the others for their featured emphasis. He stood tall and proud, feet expertly executing the steps of the routine while raising his trumpet in harmonic symphony with the band.
It was a bittersweet moment for the seniors, this their farewell performance on the home field. Not only for those in the band, but for seniors in the cheerleading squad, the drill team, and of course, the football players, who were recognized prior to the game. Tears were evident among the young girls dabbing their eyes and embracing fellow cheer leaders and marching pals as they exited the field after memorable performances.
Huddled under a blanket, I had come prepared and fortified against the cold with a cushion to sit on, a throw across my lap and wearing a coat and sweater. Thankfully, it wasn’t as cold as the previous night, but as the hour grew late, the night grew colder. Most were wearing coats and jackets, many with knitted hats pulled over ears, some with blankets draping, but the young and brave were often coatless. I even saw one girl in a sleeveless, bare-necked summer top who seemed oblivious of the temperature.
Not being a football fan, I didn’t lack for entertainment just watching the cross-section of people who maintained a continuous parade in front of me back and forth to the refreshment area or just moving from place to place. I loved seeing the children, their eyes full of expectancy and excitement, milling here and there, trailing after friends and not watching the game at all. I thought of my young granddaughters probably doing the same thing at their brothers’ games in Georgia and Tennessee.
We left after half-time, so I don’t know how the game turned out, although the home team was ahead when we went home. Like the game of life, many will leave before it is over for others. Life is a series of growth and goodbyes, each level leading to higher plateaus and achievements. Since no one knows when their life might be interrupted for that final scoring, we would do well to live in a state of preparedness, ever listening for that final trumpet blast that signifies an end to life as we know it and the beginning of life everlasting.
Before the recognition ceremony, the band had played valiantly several stirring anthems, such as “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, in a precision marching formation across the field. We strained our eyes to see Adam, and I finally picked him out when the trumpet section separated from the others for their featured emphasis. He stood tall and proud, feet expertly executing the steps of the routine while raising his trumpet in harmonic symphony with the band.
It was a bittersweet moment for the seniors, this their farewell performance on the home field. Not only for those in the band, but for seniors in the cheerleading squad, the drill team, and of course, the football players, who were recognized prior to the game. Tears were evident among the young girls dabbing their eyes and embracing fellow cheer leaders and marching pals as they exited the field after memorable performances.
Huddled under a blanket, I had come prepared and fortified against the cold with a cushion to sit on, a throw across my lap and wearing a coat and sweater. Thankfully, it wasn’t as cold as the previous night, but as the hour grew late, the night grew colder. Most were wearing coats and jackets, many with knitted hats pulled over ears, some with blankets draping, but the young and brave were often coatless. I even saw one girl in a sleeveless, bare-necked summer top who seemed oblivious of the temperature.
Not being a football fan, I didn’t lack for entertainment just watching the cross-section of people who maintained a continuous parade in front of me back and forth to the refreshment area or just moving from place to place. I loved seeing the children, their eyes full of expectancy and excitement, milling here and there, trailing after friends and not watching the game at all. I thought of my young granddaughters probably doing the same thing at their brothers’ games in Georgia and Tennessee.
We left after half-time, so I don’t know how the game turned out, although the home team was ahead when we went home. Like the game of life, many will leave before it is over for others. Life is a series of growth and goodbyes, each level leading to higher plateaus and achievements. Since no one knows when their life might be interrupted for that final scoring, we would do well to live in a state of preparedness, ever listening for that final trumpet blast that signifies an end to life as we know it and the beginning of life everlasting.
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Blessing
“Thelma, look at that bird feeder!” my husband exclaims in disbelief. “I just filled it up this morning!” It was remarkable! The level of birdseed had gone down by nearly half.
“It’s the cold weather,” I say, “They are stocking up for the winter.” Sometimes they can finish the contents of the long, cylindrical feeder in a day. No doubt they will need all the reserve they can build into their fragile bodies to keep warm and maintain health to reproduce next spring.
One of Howard’s favorite hobbies is feeding and watching the birds that gather around our porch feeder and front lawn bird bath. Recently, he had forgotten to buy feed for awhile, and it seemed as if the birds had all gone south for the winter. We hadn’t seen any to speak of for days. The feeder still sat unvisited after we had filled it, and Howard was puzzled.
“The word has gotten out by bird telegraph that it’s slim pickings at our house,” I told him. “Give them a few days.” A couple of birds showed up later, and then, sure enough, it was if they had all gotten a signal through their telephone wire perch that “there is food in Egypt.”
My granddaughter, 4-year-old Anne-Marie, was heard praying recently: “Dear God, I just bless that I will dream about cowboys, and toys and princesses.” We have been hearing a teaching on “The Blessing” recently, dealing with Aaronic Blessing of Numbers 6:23-26.
The words that Aaron, the priest, was instructed by Moses to speak over the children of Israel are, “The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.” The emphasis on the teaching we heard is that we can give the blessing ourselves, as Christians. For instance, we can bless our food, bless others, etc. After all, the Bible says we are priests (1Peter 2:5,9). Many churches use that blessing today as a benediction.
Anne-Marie was blessing her dreams (maybe a good hedge against nightmares!), and Howard was blessing the birds with food. We are blessed to be a blessing!
“It’s the cold weather,” I say, “They are stocking up for the winter.” Sometimes they can finish the contents of the long, cylindrical feeder in a day. No doubt they will need all the reserve they can build into their fragile bodies to keep warm and maintain health to reproduce next spring.
One of Howard’s favorite hobbies is feeding and watching the birds that gather around our porch feeder and front lawn bird bath. Recently, he had forgotten to buy feed for awhile, and it seemed as if the birds had all gone south for the winter. We hadn’t seen any to speak of for days. The feeder still sat unvisited after we had filled it, and Howard was puzzled.
“The word has gotten out by bird telegraph that it’s slim pickings at our house,” I told him. “Give them a few days.” A couple of birds showed up later, and then, sure enough, it was if they had all gotten a signal through their telephone wire perch that “there is food in Egypt.”
My granddaughter, 4-year-old Anne-Marie, was heard praying recently: “Dear God, I just bless that I will dream about cowboys, and toys and princesses.” We have been hearing a teaching on “The Blessing” recently, dealing with Aaronic Blessing of Numbers 6:23-26.
The words that Aaron, the priest, was instructed by Moses to speak over the children of Israel are, “The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.” The emphasis on the teaching we heard is that we can give the blessing ourselves, as Christians. For instance, we can bless our food, bless others, etc. After all, the Bible says we are priests (1Peter 2:5,9). Many churches use that blessing today as a benediction.
Anne-Marie was blessing her dreams (maybe a good hedge against nightmares!), and Howard was blessing the birds with food. We are blessed to be a blessing!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
All in A Day's Work
“Our whole family has lice!” the 12-year-old announced guilelessly when I picked her up for church. What? Now she tells me! I had sat between her and her 7-year-old brother that morning, and at one point I impulsively kissed his head bending so sweetly over his Sunday School paper!
“All but me, I don’t have them!” she hurriedly added. “She couldn’t find any in my hair.” She told me her mother had looked thoroughly. Now it made sense that her younger sister told me this morning she was leaving after Sunday School for “personal reasons”!
Lice! The bane of school kids everywhere. Once in Mississippi one of my kids pointed out a woman at a garage sale, saying, “Oh no! The Lice Lady!” It was the dignified public health nurse who had earned that moniker by checking heads at school.
Maybe I should tell the pastor’s wife, if she doesn’t already know. What a delicate subject and situation! I had read that they are not spread by hats and scarves or using others’ combs and brushes, but by direct head-to-head contact. (Is my head itching, or am I just imagining it?)
Just yesterday I was reading the Bible portion of the one-year reading plan which happened to be 2 Timothy 4, Paul’s earnest exhortation to Timothy. (In it, there is a reference to “itching ears”, but not quite the same thing.) Paul was suffering in the cold, damp dungeon and reminded Timothy to bring his cloak, or coat, when he came. He also wanted the books (maybe portions of the Old Testament) and parchments, perhaps for more writing material.
Many of Paul’s “friends” had forsaken him. “Only Luke is with me,” he says in verse 11. Luke, a physician, was no doubt much comfort to him in his health needs, besides which he was a gifted writer, which had to be helpful. Paul said he was already being “poured out like a drink offering,” as his time of departure was at hand (4:21).
Kind of puts things like the risk of getting head lice from picking up Sunday School kids into perspective, doesn’t it?
“All but me, I don’t have them!” she hurriedly added. “She couldn’t find any in my hair.” She told me her mother had looked thoroughly. Now it made sense that her younger sister told me this morning she was leaving after Sunday School for “personal reasons”!
Lice! The bane of school kids everywhere. Once in Mississippi one of my kids pointed out a woman at a garage sale, saying, “Oh no! The Lice Lady!” It was the dignified public health nurse who had earned that moniker by checking heads at school.
Maybe I should tell the pastor’s wife, if she doesn’t already know. What a delicate subject and situation! I had read that they are not spread by hats and scarves or using others’ combs and brushes, but by direct head-to-head contact. (Is my head itching, or am I just imagining it?)
Just yesterday I was reading the Bible portion of the one-year reading plan which happened to be 2 Timothy 4, Paul’s earnest exhortation to Timothy. (In it, there is a reference to “itching ears”, but not quite the same thing.) Paul was suffering in the cold, damp dungeon and reminded Timothy to bring his cloak, or coat, when he came. He also wanted the books (maybe portions of the Old Testament) and parchments, perhaps for more writing material.
Many of Paul’s “friends” had forsaken him. “Only Luke is with me,” he says in verse 11. Luke, a physician, was no doubt much comfort to him in his health needs, besides which he was a gifted writer, which had to be helpful. Paul said he was already being “poured out like a drink offering,” as his time of departure was at hand (4:21).
Kind of puts things like the risk of getting head lice from picking up Sunday School kids into perspective, doesn’t it?
Monday, October 24, 2011
A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed
“You never know who God will send your way!” I remarked to our pastor as we left the service late yesterday morning. He had called the congregation to prayer, but when the last of us got up from the altar, everyone had gone except the lone figure kneeling there, still earnestly seeking God. A newcomer, in town on a short-term work assignment, he had joined those who were praying for our upcoming revival next week, but he had outlasted them all in his intercession. The minister agreed with me; it seemed the earnest young man had been sent to stand in the gap.
My words came back to me as we came out of the church last night and walked toward our car. The same friend was standing there, and I heard him say something to Howard, like “I’ve got good news and bad news.” I couldn’t hear the good news, but the bad news was, “You have a flat tire!”
Oh, no! I thought. Just that morning before we left for church, I asked Howard to see if the tire looked low to him. I thought maybe it was just the way it was sitting on the edge of lawn by the driveway. He thought it was, so he stopped and put air in it before we left town for our small church some 15 miles away. After church we had driven 12 or fifteen miles farther to eat lunch at a favorite restaurant just over the Kansas line, then all the way home and back to service tonight, not ever thinking to check the tire again!
Howard looked in the trunk for a can of tire inflator, but he and our volunteer had a hard time getting the tire to take the air. He found another can he had kept for emergencies, but as soon as they inserted the air, the tire collapsed again. “I can feel air coming from the back,” the younger man said as he put his hand behind the tire. “I think the tire has a bad place in it.” Finally, they got the tire inflated enough that they thought it would make it a few blocks to the service station to be aired up properly.
It was no use, though, as the tire had to be changed. Our good Samaritan quickly inserted the jack, Howard loosened the lug nuts, and they soon were replacing the damaged tire with the temporary one from the trunk. I was grateful for the strength of youth as our helper tightened the lugs on the bolts and made the wheel secure for travel again, although we held our breath and prayed that we would make it home safely.
Giving us his cell phone number to call if we needed to, the young man waved to us as he headed to his motel room. We followed his lights until we took our turn toward home, confident that God had indeed sent someone our way! We’re getting a new tire this morning!
My words came back to me as we came out of the church last night and walked toward our car. The same friend was standing there, and I heard him say something to Howard, like “I’ve got good news and bad news.” I couldn’t hear the good news, but the bad news was, “You have a flat tire!”
Oh, no! I thought. Just that morning before we left for church, I asked Howard to see if the tire looked low to him. I thought maybe it was just the way it was sitting on the edge of lawn by the driveway. He thought it was, so he stopped and put air in it before we left town for our small church some 15 miles away. After church we had driven 12 or fifteen miles farther to eat lunch at a favorite restaurant just over the Kansas line, then all the way home and back to service tonight, not ever thinking to check the tire again!
Howard looked in the trunk for a can of tire inflator, but he and our volunteer had a hard time getting the tire to take the air. He found another can he had kept for emergencies, but as soon as they inserted the air, the tire collapsed again. “I can feel air coming from the back,” the younger man said as he put his hand behind the tire. “I think the tire has a bad place in it.” Finally, they got the tire inflated enough that they thought it would make it a few blocks to the service station to be aired up properly.
It was no use, though, as the tire had to be changed. Our good Samaritan quickly inserted the jack, Howard loosened the lug nuts, and they soon were replacing the damaged tire with the temporary one from the trunk. I was grateful for the strength of youth as our helper tightened the lugs on the bolts and made the wheel secure for travel again, although we held our breath and prayed that we would make it home safely.
Giving us his cell phone number to call if we needed to, the young man waved to us as he headed to his motel room. We followed his lights until we took our turn toward home, confident that God had indeed sent someone our way! We’re getting a new tire this morning!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
From Generation to Generation
How sweet it is! When children and grandchildren excel, that is! Our sweet Rachel had advanced to the state championship runs. And in scarcely a month from joining the team! Only 12, she was going on her first overnight school trip for the important event some 5 hours away. Nervous, but eagerly anticipating, our granddaughter tried to get some sleep bunking with teammates the night before.
“Mama, I want to come home,” her mother heard over the phone. “My stomach hurts,” her little girl whimpered. After reassuring words, Tums, pep talks and much tossing and turning, morning came and there was nothing for it but to toe the mark. On the track, Rachel’s confidence came back, and she helped lead her team to victory. They took first among 20 schools and Rachel received her first medal! We are all so proud of her!
Another granddaughter, Michaela, was chosen to go to a leadership conference in Indianapolis, far from her home in Eastern Tennessee. Home schooled and sheltered for most of her life, she had only recently begun public high school, but her traits of industry, conscientiousness, and excellence had brought her good will and recognition from her teachers.
“Mama, this is better than church camp,” the teenager exclaimed to her mother over the phone. Our daughter, Julie, had been more nervous than Michaela about letting her go on such a long trip. “My group is all Christian, and we are having so much fun!” The orderly, well-planned seminars and workshops, for which the students wore the required black skirts and white shirts, resonated with her personality and raised her awareness of a larger, important world out there where she could be involved and make a difference. She came home bubbling with excitement.
Last night I had the pleasure of reading some of my son’s first book! How rewarding to hear his heart coming through the varied scenarios and plots he has devised in this literary work called Parables. Jamie’s travels, education and experience have come together, enriching his words and the reader’s world by seeing through his eyes. A gifted student of life, our son writes in genres of poetry, science fiction, romance and mystery through complexities made simple and entertaining, and always uplifting. No wonder I’m on a high!
“Mama, I want to come home,” her mother heard over the phone. “My stomach hurts,” her little girl whimpered. After reassuring words, Tums, pep talks and much tossing and turning, morning came and there was nothing for it but to toe the mark. On the track, Rachel’s confidence came back, and she helped lead her team to victory. They took first among 20 schools and Rachel received her first medal! We are all so proud of her!
Another granddaughter, Michaela, was chosen to go to a leadership conference in Indianapolis, far from her home in Eastern Tennessee. Home schooled and sheltered for most of her life, she had only recently begun public high school, but her traits of industry, conscientiousness, and excellence had brought her good will and recognition from her teachers.
“Mama, this is better than church camp,” the teenager exclaimed to her mother over the phone. Our daughter, Julie, had been more nervous than Michaela about letting her go on such a long trip. “My group is all Christian, and we are having so much fun!” The orderly, well-planned seminars and workshops, for which the students wore the required black skirts and white shirts, resonated with her personality and raised her awareness of a larger, important world out there where she could be involved and make a difference. She came home bubbling with excitement.
Last night I had the pleasure of reading some of my son’s first book! How rewarding to hear his heart coming through the varied scenarios and plots he has devised in this literary work called Parables. Jamie’s travels, education and experience have come together, enriching his words and the reader’s world by seeing through his eyes. A gifted student of life, our son writes in genres of poetry, science fiction, romance and mystery through complexities made simple and entertaining, and always uplifting. No wonder I’m on a high!
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