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My son's dream was finally coming true. He was going to play football as a freshman in high school. Now, they have a lot of scrimmages to get ready for the season, and the coach, of course, he uses those scrimmages to try different players at different positions. And every guy was sitting on the bench all dressed, all bruised from the practices, hoping he'd have his chance to get into the scrimmage.
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Well, you probably know the feeling too, you go in the other room to get something, and you can't remember why you went there. Until you go and sit down in the other room again, and then you remember. How many times do we do that? I guess that's the harmless kind of forgetfulness. But too many of us have had loved ones who, as the years went on, remembered less and less; sometimes even the people who loved them. When people's memory goes, they can become very easily disoriented; they can make some very bad decisions and even place themselves in great danger.
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If you look on the backside of an American nickel, you'll see a picture of it. It's that domed mansion of President Thomas Jefferson, known as Monticello. It's a living monument, really, to the genius of one of America's great minds - the author of America's Declaration of Independence.
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You know, wives love to take their husbands to weddings. Hopefully, the love-feast will jumpstart a little romance in the old boy's soul. Recently, I saw a lot of hand-holding and sitting close when Jimmy and Tanya got married. Oh, it works, girls!
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So, is a hammer a good thing or a bad thing? I guess it depends on whose hands the hammer is in. Had you put a hammer in the hands of our little grandson and turned him loose, you wouldn't like the results. He was probably going to do some damage with that thing. But I've watched that same kind of hammer do some really good things in the hands of some skilled workmen; of which I am not one. At our home, our office, I've seen a hammer used to build some things that are really useful. That same hammer in a child's hands, though, "Look out, man!"
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Oh, it happens every year! The cinema's "beautiful people." Yeah, they're there for Hollywood's annual celebration of itself. It's all about that little gold guy they call Oscar.
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Our oldest son worked as a missionary among young people in a Native American tribe in the Southwest. In his first few days there he ended up helping a Native American man weed his corn field. The tribe lives in a place where it's really tough to grow anything. I mean, corn is the most important crop, but it doesn't come easily because they're in a place where I think they only get about 10-12 inches of rain a year.
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It was right after Christmas in 2004, and Damian Barrett was on a beach in Thailand. Suddenly he saw the tide go out so quickly that the bay was drained dry. And moments later, the ocean came roaring back with that monster tsunami that claimed so many lives that day across South Asia. A massive wave swept Damian into the shopping area and then into a store which then started filling with water. He was carried to the ceiling by that rising water. He was sure he was going to die there, until the water actually pushed him through a gap in the roof.
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There's something about the Olympics that's just larger than life, and there are those images of past Olympic performances we'll never forget. One of those happened in the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona. Derek Redmond was representing Great Britain in the 400-meter event. Unfortunately, he went down on the backstretch with a torn right hamstring. And the medical attendants started to approach him, but he managed to fight his way to his feet. Maybe you remember seeing this. He set out hopping around the track, desperately trying to finish the race. When he reached the stretch, a large man in a T-shirt came out of the stands, and literally threw aside a security guard, and ran to the injured runner, and hugged him. It was Jim Redmond, Derek's father. Derek was weeping in excruciating pain, and his Dad said, "Derek, you don't have to do this." To which Derek said, "Yes, I do." And Jim Redmond said, "OK then, we're going to finish this together!" And they did. They had to fight off security men. The son's head was sometimes buried on his father's shoulder. But they stayed in Derek's lane all the way to the end - as the crowd stood and cheered and even wept.
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The florists have been looking forward to their recliners. They finally get to recover from their busiest day of the year. You know what that is, Mother's Day. Hallmark counting on all their Mother's Day card money. Phone companies getting pretty happy. It's the busiest calling day of the year. Okay, Mother's Day, well, it only lasts a day and then it's over until next year. Oh, but not their marks on your life.
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My poor children! As they were growing up, they had to listen to me speak so many times. One of those times was at a major youth convention in Laramie, Wyoming. My 12-year-old son and I were sitting together on the airplane flight back from the convention. Suddenly he said, "You know, I really liked the meetings, Dad, and I liked your speaking." Then he went on to explain, "There was something different this time, Dad. I listened this time." Great, I think. Well, I asked him what he'd learned, and what he told me was not anything, of course, that I had said at the convention. It was original from him! He said, "Well, Dad, I learned that Christianity is a lot like suntan lotion." Sure! Of course! I said, "How?" He said, "Well, if you just put one big blob of lotion on your arm or your face, it won't help much. It doesn't do much good unless you rub it in!"
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When Ebola first popped up in the United States I was watching that news story about the Dallas nurse who was the first person to ever contract Ebola in America. I was hit by a lesson that I found pretty personal to me.
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Normally, Hainan Island is thought of as a tourist attraction. But the 24 American military personnel who were held there by the Chinese in early 2001? They probably didn't feel much like tourists. As the Americans reported it, their reconnaissance plane had been disabled by a Chinese jet that had flown too close and crashed into them. The jet pilot was lost and the American crew almost was, except for some extraordinary flying that managed to land their damaged plane on that Chinese island. There were days of tense negotiations, with the Chinese insisting on an apology and the Americans insisting on the release of their crew. The stalemate was finally broken by two words that the President of the United States included in a statement to the Chinese; words that expressed our sorrow over the loss of the Chinese pilot, not over the incident. The words? Yeah, you might have guessed, "I'm sorry." That's all it took. The next day our crew was on their way home.
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It takes a little longer to pick out a cereal at the supermarket than it used to. You've got to read all the ingredients these days; all the nutrients, and how much calcium, and how much of my daily requirement of vitamin C, and vitamin X there. You know all that. Well, it's on the package. In fact, on everything we buy in the supermarket, it's there because of laws that we call "truth in packaging." Good idea.
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Buck Helm - yep, that name was one light in the darkness on October 17, 1989, the day of the tragic San Francisco earthquake. It was the day the whole freeway collapsed, burying scores of people. And just when the rescuers thought there was no life left to find, an engineer spotted movement under one heavily damaged section. Under there they found, still alive miraculously, Buck Helm, a 57-year-old longshoreman. He'd survived four days in that rubble. And I think that's why we felt so sad when word came four weeks later that Buck Helm had died suddenly in the hospital. He was rescued, but he was lost. We can't always hang onto what we save.
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A lot of my writing, including for these visits we have together, takes place while I'm on the road. There was a time my wife did a chunk of driving to some ministry events, and she did that often. So me and my little friend laptop could do some work. Now, I had about 12 hours of writing work to do and my computer battery lasted for maybe two or three hours. No problemo! Power strip that I can plug into the cigarette lighter, and when I plug Laptop into that, he's running on the power in the car, not just the power in himself. Which means there's basically no limit to what we can do together!
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My friend, Ian, is unexplainable. He may very well have been at that time the best known Christian leader in all of New Zealand. A powerful, popular speaker and he had a great Christian TV program. If you heard him speak in any public setting, you'd have been very impressed. I was, and you'd want to meet him when he came off the stage. And he would extend his hand, and probably begin to stutter. You might kinda laugh and go, "Come on, you're kidding." And then you'd realize he's not; this is serious. See, Ian had a noticeable stutter when he spoke to other people anywhere but in a large meeting. But when he got up to speak about his Lord in front of a crowd, it's just amazing. Something happened, but not necessarily something unique to him.
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Our friend Mark grew up on the farm; actually on an Ozark Mountain farm. And that means rocks in your fields! One local grandfather used to say, "Every time it rains I grow rocks in my field." Mark knows all about that. Over a period of time, his mother made him clear hundreds of rocks out of one of their fields when he was just a little guy. Well then, Mark bought some land from his mother as an adult. And as he started to work one of those fields, he was really pleasantly surprised by how amazingly rock-free it is. Then it dawned on him, this was the field he had made rock-free when he was a boy!
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It was a tough stretch for our two-year-old grandson. Mommy was expecting his soon-to-arrive baby brother, and she was sick with a respiratory infection. Normally, Mommy and Daddy were both in the room where my grandson slept. But for comfort and health reasons, Mommy had to sleep in another room for a few nights. My grandson never said anything about his mother not being there during the night, but it obviously affected him. He slept in the big bed with Daddy, but he didn't sleep much. Neither did his father of course. Every few minutes, he'd snuggle up against Daddy and just say two words until his father responded, "Daddy, hold."
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When I would tell our kids we were going to Buttermilk Falls, I could expect two equally sincere reactions: "Oh good!" and "Oh no!" See, the "oh good" part was because it was just one of the "coolest" places in our area. There was this high, cascading waterfall, tucked in a remote place that few people knew about. It was magnificent to look at and it was fun to hike around. The "oh no" part was because of the road to get to this special spot. Think moonscape - potholes big enough to swallow an old Volkswagen. You couldn't avoid these craters; they were everywhere. So you went about as slow as a car can go, bracing yourself for a big bump and then another big bump. And then you were there, and it was great!
