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Tuesday, August 3, 2004

Building a fire is one of those things a man is just supposed to know how to do. I hate to have my fire fail in front of other people frankly, so I can really empathize with my friend Rich who set out to get a fire going one winter that I was with him. He was trying to get this thing going in his fireplace when we were with him one Sunday afternoon. So, of course, he did all the right things. He rolled up the necessary amount of newspaper. He stacked logs with plenty of room for air circulation. Now, he didn't have much kindling. That was the only weakness in his fire. Well, the fire flared, and then it sputtered, and then it smoldered. So real quick, he rolled up two or three tight paper logs, and a newspaper, and that didn't do anything. Then finally, he said, I thought it was kind of strange, but he said, "I've done all I can do. Only God can start it now." We talked for about an hour without a fire, and suddenly this little flame appeared. It grew steadily, it became a really cozy fire, and Rich and I just looked at each other and smiled!

Friday, July 30, 2004

Since I was a boy, I've been a fan of Abraham Lincoln. No, I never saw him in person. I do know he was born in a log cabin, I read about him studying by candlelight, splitting rails as a young man, grieving over the death of the love of his youth, and then becoming an unlikely political leader. And then the dark days of trying to hold a nation together during the Civil War, and then, his tragic death just five days after the end of that war. His name, his life, his face - they're known around the world. But only a couple of years ago, I learned something about Abraham Lincoln's life that really thrilled my heart. I read a Lincoln scholar's description of him making a personal commitment to Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. It was during one of the darkest days of the Civil War, and God used a surprising person to lead Abraham Lincoln to saving faith.

Wednesday, July 28, 2004

I love to drive through Custer State Park in South Dakota because if you're lucky you get to see a lot of buffalo. Now, seeing them is one thing - riding them is another. We were recently in South Dakota. One important part of our ministry, of course, is reaching what one researcher called the most devastated young people in America, and we were there for an outreach among Native American young people. Reservation young people are in just great need of the Lord. We were with our Lakota Sioux Christian brother and we saw some buffalo, and we joked a little bit about hunting them, and so on. Then he said, "You know, I know someone who rides buffalo in parades and on holidays." I said, "Wait a minute. Did you say rides a buffalo?" I can't imagine boarding one of these wonderful wild animals. Well, somebody asked this buffalo rider, "What's it take?" He said, "Patience." Then he said, "If you neglect him one or two days, he won't be tamed anymore."

Tuesday, July 27, 2004

I've been told that during World War II, (which, of course, I don't remember personally), that they gave American soldiers more than bullets just before they went into combat. They also gave them a chocolate bar. It makes sense, when you think about a sugar rush, when they need all the energy they could muster. So, maybe sugar's not all that bad. Of course, if you give it to a man just before he's about to go and lie on the couch for a hour - now that's bad. That's the funny thing about sugar. You eat it, you exercise - it's energy. You eat it and just lie there - it's fat.

Monday, July 26, 2004

Telephone etiquette is usually one of the last things children learn - if they ever learn it! In fact, I sometimes kind of cringe when a child answers the phone. You never know if they're going to hang up, or if they're going to yell into the phone, "Hey, Mom!" or if they're just going to put down the phone and forget to tell anyone that you're waiting. Ah, but the daughter of a friend of ours - she is a pleasant exception. The family visited our office a while back, and when they got home, I called and the little girl answered. She's so polite, she's so coherent, she's so competent. I said, "Hey, girl, how would you like to be my secretary?" She must have seen how crazy that job is when they were in our headquarters, because she answered immediately. Oh, not with a yes - not with a no. She just said, "Uh, how about my brother?"

Friday, July 23, 2004

As a musical composition, Frederick Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus," stands in a category by itself. Few pieces of music have the power to stir our hearts like that majestic chorus that even brought the King of England to his feet the first time he heard it. But before Frederick Handel wrote the "Hallelujah Chorus" and "The Messiah" oratorio of which it's a part, he wasn't having much of a hallelujah time. He was basically broke, depressed, and against a wall. Then someone asked him to write an oratorio to be performed at this benefit concert on behalf of people who were in debtors prison - locked up because they were too poor to pay their bills. There were 700 people who contributed to be at that premiere performance of "The Messiah" and the "Hallelujah Chorus" - and 128 prisoners went free as a result!

Thursday, July 22, 2004

When I'm in a new city, I don't usually make visiting a local cemetery one of my sightseeing priorities. But I did during my recent ministry trip to Halifax, Nova Scotia. I visited the cemetery where 121 passengers of the doomed Titanic are buried; many with names still unknown. Not long after the midnight radio transmission, "Have struck iceberg," three telegraph cable repair ships were dispatched from Halifax to make the 500-mile trip to the collision site to pick up the bodies of victims. In a way, the aftermath of the sinking of the Titanic is a tale of two ships. One was the Carpathia, the ship that rescued hundreds who had made it into lifeboats, later taking them into New York Harbor. The Carpathia carried a ship full of rescued people. But not the Mackay Bennett, the first funeral ship to arrive at the scene of the sinking. All they found was 328 people, floating in their lifejackets, frozen to death. The first one they found was a little two-year-old boy, floating face up. They were devastated. By the time they sailed into Halifax Harbor with every church bell in town tolling, there were three long rows of bodies on their deck - every one a person who did not have to die. Those lifeboats had been half empty. But as the people in the water cried out for help, the people in the lifeboats just kept rowing away. So one ship carried those who had been rescued. The other ship carried those no one cared enough to rescue.

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

It was England's darkest hour. Each night the air raid sirens would wail their haunting warning that German bombers were again approaching London with their showers of death. And each night, Londoners would race to the city's bomb shelters, many of them underground in London's subway stations. When people surveyed the damage the next morning, the landscape had changed, with familiar buildings turned to rubble - and sometimes neighbors lost to the bombs. In that long dark night of the soul, Prime Minister Winston Churchill was the inspiration that kept the spirit of the British alive. Each day, he was there picking his way through the rubble, directing emergency responses, and giving encouragement wherever he could. But where was Winston Churchill when the German bombs were raining down on the city over his head, trying to bomb England into submission? In his bunker in front of a table that was covered with a map of Europe, and with his nation under brutal German bombardment, Churchill was planning the invasion of Germany!

Friday, July 9, 2004

Every once in a while we get a wakeup call regarding the meaning of the word "hero." In our culture, the word is used routinely to describe outstanding athletes. But then someone does something really heroic and we remember what the word really means. Pat Tillman, starting safety for professional football's Arizona Cardinals, gave us one of those "hero" wakeup calls. Oh, he was one that was playing on the football field, but then he shocked fans and players alike by walking away from millions of dollars to serve his country on the battlefield. He joined the Army Rangers, served on the front lines in Afghanistan, and one April day in pursuit of enemy forces, Pat Tillman was killed. He believed he was fighting for something greater than winning a game. He believed he was fighting so people could be free. And, in the eyes of millions, he gave meaning to that overused but important word - hero.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

When you have young grandchildren, you're back in the toy business again. And sure enough, we've got a closet full of toys that, contrary to some vicious rumors, are not mine. They are there for those grandchildren, who quickly relocate those toys from the closet to our living room every time they visit. One of them (the toys - not the grandchildren) is a furry blue puppet with bulging eyes - it's good old Cookie Monster of Sesame Street fame. And he's got this string in his back. When you pull it, he starts chewing and moving his arms and uttering his trademark phrase: "Cookie. Me want cookie!" Pull the string again and he'll say the same thing again. No matter how many times you pull that string, he will do the "cookie" thing every time.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

The battles were horrendous. The casualties were many. But the outcome changed everything. That's a very quick summary of the final episode of J. R. R. Tolkien's classic trilogy, "Lord of the Rings." That trilogy jumped off of dusty bookshelves and into the popular culture with their portrayal in three of the most successful movies of all time. Tolkien weaves a tale of a world called Middle Earth where these soulless, subhuman beings are attempting to stamp out the "Age of Humans." Finally, in the concluding "Return of the King," Middle Earth's rightful king, Aragorn, leads the humans in one last, all-out attempt to turn back the forces of evil. After many costly battles, there's a glorious coronation day for the triumphant king. As the crown is placed on the head of the rightful ruler before this jubilant crowd of his subjects, they know the dark days are over. And the one who crowned him makes this hope-filled announcement - "Now begin the days of the King!"

Friday, June 11, 2004

Joey's story really touched me. Joey was a boy who ran in the handicapped Olympics that were held in conjunction with the Seoul Olympics a few years ago, and as it turned out, there were only two in Joey's event. As their track event began, Joey took the lead, leaving his only competitor way behind him. Then Joey suddenly stopped in his tracks. What happened next basically melted the event announcer's heart. Well, and really mine, when I heard about it from someone who was there. When you hear about it, maybe you'll feel like I do. You'll want to be like Joey.

Wednesday, June 9, 2004

We have this one immortal photo of our youngest son. We love to look at it! He hates for us to resurrect it. It was taken when he was three years old. He was in the yard and we had set up a tent back there. And apparently, well, he wanted to help. So, as we watched out the kitchen window, he started moving poles and trying to drive stakes deeper. Then he got inside the tent and explored a little bit, and then he decided one of those tent poles needed to be better positioned. Of course, he wasn't old enough, he wasn't experienced enough to mess with what holds up a tent. So, he picked up a pole - you're probably already ahead of me here, aren't you? - and in one very sad moment, the tent came crashing down. Now about the photo: here is this very sad little boy, holding a tent pole in one hand, holding his head with the other hand and his face showing this pitiful mixture of fear and bewilderment. Poor guy! He had worked hard on this, and it just collapsed around him. I know the feeling.

Tuesday, June 8, 2004

Now, I'm not a deer hunter. I think I was brainwashed by "Bambi" a long time ago, but I tell you, something incredible happens in a lot of parts of the country when deer season opens. Some places they close school for a few days because of the deer, and in many places, it's just understood that workers aren't going to show up for work. They're going to be somewhere in the woods on Operation Buck. Unfortunately, sometimes the hunt can end in tragedy - for the hunter, I mean, not the deer.

Wednesday, June 2, 2004

I checked the bread drawer again the other morning. It's still there - not the bread drawer - I mean, the smell! See, our daughter was visiting, and she put a bagel order in with her aunt. She said, "I want an onion bagel!" See, somehow that onion bagel spent a few days in that bread drawer before it finally disappeared. Oh, the bagel's gone, but the smell is not! No, no, in fact, the taste isn't even gone. That little round stinker flavored every bagel in the drawer. They all taste like onion bagels now. I even had a bag of Starburst candies in the bread drawer. Even they taste like the onion bagel. Who would have guessed that one thing could stink up and flavor everything.

Monday, May 31, 2004

I never voted to have a dog in our house. I think they sneaked her in when I was on a trip or something, but we got one. Her name was Missy, a Shih-Tzu, and the last time she went to this dog care place, they actually registered her as "Missy Hutchcraft." Now, that is my last name. There is no family resemblance here, and I'm not sure I want to give her my last name. But I do confess that I think Missy taught me something that I might never have understood without her. I hope she's not listening. I would hate to admit this in front of her. Well, see, it was never hard to find Missy when our son was home. He was her master, so when he is at college, you never knew where you would find her in the house, but when he's home, oh, it was easy. When you have found our son, you had found Missy. He's in the living room - she's in the living room. He's in the basement - Missy's in the basement. Our son's in his room, Missy is in his room. Missy doesn't care where she is as long as she's with her master.

Friday, May 28, 2004

Well, I opened the refrigerator, and there it was - The Pig! See, years ago someone bought it, put it in the refrigerator for a while and then it disappeared. I thought he had gone to the bacon factory, but no, the pig is back! See, this pig is actually plastic, and whenever you open the door, this plastic pig starts oinking at you. It's annoying, but it does make you think about what you are about to do to yourself.

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

I don't know if there was ever a time in our son's life when he checked the mailbox so many times. Now you're thinking "Oh, a letter from a girl, huh?" No, it was grades from college. See, this was during our son's last visit home when he was going to college, and the grades for the semester just completed were supposed to be mailed to him at home. Of course, I was thinking they should have been mailed to me, because they sure mail the bills to me! Well, it got a little frustrating and as he talked with all his college friends, because they, in other parts of the country, already had their grades. And every day that they didn't come, well, he got a little more frustrated. Now why was he so eager to get his grades? He had every reason to believe that he had done very well this time. And finally, they came. Best grades by far since he started college - he was on the Dean's List! High five's all around!

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Now, I grew up in Illinois, so, well, I'm impressed by the mountains in the eastern United States. I mean the highest are around, you know, like 3,000 feet. That's pretty good for Illinois, but my friends from the Rockies think the eastern mountains are like, well, glorified hills. In Colorado, they brag about the mountains they call the 14ers - those that are over 14,000 feet. That's impressive, but when I was in Ecuador, I was awed by the volcanoes that ring the capital city of Quito, and they rule much of the countryside - like Anasana for example - 18,000 feet. It dwarfed the tallest peaks I had ever seen. And then my host really amazed me. He said, "You know, Ron, some experts believe that Anasana used to be even higher." They think it was as much as 28,000 feet high. Well, so much for Colorado's 14ers. I said, "What happened?" Well, the volcano blew its top one day, and though the eruption lasted only a short time, the damage has lasted ever since.

Monday, May 24, 2004

My son had dreamed about an old Mustang for years. I mean, the kind with four wheels, not four legs. He saw a great price advertised; he sold some of his baseball card collection, and he became the proud owner of a 1968 Mustang. Yeah, right, the kind that runs on gasoline, not oats. Right? I just wanted to make that we're clear on the Mustang thing. Now he invited me to take a drive, and I slid in. I turned the key. It whirred to life, and several nearby birds went for counseling as I started up the driveway. I mean, this thing had a roar to it! Now, when I reached the top of the driveway, I found out what I didn't like about that "cool"' car - turning it. See, I'm spoiled. I've got power steering. This car had power steering, except it was my power. When you want to turn that Mustang, it's like a total body operation. You sort of wrap yourself around it several times. You sort of call it corkscrew turning. Now, I never asked to drive the Mustang much after that. It was entirely too hard to turn!

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