Back and Forth

Making the trip home for the Christmas season is always full of exciting and eye opening experiences. We get to reconnect with family, learn new gossip, and take in the sights around the upstate area of South Carolina. One afternoon, we were looking for something to do to break the monotonous cycle of sleep, eat, nap, eat, and sleep. We hopped in the van and took off. We were officially galavanting. Tromping is something that is accomplished on foot, whereas galavanting is done by motor vehicle. We took off to the great metropolis of Greer, S.C. Many changes had taken place, all were providing sensory overload to my eyes. We all grow accustomed to things looking the same along the roads of our lives. During youth, it seems that these changes will never come. Now, as middle age is starred on the calendar...it is much easier to see and understand change...progress...and nostalgia.

We road past a new, high tech, twenty pump service station. Twenty five years ago, when I first learned to drive, I would drive up to this spot. Then, it had two pumps, and I was greeted by a large, Hitchcockesque man. His name was Mr. Coggins, and his jowls went on for days. I knew him because he was the home plate umpire in our church league games at Victor and Gibson ball fields. He would respond to my driving over the bell activated hose, and ask, "Fill 'er up?" While he was "fillenerup", I would pop the hood and he would look underneath. Checking the vitals of my 1985 Grand Prix. "Oil is a little low, son...I will put in a quart. Needs a little fluid too." Somehow, he was always able to time all this just right with the clicking off of the pump, and I always got a free window wash and squeegee too. Mr. Coggins is long gone now, and so is this personal service from another place in time.

We drove to my old elementary school in Holly Springs. Looking at the kindergarten playground, I was moved by how small it really was. Many yesterdays ago, it was massive and held the famous activities of sliding, swinging and the ever-popular kiss chase. The back fence was home for honeysuckles meant for suckling, even at the warnings of them being sprayed with pesticide. I guess it was OK that we were disobedient. I do not see that there were any long term effects from honeysuckle pesticide exposure.

We looked at the old area that was the exercise spot. There were different sized and colored tractor tires, buried halfway in the ground. These were great for climbing in, through, and over. Mr. Winters, our P.E. teacher, told us that he planted some magic rubber beans, and these tires sprouted up one night. I guess that many years later, the school district planted some school addition beans...as now the tires are covered with more school.

Families have changed too, as the elders are getting more elderly, the kids now have kids of their own and see the pure pleasure on the faces of the grandparents. Pleasure based on being proud, and on the fact that their kids now know what it is like to have and love and be frustrated and flooded with joy with their own children.

We drove to a nursing home to visit an elderly aunt, who is dying slowly, but still can smile. I told an old story that gave her the chance to recall times gone by. As I fed her a peanut butter cup, a tear slowly passed down her cheek. I am unsure if it was the sweetness of the treat, or the treat of the sweet memory of days long ago.

Changes...all around. But yet, there are some constants too. We ate, slept, played games, had fun, argued a little. We were annoyed by some things and inspired by others. We realized that we had something special with our families, and even realized that the aggravating things are also the same things that make each moment special. One day, perhaps I will be the elderly one, recalling a memory of the Christmas of 2006, and I will sigh deeply, and shed a tear.

What does this have to do with a sermon?At the close of this year, we look back. Some of us are filled with regret, anger, and pain. We cannot wait for the New year to roll around and give us a clean slate. Others are filled with joy and thanksgiving for the year that is to come, but have no idea, that this next year will be so very difficult and painful. Perhaps for some of us, this next year will usher in the end of our earthly life. The headstone above our grave will read...died 2007.

In this time of buying new calendars, getting new day planners, and trying to remember how to write the correct year on our checks and legal documents it is good that we can focus on that which is not changing. On this last Sabbath of 2006, I want to leave you with a verse to hold on to. This verse is one that hopefully will be carried throughout 2007, as well. Hebrews 13:8 says, Jesus is the same, yesterday...today...and forever. I need to know this...and I feel that you need it too.

Jesus, the healer, can still heal. Jesus, the redeemer, can still redeem. Jesus, the interceder, can still intercede. Jesus, the friend, is still friendly. Jesus, the forgiver, still forgives. Jesus, the restorer, still restores. Jesus, the author of our faith, is still writing. Jesus, the Lord, is still Lord. Jesus, the King, still reigns.

Gas station...Gone. Tires on the playground...Gone. The vitality of youth...Gone. Oh...but Beloved of God, be of Good cheer...Jesus is the SAME. He is still here, and longs to have fellowship with you. He longs to give you peace, a new start, a clean slate, a new calendar...a new life. I need that...what about you?

Afterward, a gentleman approached me. He said that he had his thumb sticking in his bible during the prayers, announcements, and songs. During the sermon, he opened the bible, just where his thumb had been. He looked down and saw these words,"Jesus is the same, Yesterday...Today...and Forever." Hmm...perhaps we are on to something?

Ornamentally Speaking: Misfits

Each year, families re-familiarize themselves with the ritual of dragging out the boxes of Christmas decorations. We had ours stored in very large boxes, that originally had been home to automotive parts. Dad was a mechanic at a local Pontiac dealership, and his idea of storage was to cram as much stuff into one box so that there would be less to unload. There was one problem with that idea...I was often the one given the task to bring the boxes downstairs. First, I had to move the washing machine out of the way, in order to get to the boxes, not so conveniently tucked in the closet behind. Then I had to wrestle with the box, which through the years had become beaten up and lacking necessary side wall strength. Followed by a short trek down a hall with the right side filled with pictures on the wall...always inviting and courting a date with disaster courtesy of the GM part box. The last step was down the steps that I spoke about last week. This process of stair navigation was the equivalent of putting 350 pounds into a small girdle; not a pleasant sight. This event always ended with a culling of the antique broken ornaments that had been placed in the box the previous year. In retrospect...not the brightest of ideas.



Each family has their own ritual of decoration. Or decorating time was the day after Thanksgiving each year, and the decorations would be taken down before the new year. "It is bad luck to have Christmas decorations up after January first", I can still hear my mom say. I though there was some unholy connection between black-eyed peas, cornbread, collard greens and Christmas trees. Only later did I realize that this was simple parental motivation to get things in the house back in order for the year that was just beginning.



The in-laws always decorate on Christmas or afterward. This is very odd to me, but this ritual was necessitated by Sarah's mom working in retail. Her father was busy and usually did not have time. Two years ago there was even the case of the missing tree, at the Bedenbaugh house. When it was located, Sarah and I decorated it when we got there for the holidays...sometime around December 27.



This season is full of ritual and ceremony. My favorite has been even more enjoyable this year. This is the first year that Douglas has been interested in watching the Christmas Classics: Frosty the Snowman, The Little Drummer Boy, The Year without a Santa Claus, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and the best Christmas movie of all time...Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.
Rudolph has always been my favorite; barely eking out How the Grinch stole Christmas. I still cannot resist singing the sinister song describing the Grinch, in the cartoon classic:

You're a mean one Mr. Grinch

You really are a heel.

You're as cuddly as a cactus,

And as charming as an eel,Mr. Grinch.

You're a bad banana,

With a greasy black peel!

You're a monster, Mr. Grinch!

Your heart's an empty hole.

Your brain is full of spiders.

You've got garlic in your soul,Mr. Grinch!

I wouldn't touch you

With a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!

You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch!

You have termites in your smile.

You have all the tender sweetness

of a seasick crocodile,Mr. Grinch!

Given the choice between the two of you,

I'd take the seasick crocodile!

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch.

You're a nasty, wasty skunk!

Your heart is full of unwashed socks.

Your soul is full of gunk,Mr. Grinch!

The three words that best describe you

Are as follows, and I quote,"Stink, stank, stunk!"

Each year, my sister calls and reminds me that it is on; always a holiday treat.

Rudolph is the true launching point for the sermon today. Each week I have held up an ornament before you and talked about the memories that it evokes. Today, we have before us an ornament from the Rudolph collection. Do you all know who this little fellow is?

Hermie is a kindred spirit to Rudolph. They were both Misfits. It seems that all of humanity is aware of the malady of Rudolph. Do we remember the issue with Hermie? He was one of Santa's elves, but his heart just wasn't in in. He wanted to be a dentist. He was ostracised and ridiculed and eventually took off away from Christmas Town with Rudolph. They ended up on the Island of Misfit toys where they encountered several other oddballs: a "Charlie-in-the-box", a train with square wheels, and a cowboy who rides an ostrich.

Are misfits only imaginary characters in the world of Animated cartoons? Let us explore a familiar story in the scripture found in the second chapter of Luke...as we go searching for misfits.

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.
(And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)
And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)
To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.
And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.
And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.
And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.
But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.
And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

The text for this third Sunday of the advent season is so very familiar. In fact, it is probably the most well known group of verses in the entirety of scripture, rivaled only by John 3:16. It is a passage filled with misfits, given to misfits. In many churches each week the minister stands before the congregation and after the morning scripture reading says,"The Word of God for the People of God." This is said because the characters in the bible speak to us today, on a deep, shared level.

The misfit characters of Luke 2 speak loudly to the inner misfit in each of us. Mary and Joseph are misfits. Do we actually think that they felt like everyone else? Mary was unlike any young woman ever, as she was filled with child...after never having relationship with a man. She was chosen, because she was a misfit. She was unique, chosen for this task of being the mother of the Savior of the World. Joseph was a misfit, as he had been given the task of believing this elaborate story told to him by Mary. This story was so unbelievable...God sent an angel to him to confirm that it was actually true. Parents have much anxiety in raising children today, as questions come often like, "Am I doing enough, Is this the right thing, am I modeling the right images and ideals to my little one." Can you imagine the pressure of raising the Son of God? True misfits indeed.

The shepherds were misfits of the highest order. Each year thousands of children don bathrobes and walk down the main aisle of the church to visit the makeshift manger in Bethlehem. They always leave and invite the congregation to go and tell the world about that which they have just seen. A cute scene indeed, but the real shepherds were far from cute and believable. The scripture speaks to the fact that they were not reputable characters. People wondered about what the shepherds were saying. Why is that? They were vagabonds; the equivalent to today's travelling carnival workers. Not exactly folks that "fit in."

The wise men were not really kings. Each year we sing We three Kings, and the song no doubt conjures up images of a caravan of crown wearing dignitaries travelling across the desert. Actually they were stargazers, astrologers traveling looking to the skies for guidance. At a close examination, they more closely resemble Dionne Warwick and her psychic friends, than special kings from a foreign land. Not exactly people that you would see as having a valuable part in the plan of God. The amazing part of the story is that they were non-Jewish. Gentile astrologers were the first to come bearing gifts to this long expected Jewish messiah. Misfits delivering gold, frankincense and myrrh to a baby king that would be more than a Jewish political revolutionary. He would be the cause of a revolution in many heart; Jew and Gentile.

Now we focus on the biggest misfit of all of the cast of characters in this spiritual drama, played out thousands of time since the first Christmas in Bethlehem. We have spoken of Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men. Who is left? Of course it is the main character in this drama unfolding before humanity. We like them, peer into the manger, and look at the feeding trough to find the biggest misfit of all. Jesus, the Christ is not only there...this morning he is here. Many years ago, the scripture tells us that God revealed himself in a tangible way. The Unknowable became the crying one that cried, ate , and did the other thing that babies often do. The creator of it all became flesh and blood. As the scriptures state, in John 1:14 "and the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth."

He came for folks that just feel out of place. Some of this feeling is of our own doing, and some of it is simply due to the circumstances of life. Not to long ago, I had a conversation with a gentleman in his seventies. His wife had just died after a prolonged battle with cancer. For years, he had been visiting his son's home and being a vital, warm, healthy part of family functions. He had always felt comfortable, welcome, and at home there. However since the death of his wife he no longer feels the same. He is now a misfit, as his lifelong partner is gone, leaving him to stand alone.

Another friend after the death of his spouse tells me of the pain of eating alone. His other half is not there, and things are not as they once were. He remarried quickly to help to ease the pain. This, in retrospect was a big mistake, as that was not a good fit either. He is just another misfit in this land of sin and brokenness.

You and I are not immune. We are not as we should be. We are designed to live in communion and fellowship with God and each other. Often our personal relationships are fragmented and broken, and we seem so far away from God. Our sins often break that fellowship that is vital in a healthy relationship that fosters growth. We, too are misfits and need to be reborn. We need to be remade and have our relationships healed and restored.

This morning we light the candle of misfits. The good news of this Christmas season is that (recounting other candles of advent) Although we are dumbfounded in our steps of Faith, God takes misfits, and makes us family. He does this through the image described in the center candle; the Christ. We will not be here on Christmas morning. During your time of celebration, we invite and encourage each of you to pause, as a family and light this tea-light candle. As you light it remember the story of the advent season. The light of the world, cutting through the darkness; that is who this Christ was, and is still. (Dispense tea-lights as each parishioner leaves worship area)

Hermie and Rudolph, painfully sing the song of Misfits:

Why am I such a misfit?

I am not just a nitwit.

You can't fire me I quit, since I don't fit in.

Why am I such a misfit?

I am not just a nitwit.

Just because my nose glows, why don't I fit in?

Because of Christ, the elderly man that no longer fits in, my friend that has a failed marriage, each of you here this morning and this misfit preacher can sing a new song. A song that on this day will serve as our benediction. A benediction that ushers us and allows us to capture the message of this Christmas season. The greatest gift ever received is found here. Join me, as we sing together, "The Family of God."

I'm so glad I'm a part of the Family of God,

I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His Blood!

Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,

For I'm part of the family,

The Family of God

From the door of an orphanage to the house of the King,

No longer an outcast, a new song I sing;

From rags unto riches, from the weak to the strong,

I'm not worthy to be here, but PRAISE GOD! I belong!

I'm so glad. I'm a part of the Family of God,

I've been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His Blood!

Joint heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,

For I'm part of the family,

The Family of God.

Ornamentally speaking: Steps

This week, I saw an interesting new story on the early morning news. Advertisers are taking a new approach in marketing products, in an attempt to boost sales of product. At a bus station in San Francisco, small strips are being placed in inconspicuous places overhead. These little strips are chemically altered with a scent that will trigger the brain to want and crave a particular product. The nostrils of the "captive audience" is filled with the pleasant, warming aroma of hot, baked chocolate chip cookies. Who is the company that is sponsoring this new approach to advertising? Is it Keebler? Of course, those little elves must be behind such an ingenious idea. Is it Mrs. Fields? Her cookies sure are good, and could there possibly be a better idea than "aroma-advertising"? The answer is actually not a cookie company, at all. By looking to the right, the unsuspecting passengers have just been bamboozled by association. Most minds, when processing the smell of fresh, hot chocolate chip cookies associate a certain beverage with such euphoria. A large poster is there, with a black background. Two words phrasing a question are centered on the ad, and then the idea is crystal clear. Got Milk??

The ability of smells, sights and sounds to move us, and remind us of times that are warming and comforting is powerful. I invite each of you this morning to close your eyes, and in these few moments of silence, I invite you to think of the smells, sights and sounds of the Christmas season. (Pause for 15-30 seconds then Invite people to share these powerful memories)

You all are aware that I am an odd person. Some of you know that in a little more personal way than others, but believe me...I am strange. When I think of Christmas, many memories come to mind: smells of holiday cooking, sights of family laughing as they open gifts, sounds of family members around the table talking, and sometimes fussing after an uncle brings up a sensitive issue. I recall sitting at the little kids table and wanting to be with the grown-ups. Of course, now that I am at the big table, I realize how joyous it would be to go back.

Those things are not too odd, but this memory is a little strange. As I think of the holiday, I hear a rhythmic beat; a boom boom boom...boom boom,...boom boom. This sound is the sound of my feet as they bounded down our stairs. Everyday throughout the year, this was the rhythm of life; moving from upstairs to downstairs. On Christmas morning however, my sister and I would have to walk slowly, as Mom and Dad got in place, with the camera for just the right shot...of happy kids with morning hair. This one time of torturous, slow walking killed us, as we were so ready to see the bounty left for us by Santa. After walking slowly, and reaching the bottom..we were never disappointed.

Today, I want to talk to you about steps. We all take them, and as we look at a familiar passage, we will see that Mary and Joseph did the same.

Luke 2
1-And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.
2-(And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)
3-And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
4-And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:)
5-To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.
6-And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
7-And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

Just as Amy and I walked slowly those Christmas mornings, Mary and Joseph has steps to take on the long journey to Bethlehem. They had to travel just under one hundred miles over rough roads, using their feet and a donkey for transportation. It took them at least a week to make this journey. I cannot imagine how difficult it would be to make that trip while on the verge of delivering a baby. It is hard enough for us to drive to our respective families for the holiday. We have the comfort of a mini-van, with heat and air, and I-pod with 2800 songs, and an unlimited number of restaurants, and gas stations to stop at for relief. We stop and switch drivers,and stretch.

I cannot see Mary and Joseph having this conversation:

Joseph-"Would you like to drive the donkey"
Mary- "No. That's OK, I think I would prefer to take a nap."
Joseph- "What about lunch?"
Mary- "Look, I think I see a Cracker Barrel or maybe that is a Waffle House in the distance."

The steps they took were steps that were not easy. They were filled with difficulty, but their faithfulness is rewarded. These steps of faith are rewarded in the beautiful scene of God made flesh, wrapped in swaddling cloths, and lying in a manger. This little bundle of joy, at this time cannot take any steps...but many important ones are to follow.

We see the steps of Jesus, as he has walked away from his parents, now teaching the teachers in the Temple.

We see the steps of Jesus,as he walks into town, and walks over to the well and tells the woman there that she is forgiven.

We see the steps of Jesus, as he walks over to the tree. Looking up, he says, "Zaccheus, come down ..because Today I need to eat with you."

We see the steps of Jesus, as he sets his steps toward Jerusalem,knowing that this journey will lead to his death.

We see the steps of Jesus, as he is lead away from the Garden, in the hands of soldiers. We hear him say to his disciples, "Put away your swords."

We see the steps of Jesus, as he walks the hill to Calvary. While hanging there, he says "Father Forgive them, they know not what they do"


As we focus on the Advent candle, we see that the candle of dumbfoundedness is lit. Reminding us to be dumbfounded in the presence of the Lord. Although we are so unfaithful, often God blesses us immensely. We should be dumbfounded, knowing that He loves us so very much.

Today, we will light the candle of "steps". We realize that each day begins with steps, and before we stop in the evening, many more happen. Just as Mary and Joseph took these steps of faith, Jesus learned and followed.

Psalm 37:23 tells us, "Our steps are governed by the Lord." During this season, may we see our lives are lived out one faithful step at a time.

The ornament that I hold up today, is a reminder of little steps. This little ornament was made by my Aunt and I the week before my sister was born. For many years, I was the only child, and my steps were watched closely by the entire family. My sister came along, and actually took her first steps in a hotel here at Myrtle Beach. The best part is that after her birth, my steps were not focused upon. We both grew up, and each evening at 6:10 p.m., we would be sitting on those same Christmas steps, looking out the window, and waiting on my father to arrive home. Now, we are the parents, entrusted with watching the steps of our little ones.

May the Lord guide each of your steps, and may each of us walk beside the other and assist, as needed. May each step of this holiday season be filled with anticipation of the Messiah that we celebrate, this blessed time of year.


Closing Hymn--Footprints of Jesus

Sweetly, Lord, have we heard Thee calling,
Come, follow Me!
And we see where Thy footprints falling
Lead us to Thee.

Refrain:
Footprints of Jesus,
That make the pathway glow;
We will follow the steps of Jesus
Where’er they go.

Though they lead o’er the cold, dark mountains,
Seeking His sheep;
Or along by Siloam’s fountains,
Helping the weak.

If they lead through the temple holy,
Preaching the Word;
Or in homes of the poor and lowly,
Serving the Lord.

Though, dear Lord, in Thy pathway keeping,
We follow Thee;
Through the gloom of that place of weeping,
Gethsemane!

If Thy way and its sorrows bearing,
We go again,
Up the slope of the hillside, bearing
Our cross of pain.

By and by, through the shining portals,
Turning our feet,
We shall walk, with the glad immortals,
Heaven’s golden street.

Then, at last, when on high He sees us,
Our journey done,
We will rest where the steps of Jesus
End at His throne.

Footprints of Jesus,
That make the pathway glow;
We will follow the steps of Jesus
Where’er they go.


Benediction--

Dismiss us from this place with you love and mercy. Thank you for allowing us to take steps, fall, and come to you for forgiveness. May this holiday season be filled with steps that lead us to focus upon the Coming Christ, who came, died, rose and will return again...in faithfulness. Light out path, O' God, as we walk this way that you have prepared for us. Amen.

Walking Backward

Yesterday, as I drove Douglas to school, we made a right turn into the parking area and I noticed the strangest sight. A mother was hand in hand with her son, and they were walking...backwards. Evidently, they had walked in this manner before because they were in perfect balance and moving at a very fast pace. They laughed as they moved, and I began to wonder why it was that I saw this event,on this day.

The past three months have been very interesting from a health and financial perspective. The headaches beginning on August 24 have now disappeared, along with the facial numbness, tingling and weak legs. This process involved many tests (CT scan, MRI, nerve conductivity tests), and much expense and uncertainty. We had a battle with a Doctor with no "bedside manner", and found another one that we liked. He ordered physical therapy on the neck and shoulders to ease tension, but no one ever called to arrange the times. We interviewed for a position with Boys and Girls home of N.C., and declined the position after much inner struggle. South Korea came calling again, with an opportunity to teach English and Pastor an English speaking congregation in Suncheon City. We declined the position after much inner turmoil. Sarah used her veto power on this one. All of this to say that they past several months have been chock full of stuff that has kept me from writing as often.

What does this have to do with walking backwards? I see walking backwards in two distinct ways. First, I see it as the power of memory.It is the draw of nostalgia that summons us back to a different time and place in our journey. Lately, I have thought about some odd things from my past.



As a teenager, I always enjoyed watching the Eastern Conference battles between Dr. J and Larry Bird. I was a huge Dr. J fan and usually Larry always got the best of him. The Eastern conference championship usually came down to these two teams, with the winner facing the Lakers in the NBA finals. In the picture above, the competition turned ugly in a semi brawl between two of the greatest players ever. I think that it is a great shot, as it is an image that shows struggle between black and white,and flash and fundamentals.

A few weeks ago, I found a Playstation game at a super cheap price. Growing up, we had an atari system with many of the classic game cartridges. We played the greats like Asteroids, Centipede, Super Breakout, Space Invaders, Kaboom, Pitfall, and many more. The pic below shows the high level of competition between myself and Douglas. FYI--I am winning!



Not only does walking backwards mean looking back, but it also means seeing things from a different perspective. Imagine for a moment the first steps that you take while walking backwards. Awkwardness and timidity are present as you attempt something that you rarely do. After awhile, you become more comfortable and gain confidence as each step is completed. The most scary thing about walking backward is that the scenery looks very different and most importantly...you cannot see where you are going. The bumps in the road are not in eyesight, they are in hindsight. This means that you are far more likely to bust your butt than to see things coming.

The final evaluation of all the medical procedures was that I was eaten up by stress. The position at Wal-Mart was "a cancer" eating me up from the inside. My issues of perfectionism and control lead to my undoing. I was unable to leave the job at work, and step into the door at home and begin the decompression process. At work, my pride would not allow me to say no, as additional responsibilities were cast upon me. Deep inside, I thought that if I succeeded at this task that I would be thought of more highly, be seen as one who had his job in order, and in some warped way...I would actually be a better person. The same drive that propelled Dr. J and Larry Bird to greatness, had in effect lead to my demise.

I have always been the type that had a job, and have never left one without securing a "better", higher paying situation. However, after the stress diagnosis, Sarah and I came to a difficult conclusion. I am on leave of Absence from Wal-Mart through March as we decide what the next step should be. So, the 18.00 an hour job is now paying me 0.00 per hour. Our expendable income has gone from plenty to zippo, and a major lifestyle change is taking place. We are in effect; walking backwards.

What is God teaching us in this process? OK...here goes:

1-We thought that we were being wise with money. Now we realize how little we can actually live on. We were being very loose with the cash flow.

2-We have learned that God meets our needs. All along our journey, we have said this. I have preached this...but NOW I KNOW THIS. My mom kept pressing and wanted to know the extent of our situation, and I told her. Sarah has conversations with her parents, as well. Other than that we have spoken of our situation to few people. The congregation has joined us in prayer over my health. One Sunday, I was so medicated that I cannot recall the sermon. By the way...I re-preached it the next week. Now that scares me. In this praying for us, they also helped to meet out needs. A check out of the blue for 1000.00, every Sunday coming home from worship with crisp 20.00 bills folded, and discreetly placed in my shirt pocket. The past few weeks have seen checks for 750.00, 500.00, and 500.00. I met a friend of mine for coffee, and I left with a free breakfast and a handshake. Pulling away from that hand, I found 100.00 in mine.Christmas cards coming in with 50.00 bills inside. After we sent out an email Christmas card to save on expenses, a gentleman showed up on our porch with boxes of cards and stamps. Tonight, someone brought over a box full of greens, fruit, vegetables, frozen turkey and fish, and fresh hamburger. You would not believe all the examples of God's provision, but my prayer is that one day you, too, will SEE.

3-Our family life was not as strong as it could have been. Just like with the cash flow, we had gotten a little loose with keeping the main thing the main thing. I am becoming a better husband and father, and that is pretty exciting. I am talking to my mom and sister more, and life seems to be much more enjoyable. I was so preoccupied with "me", that "me" began to take over who I really am.

Walking Backwards is a scary thing, but it is the closest analogy that I can come up with for faith. In faith we keep walking unsteadily, and see things from a different perspective. We do not know what pitfalls lie ahead in the road, however we do know that through grace we can get up again when we crash. If we hold each others hands, it is much easier on this journey...and we can enjoy each uneasy step together.

So...walk backwards, you may be surprised with what you see, remember, and feel.

Christmas Cookies

Eastern Wisdom

A few weeks ago, friends took us to the local chinese restaurant for lunch. I always love the fortune cookies, and most of the time they are pretty interesting. On this day, however the fortune was absolutely true. Let me know if you agree with this little wisdom, typed on paper, crammed in my cookie:




Your ability to find the silly in the serious will take you far.

Ornamentally Speaking: Dumbfounded

My first church staff position was in a small town in the upstate of South Carolina. Fairforest was a little town, outside of a decent sized city called Spartanburg. The church was very small, with about 70-100 people each Sunday morning for worship. I was hired to be the minister of Children and youth. Sometimes, the greatest lessons are learned when working outside your areas of responsibility.

The pastor asked me to go visit some of the sick and elderly in the church. I had never been involved in this type of ministry before, so I graciously accepted. We met at the church office at half past two on a weekday. The wise, gray haired master, and the stocky built, young preacher boy, got into his very small car. I felt like a clown piled into a circus car, all squashed and hunched over, but luckily the ride was less than a mile. "We are going to see Rev. Fanning,"and he is very ill. This sentence was all the information that I was given, as we departed from the wind-up car.

A tired, but pleasant lady in her 60's met us at the door, and gave us both hugs. Hugs are a Southern thing. We do odd things like hugging strangers, and asking "How's your momma", and having gold spittons on the hearth, but that's a different sermon, altogether. I introduced myself and followed them into the living room, turned the corner, and was...dumbfounded.

Mr. Fanning was a retired minister. He had served several churches in the area and was a well loved man. His life consisted of ministry, family, and gardening. One year prior, he had noticed a burning place on his nose. Now on this day, I was seeing a man missing a large portion of his face. His speech had become undiscernable, and bore no resemblance to the picture on the wall behind the sofa. A massive family portrait hung there; husband, wife, and children, all full of smiles and life. Now, the retired preacher was quickly losing the battle with skin cancer; the result of his lifelong love of gardening.

My spirit was heavy, my mind was consumed with wondering what type of calling I had accepted. If this is what God had called me to...perhaps I was not thick skinned enough for the task. After returning to the church, I went into the restroom and cried. I looked into the mirror to clean myself up, touched the place beside my nose, and was speechless.

Our text this morning ushers us gently into the Advent season. Join me, as we look into the Word of God, for the people of God, on this first Sunday of Advent 2006. Here we will see another story of people of faith, and hopefully be drawn into deeper knowledge of God; the one who loves us.

Luke 1:5-25
5 When Herod was king of Judea, there was a Jewish priest named Zechariah. He was a member of the priestly order of Abijah, and his wife, Elizabeth, was also from the priestly line of Aaron.
6 Zechariah and Elizabeth were righteous in God’s eyes, careful to obey all of the Lord’s commandments and regulations.
7 They had no children because Elizabeth was unable to conceive, and they were both very old.
8 One day Zechariah was serving God in the Temple, for his order was on duty that week.
9 As was the custom of the priests, he was chosen by lot to enter the sanctuary of the Lord and burn incense.
10 While the incense was being burned, a great crowd stood outside, praying.
11 While Zechariah was in the sanctuary, an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing to the right of the incense altar.
12 Zechariah was shaken and overwhelmed with fear when he saw him.
13 But the angel said, “Don’t be afraid, Zechariah! God has heard your prayer. Your wife, Elizabeth, will give you a son, and you are to name him John.
14 You will have great joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth,
15 for he will be great in the eyes of the Lord. He must never touch wine or other alcoholic drinks. He will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even before his birth.
16 And he will turn many Israelites to the Lord their God.
17 He will be a man with the spirit and power of Elijah. He will prepare the people for the coming of the Lord. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and he will cause those who are rebellious to accept the wisdom of the godly.”
18 Zechariah said to the angel, “How can I be sure this will happen? I’m an old man now, and my wife is also well along in years.”
19 Then the angel said, “I am Gabriel! I stand in the very presence of God. It was he who sent me to bring you this good news!
20 But now, since you didn’t believe what I said, you will be silent and unable to speak until the child is born. For my words will certainly be fulfilled at the proper time.”
21 Meanwhile, the people were waiting for Zechariah to come out of the sanctuary, wondering why he was taking so long.
22 When he finally did come out, he couldn’t speak to them. Then they realized from his gestures and his silence that he must have seen a vision in the sanctuary.
23 When Zechariah’s week of service in the Temple was over, he returned home.
24 Soon afterward his wife, Elizabeth, became pregnant and went into seclusion for five months.
25 “How kind the Lord is!” she exclaimed. “He has taken away my disgrace of having no children.”

A truly amazing story, that in it's beginning is very similar to the Old Testament account of Abraham and Sarah. Just like the forefather, Zechariah and Elizabeth were past the age of childbearing. This is a great shame for the woman in the Jewish culture, and often women that were unable to bear children were deemed to be horrible failures, and even cursed by God. Today, Zechariah would have been going to the specialist for fertility tests, but in that time and place, all blame and guilt fell to Elizabeth.

Zechariah was busy fulfilling his role as a priest, and on this certain day, he was especially honored. Only once in the life of a priest is the opportunity given to serve as the officiating priest in the temple. The lot fell on him, sealing his fate and keeping him busy during Temple worship.
He had the honor of placing incense on the heated altar and then prostrating himself in prayer. The burning incense represented the the prayers of the people moving up into the heavens to God.

Outside, the people were reciting this prayer during the incense offering: "May the merciful God enter the Holy Place and accept with favor the offering of his people." This combination of offering by the priest and prayer of acceptance from the congegation is a powerful image of One(The Priest) standing as intercessor for the group. We are reminded here of Christ, our great high priest that stands in the Gap for us.

During this special day, Zechariah gets far more than he expected. He had rehearsed this many times, I am sure. He knew exactly how things would go. He knew his role, he took it seriously, and he was ready to accomplish this task. But, as usually happens when we think we have it all figured out...God had other things in mind.

Gabriel appears before Him with a message that is broken down into several statements:

1-Don't be afraid.
2-Your prayer has been heard
3-Elizabeth will bear you a son
4-You are to call him John
5-He will be a joy and delight to you
6-Many will rejoice because of his birth
7-He will be great in the sight of the Lord
8-He is never to take wine or other fermented drink
9-He will be filled with the Holy Spirit even from birth
10-Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God
11-And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah to make ready a people prepared for the Lord .

Not exactly the way that he had things written down in his Day planner, now was it?
After this marvelous news, from an Angel, standing directly in front of him, speaking loudly and clearly...Zechariah askes for PROOF.

"Are you sure you took the memo down correctly. I am concerned because it seemes that you are not fully aware of the depth of the problem that my wife has, and we are very old. Can you run that by me one more time?"


Reminds me of a familiar instance that has been played out millions of times in our homes. We, as parents, tell our children something...they ask why...and we say..."BECAUSE I SAID SO. If you keep doubting what I say, there will be consequences."

Gabriel echoes this idea in his response to Zechariah, the questioner.

I am Gabriel.
I stand in the presence of God.
I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news.


Then he is struck dumb...dumbfounded...speechless.


This amazing thing had just happened to him, and he could not speak of it. He was forced to play a comedic game of Charades to communicate that which is hard to believe, even if it is heard.

He was even unable to give the benediction of blessing to the crowds. He needed to say to them, and just as importantly, needed to hear himself:


The lord bless you and keep you; the lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the lord lift his countenance upon you and give you peace.


(Approach the advent wreath and light the first candle)

On this first Sunday of Advent, I light the candle of Dumfoundedness. We often act like Zechariah, when we are given direction and vision from God. We ask for proof. God asks for faith. May we be dumbfounded this Christmas season as we anticipate and reflect upon Christ, the one to whom John the Baptist prepared the way.


Shortly after moving here, I received a call about a man on his death bed. As I walked down to the camper, I reflected on the first visit with Rev. Fanning many years earlier. Just as in that visit, I was met at the door by a spouse that was tired, and she extended her hand. I did not know her, but after introducing myself, she wanted me to come on inside. There was no senior pastor leading today as we turned the corner to the small room where the man lay dying. The window was opened behind his head, and the breeze gently blew. He was shirtless, and the wind gently caressed his tanned body on this hot summer day. His hair, fine and gray, teasingly flipped as the breeze blew through. I found out by the family that he was an avid fisherman, and he had been under hospise care. They were ready for him to stop struggling and he was waiting for a minister to come by. Whispering a prayer into his ear and rubbing his hair, I invited the family around the bed. We joined hands around their loved one and said a brief prayer closed in the following way:



The lord bless you and keep you; the lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the lord lift his countenance upon you and give you peace.


I walked away, Dumbfounded, that people I did not know needed my blessing, a benediction, so that they could let go and he could quit fighting. He died a few hours later.


That Christmas, we received this ornament. (Hold it up and describe..Angel Bell, with the word Faith on it.)


When we were unpacking the boxes of Christmas stuff this year, I pulled it out...and it was as if I felt the gentle breeze blow, and this sermon came to mind.


So today, let us bow for the benediction that the dumbfounded Zechariah was unable to give, and listen as another Priest type figure that often acts like him, gives a blessing to those who often act like him. We still need it. Let us wring every bit of juicy, powerful meaning from this prayer:


The lord bless you and keep you; the lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the lord lift his countenance upon you and give you peace. In the name of Christ, the giver of blessings, grace, and peace...Amen.

Perceptions

A brief while ago, Douglas entered the room with two cards in his hand, face down. He went over to Sarah and gave her the top card saying,"Mommy this card is you....

He then gave me the next card. Looking into my eye, he devilishly smiled and said, "Yes, Daddy, this card is you." So, How do you think he did?

Perceptive angelic clownfish...isn't he???

Goodbye Old Friend

Things I have learned

Last night, I learned that sleeping pills do not always work. Three hours after taking this little gem, I was wide awake. Not that I am complaining, as I have been in a pretty big funk for the past two weeks. Shotgun blast headaches, dizziness, facial numbness and pressure, lack of energy and mental clarity, and a whole lot of attempts at sleeping. Usually, when I finally doze off and begin to pull out an abacus to count sheep, the phone rings, or Douglas will need to "pee-pee or poo-poo", or the clothes dryer will buzz, or our neurotic cat will find something that makes all kinds of infernal noise.

But this morning I woke up around 2am, with words and thoughts moving around in my head. So, I decided to capitalize on this while it lasts.

I have learned a few things while in my vegetative state. Television really sucks, and advertisements follow suit. Infomercials are driving me mad. As I channel flip, it seems that no matter the time of day or night, someone is trying to sell me something. Ponder on this question..."Is your colon the key to health and vitality?"
Hmmm, I guess I haven't given that much thought to that question. Mr. Colon man, feel free(or maybe not) to enlighten me!

So, during my hiatus, I have learned several key things...not all from the colon man:
1-I have enough fecal matter backed up in my colon to form adobe houses for an eskimo reservation.
2-If I buy his product..Stuff will happen.
3- Miami and Florida State have the Best Defenses ever, or possibly the worst offensive coordinators to call a game.
4-Tiger Woods would beat me in Putt-Putt, with a broomstick, blindfolded.
5-Odds of Douglas kicking me in the groin during a nap...75%, if in the same bed 95%.
6-God wants me to be fat, of course it could be the fecal matter, but I blame it on the steroids.
7-I don't miss work. I miss several friends, conversations, laughter at idiocy, and Subway, but not my job.
8-I miss driving my car. It has been almost 2 weeks now since my episode at work. Sarah is not to keen on me operating a vehicle. My convertible misses me, especially on the days in the 70's.
9-I have learned that I miss having emotion. I have been zombieesque. I have not wanted to talk, relate, or deal with people. Sarah has enjoyed my lack of mental capacity and verbiage. I was starting to think that I may have been mildly depressed, but it was probably from the meds. As you can see, I appear to be emoting quite well.
10-Due to Thunderstorms, Douglas slept with us last night. About 3am he laughed out loud in his sleep. I wondered what he was dreaming about? A movie, a friend, a Romanian visitor, being tickled? Fearing the laughter would be followed by a groin kick, I got up, made coffee and began to type.

Laughter has healing powers, I do believe, and maybe, just maybe God laughs at us, and for us.

Random thoughts from a muddled mind

I saw a homeless man today pulling a full shopping cart with a wagon bungeed behind it. Like a train, he pulled the heaping mounds of stuff along Hwy 17. From the perspective of his other homeless friends...is he materialistic or blessed?

A Prayer with Teeth

A Franciscan Benediction

May God bless you with Discomfort…
at Easy Answers,
Half-Truths,
and Superficial Relationships,
so that you may live
Deep Within Your Heart.

May God bless you with Anger…
at Injustice,
Oppression,
and Exploitation of People,
so that you may work
for Justice, Freedom, and Peace.

May God bless you with Tears…
to shed for those who suffer from Pain,
Rejection,
Starvation,
and War,
So that You may reach out Your Hand
to Comfort them and to turn their Pain into Joy.

And may God bless you with enough Foolishness…
to Believe that You can Make a Difference in this world,
so that You can DO what others claim cannot be Done.
Amen.

Cotton Candy--Inspired by true events

Looking across Kings highway, Amber glanced at the roller coaster. Clicking and climbing upwards, until it reached the point where gravity grabs control. Much faster than the ascent, the whooshing of the downward plunge takes her breath. Although she is not on "The Hurricane", she can feel the gut wrenching excitement stir within. She sighs, then breathes deep, and smiles. Her nose is tickled with the scent of cotton candy, and she is taken elsewhere.

The horn of a Escalade blares, waking her from her brief respite from reality. She nods apologetically to the driver, as he whips past. She enters into the gas station, to buy Marlboro light 100's, and a lighter.

Leaving, she lights one up, and takes a heavy draw. She sees Josh coming in the distance. At eighteen, she "knows" that this is love, and that he is "the one." Myrtle Beach is a starting point, a new beginning, a place to learn about each other. The only place they can afford is a roach motel, with a crack dealer for a bell hop. All this for the bargain price of 55 bucks a night. Unable to save money, and working temp jobs, this seems to be the only option. At night, the lights from the Pavilion shine into the window, and they hear the squeals of the paying funseekers, and the carnival piped in music. They see, they hear, they smell, but they never participate.

Her head is pounding tonight, maybe from working a double shift, or perhaps from smelling too much roach spray. She goes to the bathroom at Wal-Mart to take a pill. Looking into the mirror, she sees the face of a stranger. "Things are getting better," she says....trying to say it in a way that will evoke belief. Josh has not hit her in three weeks now. Work has been steady. The mission has given them many good hot meals, with the only cost being hearing about Jesus, from a man that has a nice car, home, and cushy job. Someone enters the bathroom, Amber takes the pill and goes back to work.

Josh passes her in the hall and asks her where she has been. He is angry, as he was hoping to get a full time job with Wal-Mart. However, he just was informed about the background check portion of the hiring process. "I guess the three assault charges will haunt me again," as he leads Amber back to the job, where he can always see just what she is up to.

The next day, Amber walks outside for a smoke. Her swollen eye, and busted lip are throbbing, but she balances the cigarette on the other side of her mouth. The wind changes direction, and she pauses, and smells the cotton candy, and dreams.

Hey Sam, "Watch me poop on the preacher!"

Last Sunday was a usual warm, muggy day here in Myrtle Beach. At 8 am, we were already miserably oppressed by the high humidity and absence of any recognizable breeze. Over one hundred folks slowly made their way, out to the covered area, on the longest fishing pier on the east coast. Two college kids stood up before the gathered assembly, and began to lead in the offertory special. Then, with ten seconds left in the song, just before my time to
"dare to speak on behalf of God", I was pooped upon. Several pigeons were perched above, and I did not heed my wife's warning to watch out. Something warm and oatmealesque plopped into my perfectly coiffed hair. "See Sam...Told you I could Do it."

Luckily Sarah is always prepared. Miraculously, I was able to get her to stop laughing long enough to use a "wet wipe" from her purse to get me cleaned up. While reading the scripture, I dared think...yep...this must be the secret to the Christian life, learning to dodge the poop, or at least knowing the one who is able to clean us up. Sounds like the Gospel to me!


Later that evening I saw two Hasidic Jews walking down ocean boulevard in the midst of bikinis, many piercings and a roaring dinosaur at Ripleys, and I acted as if it was normal....whatever that means.

Snapshots of a Soul

Today, the sermon seemed to be a bit off kilter, as I reflected on the things that I learned from my dad. I love this picture, as my largest male influence pulled me deeply into a spot...most safe.

It is hard to explain what this one does to me. My dad taught me to be faithful in the simple things. He was a model of consistency, and a bedrock of stability. He had a great, infectious laugh, and loved life. His death taught me that God moved in mysterious ways, and that the life should be squeezed out of each second. (See T-Shirt post about 6 posts prior)


Now that I am raising a little man, I am obligated to teach him about life. He will learn much on his own, from his mom, or from others, but I play a major role in his development. So what will I teach him?

1- To root for the Cubs and Red Sox

2-Cheer for the Clemson Tigers and Dallas Cowboys

3-Love and Respect all people, ideas, and cultures

4-Play hard, without the fear of losing

5-Laugh until he wants to puke

6- Search for God in unexpected places

7- Embrace his heritage

8-Shoot a Hook Shot

9-Throw a Curve Ball

10- Each breath is bathed with grace....that should bewilder and amaze.

11- Read books that challenge and stretch the mind

12- Trust God, even when he is noticeably absent

13-See the potential lying just beneath the surface

14-To realize how liberating it is to say, "I'm Sorry."

15-To look for a mate that will help him become a better man.

16-Music history....Sam Cooke, Marvin Gaye, Jimi Hendrix, The Stones, The Beatles, Prince, and countless others

17-Prayer is more listening than asking God for stuff

18- We fail God, each other, and ourselves, often.

19- God forgives, and we should follow suit.


Having a father and being a father...a gracious gift indeed!

Superstar Dreams

Born to be Wild

Douglas at Bike week in the new used convertible.

The Theology of Homer Formby

Famous theologians from the past and present have had a heavy influence in my spiritual development. I have walked to the well almost grudgingly, but after kneeling and drinking, I walked away refreshed and renewed. Augustine, Calvin, Zwingli, Luther, Knox, Wesley, Barth, and Tillich have molded and shaped my mind, and heart. I recently became influenced by the thinking of Homer Formby. He does not speak of substitutionary atonement, nor does he have five possible ideas of Christology, Sotieriology, or Ecclesiology. In fact, he does not write at all. I am unsure of his own salvation, possible he has no relationship with God. Yet, he has influenced me, and made me reconsider the importance of a certain aspect of ministry.

Homer Formby was a restorer. He had his name attached to a line of wood products a few years back, and craftsmen would buy the products off the shelves of Roses, Otasco, Lowes, K-Mart and Wal-Mart. Afterwards, they would take a beat up, abused, weathered piece of furniture, and with skill and loving care...they would restore it to "like new" condition.

What could we, as the people of God, truly become, if we were restorers? Usually when someone messes up, blows it, misses the mark...we turn our backs on them. We make them hurt more, shun them, and add another scar to skin that already aches with pain.

Early in my Christian life and ministry, I was a shunner, a church discipline advocator, and a Pharisee with a long flowing robe. The bible was a rule book for playing the game of religion, and as pastor, I had the right to referee and scorekeep. However, after several years of ministry, I became involved in a sin that had me firmly in grasp. I no longer ran, I reveled in my new found sin. As a Pastor it is so hard to find the time to renew spiritually and to find someone that you can share your deep darkness. We are so concernied about staying in the "good graces" of our people and being perceived as holy that we cease to be real. So we do what we do in secret and never "get real" with the depth of our own need.

Someone finally earned my trust, and I spilled my soul, halfheartedly wanting to be told that I should leave the ministry and pursue another career and calling. She was an older lady, uneducated by books, but lead by the Spirit of Christ. She was hunched over with arthritis, and shuffled about with the aid of a walker. She had no teeth to speak of, and her hair was white as snow. She said, "Richard, you say that Christ forgives us, but Do you believe it? To be a real preacher you should believe what you say, and if it is not true, then you shouldn't say it." She prayed with me, and encouraged me, and loved me. She, lead by the Spirit of Christ, took a broken minister, and with a lot of skill, love, and care restored me to the treasure that I was created to be.

Two weeks ago, I went back to the place of my sin and struggle and preached her funeral. I had some fear that I would see people that would condemn, or whisper, or ignore me. Standing before her family, I told the story of restoration and redemption. Her concern helped keep me in the business of sharing and caring and I am eternally grateful.

Andrew Peterson, writer/musician says it best.

Now and then these feet just take to wandering
Now and then I prop them up at home
Sometimes I think about the consequences
Sometimes I don't.

Well, I realize that falling down ain't graceful
But I thank the Lord that falling's full of grace
Sometimes I take my eyes off Jesus
And you know that's all it takes

Well I wish that I could say that at the close of every day
I was happy with the way that I'm behaving
'Cause Job, he chased and answer
The wise men chased the Child
Jacob chased her 14 years and he Captured Rachel's smile
Moses chased the Promised Land
Joseph chased a dream
David, he chased God's own heart
All I ever seem to chase is me

Well, they say a race can only have one winner
And you know you've got to pull out front to win
God knows the only time I'm winning
Is when I'm chasing Him

Well I wish that I could say that at the close of every day
I was happy with the way that I'm behaving
'Cause Samson chased a woman
and he chased the Philistines
I'm not quite sure what Jonah chased
But I know he caught the sea
Cain, he chased the harvest
While Abel chased the beasts
David, he chased God's own heart
All I ever seem to chase is me

And Jesus chased the moneymen
And he chased his Father's will
He chased my sin to Calvary
And he caught it on that hill
Saul, he chased the Christians
Till his blindness made him see
David, he chased God's own heart
All I ever seem to chase is me


Are you broken? Have you fallen? Do you need grace and restoration? I have been redeemed and restored, and am available for you. All you have to do is reach out.

Free Flowing

My son peed on me tonight. He is working on potty training, and while in the shower, he let it fly. Gravity and velocity combined and found a landing point, my right foot. It warmed my heart(not really) but it did remind me just how far we have come. Douglas just turned four, and I am so blessed to be his father.

A few hours before his birth, while Sarah was not yet angry at my ability to impregnate, I wrote these few words:

March 23, 2002.

4:39 a.m.

Perhaps a brilliant mind he will have,

or the skills to cure cancer, or dementia, or AIDS.

Maybe the ability to design castles or kingdoms,

or planes or cars.

Could it be that he will speak with a dazzling splendor

and an eloquence that has not yet been experienced.

Perhaps a voice; angelic but strong.

Choirs from London and Carnegie

would vie for this gifted tenor.

But even better, he could have mustard seed sized faith

that is able to move mountains.

Such a faith will give him a blessed hope,

founded upon Christ...the Redeemer.

That is enough to make any father...overjoyed.

4:44 am

Four years later, I remain unsure what Douglas Richard Jenkins will become. Perhaps a sharpshooter...for in the shower, his aim sure is true.

Douglas and His Day

6 Days old

One year

Pancakes with Mom

Yummy Popcorn

Just like Daddy

Like my Icing Lips?

Curious George...For ME?

Bye Bye three...hello four!!

The Maturation Process: Sweet to Sweeeeeeet!

The Hunt

As little folks, we were subjected to family tradition and revelry centered around Easter. Mom would take Amy and I to Hamrick's and buy us our new Sunday duds, and get us ready for the big day. As you may notice in the picture above, I am somewhat torn between, my two careers of contortionist, and televangelist. The clothes would get better,as the years rolled by and our hair would be styled just so, and afterwards we would have a big meal..and hunt eggs.



The eggs were hid in various places, with the best being in the shrubs, gutters, or trees. Dad even found a way to get those plastic eggs to fit between the links of the chain link fence.



This year, we hid 1800 eggs for the kids to find at Apache Campground, and the task was accomplished in 2.3 seconds.



Other folks came hunting too, as we served Communion to almost 600 people yesterday. The sunrise brought 350 people to gather and remember the Son rising from the tomb. I was awed and humbled to have the chance to say repeatedly, "The blood of Christ given for You, Happy Easter."

Easter is a great time of festivity and focus. I hope that you were moved, hunted, and found.

"You Can't go Home again", was written by Thomas Wolfe, and is an idea that is often acknowledged and quoted. Home, in my formative years was the Upstate of South Carolina, in a small community with the landscape dotted with peach trees. During picking season, I would help the Souther family get those peaches ready for market. My jobs were varied, as sometimes I would sit on the tractor with a legal pad, and add a line beside each pickers name as they filled a basket. Other times, I would level each box out, place the lid on top, and then load it on the truck. I even had the chance to go to the market, and be involved in the selling process.I was not the best peach worker, but it was a fun, and fuzzy experience.I also recall spending many Sunday's inside a church, sitting on a hard wooden pew. One Sunday would be spent at the Pentecostal church with my grandparents. This was a place filled with jumping up and down, enthusiastic singing, speaking in tongues, and all people praying at once. Beginning with a soft whisper, these group prayers had a distinct ebb and flow, and were displays of laughter, tears, yelling and joy.The next Sunday, I would be in the Baptist church, on a hard wooden pew. We would sit quietly, sing with a little fervor, and rarely show emotion. I recall grasping the back of the pew in front of me, as I stood and sang all the verses of "Just as I am", waiting on someone to go down front and grasp the preachers hand and accept Jesus. To be honest, I prayed that someone would hurry down, so that I could go home and watch Roger Staubach, Tony Dorsett, Tony Hill, Tom Landry, and the rest of my Dallas Cowboys. On Saturday, I would look in the TV Guide to see what time the Cowboys game kicked off. If it was at 1pm, I prayed and prayed that church would not last too long. Those pews got awfully hard sometimes, but I think that if they were places of comfort, we would sleep during preaching. Unthinkable...for the naked Preacher now....but an embraceable idea way back then.In Korea, one afternoon, I decided to go for a little stroll. I am not one for strolling, or as Sarah puts it, "Tromping Around". I put on my warm jacket, and grabbed the ipod in a sock (long story), and took to the hills. I walked up the mountain, and looked at the trees and rocks, and actually enjoyed myself. After walking back down, I passed my friend's house and ventured into the flat part of the land. After a few brief minutes I noticed some peach trees planted on a small section of land, and right in the middle of them...was a pew. As I sat there, with the cold breeze blowing, in my memory, I looked to my left and saw my Aunt Bernice sitting there. On the second row, was Jay Pearson with many young guys sitting beside him. The Choir had on the green robes, and Jerry Baskin anchored the bass section, Doug Jones was the Tenor supreme, and Diane Thomas was the Soprano that could crack glass(or at least crack me up). I heard Preacher Turner pronounce the W in the word "sword", smiled and instinctively began to sing a hymn. Dallas was not playing today, so I sang a few verses of the following:

I've wandered far away from God,

Now I'm coming home;

The paths of sin too long I've trod,

Lord, I'm coming home.

Coming home, coming home,

Nevermore to roam,

Open wide Thine arms of love,

Lord, I'm coming home.

I've wasted many precious years,

Now I'm coming home;

I now repent with bitter tears,

Lord, I'm coming home.

I'm tired of sin and straying, Lord,

Now I'm coming home;

I'll trust Thy love,believe Thy Word,

Lord, I'm coming home.

So, I guess you can go home again...I only wish I could give Thomas Wolfe a hard pew, and a super juicy peach, and perhaps, he would reconsider.