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Monday, January 26, 2009

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Our daughter was just a toddler, and she'd often talk with me while I was getting ready in the morning. I'd be brushing my teeth, or shaving, or combing my hair. But one morning, unbeknownst to my wife, our daughter got in the bathroom, stood on something, and got the blade razor that I shaved with. When her mother walked in, our daughter was stroking that razor across her face, minus any shaving cream and leaving some serious scratches and scrapes behind.

Friday, January 16, 2009

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Our kids were part of the Sesame Street generation. Maybe you can hear the theme song in the back of your mind. They grew up watching what was then the most creative, groundbreaking children's program of its time. And Sesame Street always has had an interesting cast of Muppet characters to make learning more interesting. I mean, who could forget Bert and Ernie, and Mr. Snuffleupagus, and Big Bird (Who I guess he looks sort of like a canary on steroids)? And, of course, that epitome of poor hygiene, Oscar the Grouch. In case you've been culturally deprived, Oscar is this hairy creature with his big eyes and a bad attitude who lives in a garbage can. He even sings a song called, "I Love Trash." Oscar doesn't have to live in a garbage can. He chooses to. No wonder he's got a bad attitude!

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

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Not long after I got up this morning, I looked in the bathroom mirror - it wasn't very pretty. My hair had exploded during the night! (What I have!) There were whiskers that needed shaving; there were several repairs that need to be made. Maybe you have the same kind of experience when you look in the mirror in the morning. You ask yourself, "How in the world could six hours do so much damage?" Usually, what you see in the mirror involves more than just information (Oh man! Look at that skin! Look at that hair!) No, no, no, it calls for transformation! You see what you really look like and you got to work on it!

Friday, January 9, 2009

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I had to laugh as my friend Cathy told me about an experience she had at a former job, because it tells so much about how my half of the human race thinks - like men, I mean. Cathy and her boss had rented a car at the airport for a relatively short trip from the Dallas/Fort Worth airport to a nearby city. We're talking like a few minutes' drive here, but not for Cathy and her boss. No, they just kept driving in circles, retracing their steps, turning around. I mean, her boss obviously did not know where he was going. Cathy kept suggesting he stop for directions, but, "No, I know where I'm going." Of course men always do, right? She said she got to the point where she was ready to punch him if she saw this particular restaurant one more time! (Good thing she didn't!) Finally, four hours later, they got to their destination. Was this man lost? Yes. Could he admit he didn't know where he was going? No! He's a man!

Wednesday, December 7, 2009

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One day I was talking with the owner of a local pizza restaurant; a place where I am known all too well. I was there at the tail end of their rush hour, and let me tell you, this place is a zoo for about 90 minutes around noon. It was slowing down and the owner finally was able to stop to talk with me. When he asked me how I was doing, I said, "Well, I'm doing a lot better now. I had lunch!" The owner said, "I know what you mean. If I wait very late to eat lunch, I start to get shaky." I told him, "Well, I guess you're in a good place then." Actually, he corrected me. He said, "Sometimes we are so busy serving it that we don't have time to eat it ourselves!"

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

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We were adding onto our little house, and we were getting some help from good old Chuck. He's been a part of adding to our house; actually, he did most of the work. He's a wonderful Christian brother. He's a skilled builder and handyman. He's like an everyday genius - which I am not. Now the days were pretty long and we'd been leaving the house earlier than Chuck got there and returning home after dark. So, I didn't get to see him much. But every day that front porch was noticeably farther along than it was when we left that morning. I actually did get to talk to Chuck on the phone one day, and I told him that, in a way, he reminded me of the Lord. I don't actually see him, but I see the difference he's made!

Monday, January 5, 2009

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Our three-year-old grandson had found something he really liked in the Christian bookstore. He brought it to his Daddy and he told him he really wanted it. Our son-in-law said, "Well, do you have any money?" Sadly, our grandson said, "No." But his disappointment was quickly replaced with determination as he went over to this display area where they have this fake money you can buy. He marched up to the cash register with the prize he wanted and the "money" to pay for it. Dad re-entered the scene at that point and said, "Is that really money?" Finally, our grandson faced the sad reality. He said, "No. It's not really money."

Friday, January 2, 2009

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It started out as a family adventure; it ended as a family tragedy. James Reddick took his 12-year-old son and his 11-year-old daughter on a hiking expedition up on Mount Rainier in Washington State. All of a sudden, a freak snowstorm arose. It created instant blizzard conditions and hurricane force winds. With a blinding 'white out' around them, they could not go any further. Dad knew they had to create some kind of shelter. All he could do was to cut out a large hole in the ground; he used a cup from their cooking kit to do it, and then he put his children in that hole and he covered it with a tarp. But the fierce winds just kept blowing the tarp away, and that left the children exposed to that deadly storm. The father tried everything he could find to hold down the tarp, but nothing worked. Finally, in one last desperate attempt to save his children, he actually lay across that hole himself to keep the snow from blowing in. Two days later, a search party noticed the edge of a backpack. They uncovered the hole and they found the two children alive and well. But first they uncovered their father who froze to death, protecting the ones he loved.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

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If you've flown commercially, you know you have to go through a security checkpoint before you can get to your gate. And for those security personnel who man those metal detectors and X-ray machines, there is this four-letter word that they won't tolerate. Of course it's the word "bomb." I remember hearing some people behind me in the metal detector line once talking about bombs, and I gently suggested they not say that word around airport people. You can see signs everywhere warning you not to even joke about bombs. And the slightest hint of the possibility of a bomb has been known to literally shut down an airport for hours - I've been there. That's fine with me if they want to check that out. Nobody in an airport wants to hear the word "bomb" because of what that word represents. That's something that could destroy everything.

Monday, December 29, 2008

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My wife, like many women, is like "wonder woman" when it comes to rescuing clothes that seem to be ruined by a big stain. Like our sons' high school football uniforms. Hey, our colors were blue and white. Did I say white? The idea was to have those white pants as dirty as possible at the end of the game to prove that you played hard. But the idea also was to have those pants really white at the beginning of the game. So, home they came with these pants that seemed terminally stained with dirt and mud and grass stains. Now the only way my very intelligent wife would let them play football was if they agreed to wash their own uniforms - smart lady. But she showed them how to get those stains out with her magic combination of regular detergent and dishwasher detergent. Now, no matter how dirty those things had been, they came out clean. And yes, the stains were all gone.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

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Who needs Santa Claus? Our family sure doesn't. Not with our little grandson around. With the family all gathered in our living room for opening our gifts, we've got the best gift-deliverer around. Our grandson gets so excited about each gift, no matter who it's for. He identifies what name is on the tag on each present and then he runs to deliver it to them. Of course, there are certain gifts he's more excited about than others - the ones that have his name on them.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

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It was World War I, and it was Christmas Eve. The German and British soldiers were dug in just hundreds of yards apart. But it turned out to be much more than just another tense and violent night on the battlefield. It began when one German soldier began singing "Silent Night" from his trench. Pretty soon he was joined in German by many more of his fellow soldiers. Amazingly, the voices of hundreds of British soldiers began to join in the carol from their trenches. Now that has to have been a moment those soldiers never forgot - opposing armies singing "Sleep in heavenly peace" in the middle of a battlefield.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

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Every time you sing that Christmas carol, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," you sing those words, "Peace on earth and mercy mild." But if you ever watch the news or read a newspaper, you might well be asking, "Whatever happened to peace on earth?" That's a good question. Some have said that the terrorism danger for Americans has remained high, even after September 11, 2001. One national correspondent expressed on television what a lot of people are feeling. He said, "I have never in my lifetime seen such a high degree of threat to our personal security." And recent financial developments sure haven't helped that. Then you throw in dangers that you may be facing personally, medical, financial, your personal life - where's that peace that Christmas is supposed to be about?

Monday, December 22, 2008

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Like most families, Christmastime for us has always been a season of secrets, mysteries and anticipation. And sometimes even a little frustration. Like the year my wife and I decided to build a dollhouse for our daughter and then a general store for our son. We closed off the basement and we set up our workshop. The sign on the basement door said, "Closed - Christmas Workshop." But, of course, the kids could hear the construction sounds downstairs, and it drove them nuts! They begged us to tell them what we were working on. But that, of course, would have ruined everything. Even though it left them wondering, we were building something nice for them. They just couldn't see it until it was done.

Friday, December 19, 2008

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Christmas shopping is really fun for a while. But after a few stressful trips to the mall, after spending more time looking for a parking place than you do in the store, after battling the crowds and trying to find a store that still has what you're looking for, well Christmas shopping starts to lose some of its glitter. But then there's that golden moment when you walk in the house with your last installment of shopping bags, you collapse in the recliner, and you declare in a loud, triumphant voice, "I'm done with my shopping!" What a feeling!

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

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In just one year, a whole lot changed for my wife and me. We sold our home of 24 years, and we disposed of a quarter century of accumulated "stuff"! We relocated to a home way out in the country in another state after our Board decided to relocate the entire ministry to that part of the country. So, we got a new personal address, we got a new ministry address, we all have new phone numbers, and new license plates, and new co-workers. But with all the changes, there was one thing that didn't change - our e-mail address. No matter where we are, our e-mail address is always the same!

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

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Oh, laugh if you will, but when I was in high school, I sang in the chorus. Today, I'm just a backup singer; when I sing, people back up. But back in high school, we had some good times learning our parts, mastering our songs, and performing our concerts. Sometimes, if I was late for our chorus class, I could hear them warming up as I approached the chorus room. And this one warm-up was particularly monotonous: "mi,mi,mi,mi, mi, mi, mi, mi, mi." Don't change stations. I'm done. I won't do any singing. But...

Friday, December 5, 2008

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Some days you'd find me wearing a suit and tie; it's the appropriate cultural uniform for what I might be doing that day. At home, on other hand, you'd probably find me in jeans and an old shirt. Again, appropriate for the work I need to do there. If I'm in a wedding, let's say, well I'll show how much I'm willing to sacrifice for the bride and groom by wearing a tuxedo. Of course, if I go to the beach, I probably won't wear what I wear to the wedding. I change my clothes for the occasion. But there's something I wear that I never change, no matter how many times I change my clothes - my skin. I always have the same skin.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

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I will long remember some of the most thrill-packed times of my life when I was teaching our oldest son to drive. Actually, there was a strange by-product of his learning to drive - my driving improved! Over the years, you know, you get a little careless about the right way to drive, especially when you're living in the metropolitan New York area where stunt driving is like a survival skill! But knowing that my son was learning to drive, I suddenly became conscious of this pair of eyes watching me from the back seat - an impressionable teenage boy watching how his Dad holds the wheel, keeps the speed limit, changes lanes, and approaches cars from the rear. Those eyes had an effect. I ended up driving more as I'm, well, supposed to drive.

Friday, November 28, 2008

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On a recent business trip, my friend Rich found a site that advertised caverns and an Indian artifact museum. An Indian man, with his coal black hair pulled back and a face my friend described as "well-weathered," offered to take Rich on the museum tour which he thought would last about 15 minutes. Nearly two hours later, he had received an incredible history lesson on the Shawnee Nation. The guide said that the Shawnee Nation is made up of many different Indian tribes which the Shawnee have "adopted" into their nation. And several times the Shawnee man pointed out that when his tribe allows this to happen, the adopted people or person may never speak of his former tribe or nation again!

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