To the woman he said, "I will make your pains in childbearing very
severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children. Your desire
will be for your husband, and he will rule over you." To Adam he
said, "Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree
about which I commanded you, 'You must not eat from it,' "Cursed is the
ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life. Genesis 3:16-17
My job requires me to
do pre-employment physical examinations for local employers (pre-placement exams if you
know about the Americans with Disabilities Act). A few days ago, I was
looking over an applicant's exam form when my eye caught his occupation –
"laborer". It caused me to pause and think - you know, truth be known,
we are all laborers. Whether we clean septic tanks, oversee
multibillion dollar organizations, or chase protons around the Hadron
Collider in Switzerland, "through painful toil, we eat food from the
ground."
Joseph,
the earthly father of Jesus, was a laborer. He made furniture for the
people of Nazareth. For at least 15 years Jesus labored as a furniture
maker himself, before setting out as an itinerant rabbi. Jesus' first
disciples were also laborers. Most of them were fisherman, drawing
their livelihoods, not from the cursed ground, but from the Sea of
Galilee.
Because of Eve, childbirth also generally follows a
course of painful labor. The process of natural human childbirth is
hard work, and not without its share of discomfort. Most moms, however,
quickly forget the pain and hard work (at least within a few years).
Even
dying can require labor. I've had the opportunity to be present at the
deaths of several patients and family members. The final hours of the
natural dying process with the changes in respiration and circulation
often represent the final labor of the dying person. This is no more
evident than in the crucifixion death of Jesus, where His body labored
to end the pain.
So, labor is always with us – at birth, during
life, and often at death. We are indeed all laborers. Advent, however,
is when we celebrate the labor of a teenage girl in a stable in
Bethlehem 2000 years ago. We thank you Mary for your labor of love.
May
the peace of that Baby in a manger, the fruit of Mary's labor, be with
you this Christmas. Rest from your own labor. Celebrate Emmanuel!
RBL
Monday, February 23, 2015
Memory
"This is the covenant I will establish with the people of Israel
after that time, declares the Lord. I will put my laws in their minds
and write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be
my people. No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one
another, 'Know the Lord,' because they will all know me, from the least
of them to the greatest. For I will forgive their wickedness and will
remember their sins no more." Hebrews 8:10-12 NIV
God says in the New Covenant through Jesus that He will remember our sins no more. You know, that strikes me as somewhat of a miracle. Here we have our God who knows everything about us ...past, present, and future...saying that, if we but accept His New Covenant in Jesus, He'll not only forgive us but will totally wipe our slates clean and FORGET all of our sins.
September 21st is World Alzheimer's Day. My Dad died from this terrible disease, and God has allowed me to care for several others with various forms of dementia, most commonly Alzheimer's. I've seen first hand the heartbreak it brings to families. Nancy Reagan was right. It truly is "the long goodbye." I had the opportunity a few years ago to speak to a group of residents at one of our local nursing homes. The words seem to be appropriate this week as we pray for a cure for Alzheimer's Disease, and for peace among those who care for their loved ones.
"I have been amazed for some time now by the miracle of the human brain. Each of us uses only a small portion of the available nerve cells in our brains. Our brains control the involuntary aspects of our lives, like breathing and blood circulation, as well as the voluntary aspects of our lives, like our senses, our thought processes, and our memories. Our senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch keep us in tune with what's going on around us, and they also provide the input for what goes in to
our memory banks.
As we age, we sometimes lose what scientists call our short-term memories, like where we park our car in the Walmart parking lot, what we may have eaten at our last meal, or the name of someone right after he introduces himself. Scientists have found that situations to which our senses are subjected repeatedly, or those which may have more of a lasting impact even after a single exposure, tend to go into our long-term memory banks. Sometimes we affectionately refer to these deeper, long-term memories as being locked away in our hearts. My short-term memory is certainly not what it was 20 years ago. The good news is that we still keep wonderful memories locked away in our hearts – our deep, long-term memory banks.
Who can forget all the wonderful sensations that our eyes, ears, noses, tongues, and hands have brought to us over the years. Who can ever forget seeing a mountain or an ocean for the first time? Who can forget the face of your wife or husband on your wedding day? Do you remember seeing your children immediately after their births?
Can you remember falling asleep as you hear the rain falling on the roof or outside an open window? Can you remember the voice of your mother or father calling you to supper? Do you remember the silence of a snowfall? Do you still hear the giggling of your brothers and sisters as you all tried to go to sleep on Christmas Eve night? Can you remember the words of one or more of your school teachers or Sunday school teachers?
Do you remember the smells in your grandmother's kitchen on Sunday at noon when everybody gathered for dinner? Who can forget the smell of freshly cut grass, or a fragrant rose, or the air after a spring rain? Do you remember the smell of wood smoke or coal smoke in a fireplace on a cold winter night?
Can you remember the taste of hand-cranked, homemade ice cream? How about the taste of warm, homemade bread right out of your mother's oven? Who can forget the taste of grandmother's fried chicken, or watermelon in the back yard, or cotton candy at the county fair?
Do you remember the touch of your mother's hand when you were ill, or your father's strong hand on your shoulder when you were learning to ride a bicycle? Can you feel the warmth of a handmade quilt on a cold January evening? Can you still feel falling snowflakes on your tongue or a warm bath after a hard day's work? Will you ever forget the touch of your husband or wife as you walked hand in hand at the end of the day? Can you still feel the cold, wet nose of your dog as he tried to snuggle under your arm? Do you remember feeling the waters of your baptism?
You see, I believe that God wants us to keep these memories so that we'll know a little about heaven before we get there. That's why He makes sure that we store them in the deepest, most secure areas of our brains. He is especially kind in allowing us to continue to see in our mind's eye the faces of the dear ones with whom we have shared these memories so that when we see them again in heaven we will not forget them or the pleasant memories associated with them.
God also uses our senses to produce memories that remind us of His presence in our lives. In September 1996 our daughter Jennie was involved in a serious automobile accident. I can still hear the voice on the other end of the telephone as clearly as it was on that morning at 2:00 am, "Do you have a daughter named Jennie? She has been involved in a serious automobile accident." I can remember the voice of my wife as she prayed aloud in the car on the way to the scene. I can remember the flashing lights of the emergency equipment, ambulances, and helicopter. I can remember the smell of the diesel fuel from the vehicles. Most of all, I remember the voice of my daughter after she was extricated from the small truck in which two of her friends and she had been riding, "Daddy, I'm sorry," she said. I held her hand for a few seconds and then I knew that God was going to take care of her. After two major surgeries and a lot of rehabilitation, fractures of Jennie's pelvis, hip, leg and forearm began to heal. She now leads a normal life as a mother of three great kids.
I think that God allows me to hold on to the memories of this accident as a daily reminder of His presence and power in my life. He seems to know which images I need to store in long-term memory and which are OK left in short-term memory where they may get lost.
So is it really important to remember what we had for breakfast this morning or what we had for dinner last evening? I think not. The memories that are really important are locked away in our hearts – our long-term memory banks. The next time that you can't remember where you put your glasses or your sweater, remember that our God is also forgetful. Through His Son Jesus, He is able to forget all of our sins."
Peace
God says in the New Covenant through Jesus that He will remember our sins no more. You know, that strikes me as somewhat of a miracle. Here we have our God who knows everything about us ...past, present, and future...saying that, if we but accept His New Covenant in Jesus, He'll not only forgive us but will totally wipe our slates clean and FORGET all of our sins.
September 21st is World Alzheimer's Day. My Dad died from this terrible disease, and God has allowed me to care for several others with various forms of dementia, most commonly Alzheimer's. I've seen first hand the heartbreak it brings to families. Nancy Reagan was right. It truly is "the long goodbye." I had the opportunity a few years ago to speak to a group of residents at one of our local nursing homes. The words seem to be appropriate this week as we pray for a cure for Alzheimer's Disease, and for peace among those who care for their loved ones.
"I have been amazed for some time now by the miracle of the human brain. Each of us uses only a small portion of the available nerve cells in our brains. Our brains control the involuntary aspects of our lives, like breathing and blood circulation, as well as the voluntary aspects of our lives, like our senses, our thought processes, and our memories. Our senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch keep us in tune with what's going on around us, and they also provide the input for what goes in to
our memory banks.
As we age, we sometimes lose what scientists call our short-term memories, like where we park our car in the Walmart parking lot, what we may have eaten at our last meal, or the name of someone right after he introduces himself. Scientists have found that situations to which our senses are subjected repeatedly, or those which may have more of a lasting impact even after a single exposure, tend to go into our long-term memory banks. Sometimes we affectionately refer to these deeper, long-term memories as being locked away in our hearts. My short-term memory is certainly not what it was 20 years ago. The good news is that we still keep wonderful memories locked away in our hearts – our deep, long-term memory banks.
Who can forget all the wonderful sensations that our eyes, ears, noses, tongues, and hands have brought to us over the years. Who can ever forget seeing a mountain or an ocean for the first time? Who can forget the face of your wife or husband on your wedding day? Do you remember seeing your children immediately after their births?
Can you remember falling asleep as you hear the rain falling on the roof or outside an open window? Can you remember the voice of your mother or father calling you to supper? Do you remember the silence of a snowfall? Do you still hear the giggling of your brothers and sisters as you all tried to go to sleep on Christmas Eve night? Can you remember the words of one or more of your school teachers or Sunday school teachers?
Do you remember the smells in your grandmother's kitchen on Sunday at noon when everybody gathered for dinner? Who can forget the smell of freshly cut grass, or a fragrant rose, or the air after a spring rain? Do you remember the smell of wood smoke or coal smoke in a fireplace on a cold winter night?
Can you remember the taste of hand-cranked, homemade ice cream? How about the taste of warm, homemade bread right out of your mother's oven? Who can forget the taste of grandmother's fried chicken, or watermelon in the back yard, or cotton candy at the county fair?
Do you remember the touch of your mother's hand when you were ill, or your father's strong hand on your shoulder when you were learning to ride a bicycle? Can you feel the warmth of a handmade quilt on a cold January evening? Can you still feel falling snowflakes on your tongue or a warm bath after a hard day's work? Will you ever forget the touch of your husband or wife as you walked hand in hand at the end of the day? Can you still feel the cold, wet nose of your dog as he tried to snuggle under your arm? Do you remember feeling the waters of your baptism?
You see, I believe that God wants us to keep these memories so that we'll know a little about heaven before we get there. That's why He makes sure that we store them in the deepest, most secure areas of our brains. He is especially kind in allowing us to continue to see in our mind's eye the faces of the dear ones with whom we have shared these memories so that when we see them again in heaven we will not forget them or the pleasant memories associated with them.
God also uses our senses to produce memories that remind us of His presence in our lives. In September 1996 our daughter Jennie was involved in a serious automobile accident. I can still hear the voice on the other end of the telephone as clearly as it was on that morning at 2:00 am, "Do you have a daughter named Jennie? She has been involved in a serious automobile accident." I can remember the voice of my wife as she prayed aloud in the car on the way to the scene. I can remember the flashing lights of the emergency equipment, ambulances, and helicopter. I can remember the smell of the diesel fuel from the vehicles. Most of all, I remember the voice of my daughter after she was extricated from the small truck in which two of her friends and she had been riding, "Daddy, I'm sorry," she said. I held her hand for a few seconds and then I knew that God was going to take care of her. After two major surgeries and a lot of rehabilitation, fractures of Jennie's pelvis, hip, leg and forearm began to heal. She now leads a normal life as a mother of three great kids.
I think that God allows me to hold on to the memories of this accident as a daily reminder of His presence and power in my life. He seems to know which images I need to store in long-term memory and which are OK left in short-term memory where they may get lost.
So is it really important to remember what we had for breakfast this morning or what we had for dinner last evening? I think not. The memories that are really important are locked away in our hearts – our long-term memory banks. The next time that you can't remember where you put your glasses or your sweater, remember that our God is also forgetful. Through His Son Jesus, He is able to forget all of our sins."
Peace
Trust
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." Proverbs 3:5
It's been a few weeks since I've posted anything here on the site, and I suspect that some of you had hoped that maybe I had moved on. Not so. I'm back. Actually, I took a week off from work last month. My wife and one of my daughters decided that I needed to go on a Western Caribbean cruise. Ordinarily, if I take a week off, I generally like to finish up some projects at home or go to a warm beach somewhere with internet access. I like to dabble in writing code for Linux and to play with AutoCad and Adobe software.
Well, cruise ships generally have internet access, but it's expensive for any significant band width. So, I was left with sitting on the deck watching the Gulf of Mexico go by, long talks with my wife (not so bad), and reading. Now, I have never been one who reads for pleasure, unlike the rest of my family. But during this one week, I read four books - more than I had read in one summer since the summer reading contests at the Hopkins County Library when I was at Pride Avenue Elementary school. I read A Briefer History of Time by Stephen Hawking, Jesus Wants to Save Christians and Love Wins by Rob Bell, and Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I can honestly say that I would recommend all four. Of course, you need a curious but open mind to appreciate any of them, especially the Stephen Hawking book about cosmology for dummies.
Love Wins has created quite a stir on the Christian blog sites since even before it was released. I thoroughly enjoyed the book because Bell openly and scripturally discusses many of the topics that a lot of us more conservative folks have been hesitant to bring out of the closet. More than anything, the book focuses on a God who cannot be put in a box, who loves us more than we can imagine, and who will stop at nothing to have a loving relationship with everyone who has ever lived and who will ever live in the future.
Love Wins, Jesus Wants to Save Christians, and Crazy Love are all about the ministry of Jesus and His commandments to love God with all of our being and to love our neighbors (friends and enemies) as ourselves. Often times, nonChristians seem to do a better job of loving neighbors than we who are believers. The books are also about the Kingdom of God being here and now.
As I reflected on the message of each book, I decided that the lesson of the week for me was "trust" - trust in a God whose very nature is love and who was there at the beginning of time, no matter what exactly happened next; and trust in His son, Jesus, who taught us how to live and to care for one another. Oh yeah, He also took on the sins of all those who came before Him and those of us who have come since. He was put to death by "religious" people like us, whom He loved dearly. He walked out of the tomb, having reconciled all people back into the relationship that God had intended, and lives with us still through His Holy Spirit.
I also learned to trust that a 17 story floating hotel will neither roll over nor sink, that (2) 23,000 horsepower propulsion systems are enough if one breaks down, that there are no Somali pirates near the Cayman Islands, and that the nice fellow from Mumbai who serves the scrambled eggs does not have Norwalk virus.
RBL
ps. Speaking of God's love, you may want to check out this post by David Ewart, "What Does God Do with a Dead Terrorist?"
It's been a few weeks since I've posted anything here on the site, and I suspect that some of you had hoped that maybe I had moved on. Not so. I'm back. Actually, I took a week off from work last month. My wife and one of my daughters decided that I needed to go on a Western Caribbean cruise. Ordinarily, if I take a week off, I generally like to finish up some projects at home or go to a warm beach somewhere with internet access. I like to dabble in writing code for Linux and to play with AutoCad and Adobe software.
Well, cruise ships generally have internet access, but it's expensive for any significant band width. So, I was left with sitting on the deck watching the Gulf of Mexico go by, long talks with my wife (not so bad), and reading. Now, I have never been one who reads for pleasure, unlike the rest of my family. But during this one week, I read four books - more than I had read in one summer since the summer reading contests at the Hopkins County Library when I was at Pride Avenue Elementary school. I read A Briefer History of Time by Stephen Hawking, Jesus Wants to Save Christians and Love Wins by Rob Bell, and Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I can honestly say that I would recommend all four. Of course, you need a curious but open mind to appreciate any of them, especially the Stephen Hawking book about cosmology for dummies.
Love Wins has created quite a stir on the Christian blog sites since even before it was released. I thoroughly enjoyed the book because Bell openly and scripturally discusses many of the topics that a lot of us more conservative folks have been hesitant to bring out of the closet. More than anything, the book focuses on a God who cannot be put in a box, who loves us more than we can imagine, and who will stop at nothing to have a loving relationship with everyone who has ever lived and who will ever live in the future.
Love Wins, Jesus Wants to Save Christians, and Crazy Love are all about the ministry of Jesus and His commandments to love God with all of our being and to love our neighbors (friends and enemies) as ourselves. Often times, nonChristians seem to do a better job of loving neighbors than we who are believers. The books are also about the Kingdom of God being here and now.
As I reflected on the message of each book, I decided that the lesson of the week for me was "trust" - trust in a God whose very nature is love and who was there at the beginning of time, no matter what exactly happened next; and trust in His son, Jesus, who taught us how to live and to care for one another. Oh yeah, He also took on the sins of all those who came before Him and those of us who have come since. He was put to death by "religious" people like us, whom He loved dearly. He walked out of the tomb, having reconciled all people back into the relationship that God had intended, and lives with us still through His Holy Spirit.
I also learned to trust that a 17 story floating hotel will neither roll over nor sink, that (2) 23,000 horsepower propulsion systems are enough if one breaks down, that there are no Somali pirates near the Cayman Islands, and that the nice fellow from Mumbai who serves the scrambled eggs does not have Norwalk virus.
RBL
ps. Speaking of God's love, you may want to check out this post by David Ewart, "What Does God Do with a Dead Terrorist?"
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Kids Say the Darndest Things
At that time Jesus said, "I praise you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children." Matthew 11:25 NIV
“Kids Say the Darndest Things” was an important segment of the Art Linkletter House Party on radio and television from 1945 until 1970. Bill Cosby hosted a TV show by the same name from 1998 until 2000. Both men exploited the innocence and lack of inhibition of 4 to 7 year old children to coax some really funny comments. My wife taught preschool for several years. She used to keep a journal of funny comments, although she never had to encourage any of them. During the final program for parents at the end of the school year she would share some of those comments. One that I’ve never forgotten was when Lillie Ann invited A.J. to go to McDonald’s for lunch because her dad had “catched him a job.”
I’ve heard that grandchildren are the reward for not killing your own kids. We now have eight rewards and I love them all. A couple of years ago I was sitting in the stands during one of Jack’s first T-ball practices. He fouled off one pitch straight up in the air. When it came down it struck him on the top of his batting helmet. His only comment was, “Hmmm. I guess that’s why they make you wear these hats.” Not long after that he was in church participating in the Junior Sermon. The youth leader asked the group, “What do you have to do to get into Heaven?” Jack raised his hand and when called upon stated, “Well, of course, first you have to die.” As you can imagine, all the “concrete-thinking” adults in the worship service that day thought that was pretty funny…but wasn’t that just what Jesus told Nicodemus in John 3:3 "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again." We must die to our old self-centered ways and be reborn of water and the Spirit.
Earlier this year Ella and her mom were getting ready for bed and talking about what they needed to pray for. After going through an extensive list, Jennie suggested that they should pray to have Jesus live in their hearts. Ella responded, “Mom, if Jesus were to live in my heart, He would stick out all over.” Jennie assured her that “sticking out all over” is exactly what Jesus wants to do. After all, didn’t He say “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if I stick out all over (actually, if you love one another).” John 13:35 NIV
Kids do say the darndest things, but listen carefully. What sounds like a “concrete thought” may end up carrying an abstract message. Remember the words of Jesus, “I praise you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.”
Anyone want to teach the preschool Sunday School class this summer?
“Kids Say the Darndest Things” was an important segment of the Art Linkletter House Party on radio and television from 1945 until 1970. Bill Cosby hosted a TV show by the same name from 1998 until 2000. Both men exploited the innocence and lack of inhibition of 4 to 7 year old children to coax some really funny comments. My wife taught preschool for several years. She used to keep a journal of funny comments, although she never had to encourage any of them. During the final program for parents at the end of the school year she would share some of those comments. One that I’ve never forgotten was when Lillie Ann invited A.J. to go to McDonald’s for lunch because her dad had “catched him a job.”
I’ve heard that grandchildren are the reward for not killing your own kids. We now have eight rewards and I love them all. A couple of years ago I was sitting in the stands during one of Jack’s first T-ball practices. He fouled off one pitch straight up in the air. When it came down it struck him on the top of his batting helmet. His only comment was, “Hmmm. I guess that’s why they make you wear these hats.” Not long after that he was in church participating in the Junior Sermon. The youth leader asked the group, “What do you have to do to get into Heaven?” Jack raised his hand and when called upon stated, “Well, of course, first you have to die.” As you can imagine, all the “concrete-thinking” adults in the worship service that day thought that was pretty funny…but wasn’t that just what Jesus told Nicodemus in John 3:3 "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again." We must die to our old self-centered ways and be reborn of water and the Spirit.
Earlier this year Ella and her mom were getting ready for bed and talking about what they needed to pray for. After going through an extensive list, Jennie suggested that they should pray to have Jesus live in their hearts. Ella responded, “Mom, if Jesus were to live in my heart, He would stick out all over.” Jennie assured her that “sticking out all over” is exactly what Jesus wants to do. After all, didn’t He say “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if I stick out all over (actually, if you love one another).” John 13:35 NIV
Kids do say the darndest things, but listen carefully. What sounds like a “concrete thought” may end up carrying an abstract message. Remember the words of Jesus, “I praise you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.”
Anyone want to teach the preschool Sunday School class this summer?
Springtime in Kentucky
Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ,
To God's elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood:
Grace and peace be yours in abundance. 1 Peter 1:1-2 NIV
“What a wondrous time is spring, when all the trees are budding;
The birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming.
That's how it is with God's love;
Once you've experienced it, you want to sing, "It's fresh like spring";
You want to pass it on.” Kurt Kaiser, 1969
Don’t you love the beauty of the Kentucky springtime? It’s almost as if God has taken the drab canvas of winter and splattered it with a million colors. First the crocus, forsythia, and pear trees; then the redbuds, jonquils, and dogwoods; and now the azaleas, tulips, irises, roses, and hundreds of other flowers.
My wife loves to play in the dirt, especially when it comes to caring for flowers and shrubs. Over the years she has learned which plants need more shade and which ones need more sun; which ones need more water and which ones don’t need soaking; which ones need more acid soil and which ones do better when the pH is higher; and on and on. She has also learned which ones need pruning or dividing in order to live and grow.
The new growth and colors in the spring remind me of the rebirth that we Christians should pray for daily. Each day we need the Holy Spirit to trim away more of our self-centeredness in order for us to become more Christ-centered. This is the process of Sanctification of which Peter spoke – dying a bit more each day to self in order to be reborn more Christlike. It’s the process of maturing as a Christian. Through our practices of prayer, study, worship, and Christian action the Holy Spirit is able to prune, shape, and mold us into the image of Jesus. Of course, we’ll never get there in this life, but we’re called to walk the path.
This process of pruning to become more Christlike is obviously not pain free, but necessary if we are to bear the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness. So as we enjoy the beautiful Kentucky springtime, let it remind us that we too are to be reborn, not only each spring, but each and every day a little more in the likeness of our Lord and Savior Jesus.
To God's elect, strangers in the world, scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood:
Grace and peace be yours in abundance. 1 Peter 1:1-2 NIV
“What a wondrous time is spring, when all the trees are budding;
The birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming.
That's how it is with God's love;
Once you've experienced it, you want to sing, "It's fresh like spring";
You want to pass it on.” Kurt Kaiser, 1969
Don’t you love the beauty of the Kentucky springtime? It’s almost as if God has taken the drab canvas of winter and splattered it with a million colors. First the crocus, forsythia, and pear trees; then the redbuds, jonquils, and dogwoods; and now the azaleas, tulips, irises, roses, and hundreds of other flowers.
My wife loves to play in the dirt, especially when it comes to caring for flowers and shrubs. Over the years she has learned which plants need more shade and which ones need more sun; which ones need more water and which ones don’t need soaking; which ones need more acid soil and which ones do better when the pH is higher; and on and on. She has also learned which ones need pruning or dividing in order to live and grow.
The new growth and colors in the spring remind me of the rebirth that we Christians should pray for daily. Each day we need the Holy Spirit to trim away more of our self-centeredness in order for us to become more Christ-centered. This is the process of Sanctification of which Peter spoke – dying a bit more each day to self in order to be reborn more Christlike. It’s the process of maturing as a Christian. Through our practices of prayer, study, worship, and Christian action the Holy Spirit is able to prune, shape, and mold us into the image of Jesus. Of course, we’ll never get there in this life, but we’re called to walk the path.
This process of pruning to become more Christlike is obviously not pain free, but necessary if we are to bear the fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness. So as we enjoy the beautiful Kentucky springtime, let it remind us that we too are to be reborn, not only each spring, but each and every day a little more in the likeness of our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Pass it on.
A Taste of Easter
Have the long winter and the cold March rains put a damper on your Lenten excitement? If so, try a dose of this little tune about Mary's first Easter morning written by Gloria Gaither and performed by Sandi Patty and Louisville's own Larnelle Harris. The video is from a Gaither Homecoming at the Kennedy Center in 1999. If you're still not excited about Easter after you listen to this, you'd better check your pulse. The late Vestal and Howard Goodman seemed to enjoy it.
Friday, July 9, 2010
A Tribute to Richard
“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-6 NIV)"
And now the end is near, and so I face the final curtain. My friend, I’ll say it clear. I’ll state my case of which I’m certain. I’ve lived a life that’s full. I’ve traveled each and every highway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” These lyrics were written in 1968 by Paul Anka for a French tune “Comme d’habitude.” The song “My Way” is often quoted as being the most remade song in history, but its real popularity came from recordings by “Old Blue Eyes,” Frank Sinatra and “The King,” Elvis Presley. I doubt that Paul Anka ever met Richard, but this song should have been dedicated to him.
Richard was a cantankerous fellow. For him there were only two ways to do anything – his way and the wrong way. There was only one appropriate route from his apartment to the post office. He refused to have his mail delivered, choosing instead to have someone drive him to the post office 3 or 4 times each week. He also had routines for doing his banking and for shopping at his chosen market, pharmacy, and restaurant. During the 2009 ice storm, he had to move from his apartment to the Red Cross shelter. Trying to be helpful, I went to a pharmacy and bought him some over-the-counter antacid tablets, since he chewed up several each day. He promptly informed me that I had bought the wrong brand and I would need to go to his pharmacy and get the right brand. It wasn’t that Richard didn’t appreciate assistance; it just always boiled down to the two ways to do anything.
Cantankerous, yes, but devoted. He was devoted to his God and to his church family. When he was healthy, he rarely missed Sunday School or Worship Services. In Sunday School class, you could always anticipate that Richard would have an answer or an opinion, and he was always happy to share them. He was also devoted to his wife. When Louise’s health began to fail, Richard was always at her side. He gave real meaning to the vow “For better or worse; for richer or poorer; in sickness or in health.” Richard was a writer. He wrote about his life experiences and about his daily walk with Jesus. As with his opinions, he liked to share his writings with others. At his funeral, Lon shared an excerpt from one of Richard’s writings about the Body of Christ. He wrote, “We are all like beautiful musical instruments, beautiful but worthless. Worthless until we are played by the Great Musician.” There is no doubt that Richard was played by the Great Musician. In the symphony of life, I tend to picture him as a bassoon, much like the Grandfather in Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf.”
As with the death of anyone in our church family, Richard’s death will leave a hole, much more than just an empty seat on Sunday mornings. We have lost a sound in our orchestra. We thank God, however, for the lessons He taught us through the life of Richard Dunham: devotion to God, family, and church; journaling our life experiences; not being timid in sharing our love for Jesus; and, of course, patience.
“Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention. I did what I had to do, and saw it through without exemption. I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” Father, we thank you for sharing Richard with us and for showing us how, through Jesus, Your way can become our way. Oh, and if you don’t already know by now, he likes the “Extra Strength Antacid Tablets” from RiteAid.
And now the end is near, and so I face the final curtain. My friend, I’ll say it clear. I’ll state my case of which I’m certain. I’ve lived a life that’s full. I’ve traveled each and every highway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” These lyrics were written in 1968 by Paul Anka for a French tune “Comme d’habitude.” The song “My Way” is often quoted as being the most remade song in history, but its real popularity came from recordings by “Old Blue Eyes,” Frank Sinatra and “The King,” Elvis Presley. I doubt that Paul Anka ever met Richard, but this song should have been dedicated to him.
Richard was a cantankerous fellow. For him there were only two ways to do anything – his way and the wrong way. There was only one appropriate route from his apartment to the post office. He refused to have his mail delivered, choosing instead to have someone drive him to the post office 3 or 4 times each week. He also had routines for doing his banking and for shopping at his chosen market, pharmacy, and restaurant. During the 2009 ice storm, he had to move from his apartment to the Red Cross shelter. Trying to be helpful, I went to a pharmacy and bought him some over-the-counter antacid tablets, since he chewed up several each day. He promptly informed me that I had bought the wrong brand and I would need to go to his pharmacy and get the right brand. It wasn’t that Richard didn’t appreciate assistance; it just always boiled down to the two ways to do anything.
Cantankerous, yes, but devoted. He was devoted to his God and to his church family. When he was healthy, he rarely missed Sunday School or Worship Services. In Sunday School class, you could always anticipate that Richard would have an answer or an opinion, and he was always happy to share them. He was also devoted to his wife. When Louise’s health began to fail, Richard was always at her side. He gave real meaning to the vow “For better or worse; for richer or poorer; in sickness or in health.” Richard was a writer. He wrote about his life experiences and about his daily walk with Jesus. As with his opinions, he liked to share his writings with others. At his funeral, Lon shared an excerpt from one of Richard’s writings about the Body of Christ. He wrote, “We are all like beautiful musical instruments, beautiful but worthless. Worthless until we are played by the Great Musician.” There is no doubt that Richard was played by the Great Musician. In the symphony of life, I tend to picture him as a bassoon, much like the Grandfather in Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf.”
As with the death of anyone in our church family, Richard’s death will leave a hole, much more than just an empty seat on Sunday mornings. We have lost a sound in our orchestra. We thank God, however, for the lessons He taught us through the life of Richard Dunham: devotion to God, family, and church; journaling our life experiences; not being timid in sharing our love for Jesus; and, of course, patience.
“Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention. I did what I had to do, and saw it through without exemption. I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” Father, we thank you for sharing Richard with us and for showing us how, through Jesus, Your way can become our way. Oh, and if you don’t already know by now, he likes the “Extra Strength Antacid Tablets” from RiteAid.
Facebook vs. City Cafe
"All over the world this gospel is bearing fruit and growing, just as it has been doing among you since the day you heard it and understood God's grace in all its truth." Colossians 1:6 NIV
I grew up in Madisonville. Most of my relatives, however, have lived in the South – south Hopkins County, that is. In fact, both sets of grandparents, two aunts and uncles, and two cousins all live or lived in greater Mortons Gap. In the 50’s and 60’s, my grandmother Lottie and her sister Mary owned and operated the City Café in downtown Mortons Gap. Their chef was a lady named Florence who could cook anything as long as it could be fried in lard. Of course this was before the age of cholesterol enlightenment. I always liked to go to the City Café. From the hamburgers and fries to the chocolate and coconut cream pies with mile-high meringue (that sat in a three-level glass display case on the counter), it was my favorite place to eat.
When I was younger, we would go to the City Café on Friday nights after visiting Claude’s Barbershop for my bi-weekly flat top. If there weren’t too many patrons in the café, I would put ashtrays (once again, before enlightenment) under the back legs of one of the pinball machines. By flattening out the surface, I could play all night for a nickel. Tommy, the pinball wizard, really didn’t have much on me.
As I grew up, I found that the City Café was a great place to learn what was going on. At lunch, L&N train crews, local business people, miners from White City Mine, and many town folk would gather for one of Florence’s famous hot plate lunches. You could always find out who had been sick, whose kids were going where to college, which families were planning weddings, who had joined which church, and who might need a little help. There was the essence of a caring community right there in the City Café at noon.
Sadly, the City Café is a thing of the past. A lot of community building, beyond that occurring in church worship services and social events, now often comes from electronic communication such as e-mail and social networking websites. Recent studies have shown that both Facebook and Twitter are fairly popular with adults, while MySpace is more popular with kids. Most churches now have websites, blog sites, Facebook pages, Twitter accounts, and YouTube accounts. Even Pope Benedict XVI is encouraging Roman Catholic priests to use the “rich menu of options” of the internet to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My training is in engineering and I still have some slide rules around. I could probably even find an old pocket protector if I look in the desk drawers. I’m really a geek at heart, but I still miss the smiles, handshakes, and face-to-face communication of the City Café. I also miss the warm chocolate pie with a slice of butter on top and a glass of cold milk.
I can't imagine that it's too important to God "how" we spread the Gospel of Jesus and "how" we care for one another, as long as we "just do it." After all, He posted the first blog over 3400 years ago on a couple of tablets (not iPads) held by Moses. That blog is still the best guide for our lives today. By the way, you can follow FPC on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Blogger.
See ya in church and catch ya in cyberspace.
I grew up in Madisonville. Most of my relatives, however, have lived in the South – south Hopkins County, that is. In fact, both sets of grandparents, two aunts and uncles, and two cousins all live or lived in greater Mortons Gap. In the 50’s and 60’s, my grandmother Lottie and her sister Mary owned and operated the City Café in downtown Mortons Gap. Their chef was a lady named Florence who could cook anything as long as it could be fried in lard. Of course this was before the age of cholesterol enlightenment. I always liked to go to the City Café. From the hamburgers and fries to the chocolate and coconut cream pies with mile-high meringue (that sat in a three-level glass display case on the counter), it was my favorite place to eat.
When I was younger, we would go to the City Café on Friday nights after visiting Claude’s Barbershop for my bi-weekly flat top. If there weren’t too many patrons in the café, I would put ashtrays (once again, before enlightenment) under the back legs of one of the pinball machines. By flattening out the surface, I could play all night for a nickel. Tommy, the pinball wizard, really didn’t have much on me.
As I grew up, I found that the City Café was a great place to learn what was going on. At lunch, L&N train crews, local business people, miners from White City Mine, and many town folk would gather for one of Florence’s famous hot plate lunches. You could always find out who had been sick, whose kids were going where to college, which families were planning weddings, who had joined which church, and who might need a little help. There was the essence of a caring community right there in the City Café at noon.
Sadly, the City Café is a thing of the past. A lot of community building, beyond that occurring in church worship services and social events, now often comes from electronic communication such as e-mail and social networking websites. Recent studies have shown that both Facebook and Twitter are fairly popular with adults, while MySpace is more popular with kids. Most churches now have websites, blog sites, Facebook pages, Twitter accounts, and YouTube accounts. Even Pope Benedict XVI is encouraging Roman Catholic priests to use the “rich menu of options” of the internet to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My training is in engineering and I still have some slide rules around. I could probably even find an old pocket protector if I look in the desk drawers. I’m really a geek at heart, but I still miss the smiles, handshakes, and face-to-face communication of the City Café. I also miss the warm chocolate pie with a slice of butter on top and a glass of cold milk.
I can't imagine that it's too important to God "how" we spread the Gospel of Jesus and "how" we care for one another, as long as we "just do it." After all, He posted the first blog over 3400 years ago on a couple of tablets (not iPads) held by Moses. That blog is still the best guide for our lives today. By the way, you can follow FPC on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Blogger.
See ya in church and catch ya in cyberspace.
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