My mother, God rest her soul, was an incredible woman in a number of ways. She worked in the textile mill that was the anchor of the mill village I grew up in for almost 50 years walking to work everyday. For 45 years of that she worked the same job in the supply room as a clerk ordering parts and supplies for thousands of pieces of machinery, looms, spinning frames, and other equipment. Peggy, as she was called by everyone except her children, was famous in the Concord area for her homemade macaroni and cheese, her fudge, her cheese straws, and the seven different kinds of cakes she made every year at Christmas. A tireless worker at Kerr Street United Methodist Church, she along with my Dad, was the key ground beef chili maker for that organization’s Friday hotdog sales. This was not your normal fund raiser mind you. Kerr Street was a hot dog making machine and literally developed a business almost exclusively manned by retirees and senior citizens that grossed over $2000 a week! That was every week except the weeks of Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Mom and Dad would cook over 125 lbs of ground beef every Thursday night for the chili that to this day is still my favorite ever.
(Kerr Street still has hotdog sales the first Saturday of the month in Concord, NC so go check it out if you are in the area. No offense to Forest Hills UMC or Epworth UMC but neither of them could hold a candle to Kerr Street, but I guess I am a bit biased).
Mom loved her children and grandchildren, her family, my Dad, and my amazing Grandma Spears, with a passion, and would go out of her way if she felt someone needed something. Even though we were poor, my mother never lacked a penchant for gift giving, even if it was from the sale rack at Belk. Matter of fact, she reveled in the fact that she got things 30%, 50%, and the holy grail of purchase prices, 75% off. So much so that she would tell the recipient.
It would go something like this, “Do you like the shirt? Guess what the price was? Now guess, what I paid for it?”
When my mom passed away a few years ago I wanted so bad to take just a little bit of her ashes and put them under the sales rack in the Belk at Concord’s Carolina Mall. It was her favorite place to be for goodness sake. Needless to say my family did not let me.
Christmas was Peggy’s favorite time of the year and her love for Santa Claus ceramic figurines was legendary. To this day, the house I grew up in has over 150 Santa’s of all shapes, sizes, colors, and designs, on display on shelves, in china cabinets, in curio cabinets, and even on dressers and window sills. It looks like a “ceramic Santa museum” for crying out loud.
My mother also loved the Lord so much and it was her faith that cemented the foundation for my walk with the Lord ,that of my brother Darrell, and the family. Today in churches we participate in “small groups” or “life groups” where we get together with others for fellowship, study the Word, and to support each other. Mom was the queen of small groups but back then it was called “Circle Meeting”. Man oh man, did I love it when Mom’s Circle met at our house. My mother was quite the show off when it came to her culinary skills fancying herself a mill hill Julia Childs and Circle meeting at the Karr house was center stage. The cheese straws, homemade chocolate fudge, a soggy pineapple cake, a German chocolate cake, lemon drop squares, and date nut roll were produced in mass along with this pineapple punch that had frozen rings of fresh pineapple floating in the punch bowl. Yum! It was as sight to not only behold but to partake in and my Dad and I waited patiently out in the yard, in the garden, or down at my oldest brother’s pond, for the moment we were allowed back in the house to clean up the left overs!! Talk about pigging out! In anticipation of that event I suspect I fasted for a couple of days.
Mom also had her challenges. All of you have heard about the glass half full, glass have empty way of describing people:
“There are two kinds of people, those who see a glass of water (that is 50% filled) half full, and those who see it half empty.”
Well Peggy was a third kind: It was not only half empty but the last drink she would ever have in her life! To twist another cliché: Mom could always find the black cloud surrounding the silver lining. I used to call her the eternal fatalist, Momma Chicken Little, whose sky was always falling no matter how uplifting everything seemed to be going at the time.
It made being around her sometimes difficult to say the least but I think it also shaped how I have tried to live my life more to the optimistic side. Don’t get me wrong, for those of you who know me in person, and especially my family , my emotions are best represented by the shape of a roller coaster’s layout except the climb up is often close to vertical, very high, and the return is a bullet train straight at the ground. For the most part however, I have been the person who no matter how bad things can get seems to take it fairly in stride. This has become more true as I have gotten older, learned to cope a bit with my issues, and have been feted with the blessed assurance of God’s grace and love. I think because I was constantly trying my best not to get drawn into my mother’s negativity, which by the way was often directed at my “failures” and shortcomings, I developed a “seek the positive” approach to most challenges in life (with the exception of losing my hair. I had great hair. I miss my hair).
It is from this perspective I have tried to approach the representation of my faith. Growing up in a conservative United Methodist family who happened to believe that one needed to make a conscious decision to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior I did not get exposed to the “Hail, Fire, and Brimstone” theology that seemed to be and still is in some denominations, the motivation to get saved. Don’t get me wrong, I was taught about Hell, believe it is real, and believe it to be a place I surly do not want to go. I just did not grow up in an environment where the fear of damnation was the scare tactic (a term one of my Facebook friend’s wrote today in a posting on my page) used to get me to make that decision to follow Him, the “turn so you don’t burn” approach if you will.
Having said that and being someone who has been making a conscious effort to live my faith I recently was faced with situation where someone who is not a Christ follower asked me the age old question:
“So, do you believe that since I don’t believe in Jesus I am going to Hell?”
At first I was taken aback. Thoughts ran through my head at an even more jumbled and rapid pass than my normal ADD/ADHD/OCD brain typically conjures and I was reeling a bit looking for something profound to say.
My first thought was just to say “no” of course not.
My second thought was “well, the Bible teaches blah blah blah’.
My third thought was “change the subject doofus and quick”
And my forth thought was “Man I need a moment, where’s a Snickers bar when you need one”. (I made that one up but you get the picture).
Then in a moment of clarity that is rare in the typical fog called my brain an email exchange I had recently with a very close friend came to mind. This gentleman and I have known each other for a few years now and have grown a friendship that is filled with brotherly love. No, we are not going to see “I Love You, Man” together but a “best man” this friend of many, a good one would make. After reading my blog he had sent me an email that had expressed how over the years his concept of the Christian religion as presented by the judgmental, holier than though, exclusivity that has been so prevalent in church for hundreds of years and especially in the traditional ranks during the 20th century did not line up with the loving God that leaped off the pages of the New Testament to him. He honored me by saying that though my “born again” stuff some time made him a little uncomfortable, I had never made he feel anything but loved and respected and that he found that my seeing God in helping people write a resume or in a conversation about a pair of loppers special. Of all the emails I have received from friends over the years it will remain one of the most precious.
I pondered that the “born again” me that he was seeing was my attempt to emulate Jesus and it was from that perspective that the idea that Jesus calls us not to judge but to love flooded my mind.
I grasped the dual trap that was the question being asked:
Trap 1-
To answer “No, I don’t think you are going to hell because you don’t believe in Jesus” totally puts you in the vulnerable position of having your true faith called into suspect.
“What do you mean, you don’t think so? Doesn’t (your) Bible say that?” Conclusion: This dude’s not really a strong Christian like he confesses.
Trap 2-
To answer with the “yes” you are going to Hell if you don’t believe automatically puts the person asking the question on the defensive. It also directs that person to immediately jump to the conclusion that, “Here we go again, WHO is this person to judge me? Typical Christian!”
Who in deed? Who are we as followers of the Risen Christ whose resurrection was the prize won by the blood shed freely for us on the Cross and the defeat of sin to pass judgment on others?
It was this train of thought, inspired I believe by my still infantile walk with Him, that gave me the answer that seem the most appropriate-
>It is not my place to judge if non-believers are going to hell if they don't believe in Jesus. I just KNOW I am going to heaven because I do.<
You see, that practice of trying to find the positive way to look at potentially negative situations created by my developed coping mechanism for Momma Chicken Little kicked in. That combined with the blessings that God has poured down on me, that need to follow His Son Jesus by following his commandment “to love one another”, and the hope that I never judge others, gave me the direction I needed at the moment.
I don’t know if my answer made an impact. I may never know. The point is that as Followers of Him we are called not to judge, not to condemn, but to show his grace, mercy, and love through all action and words.
Who do you know that you need to tell, “…I just KNOW I am going to heaven because I believe in Him?”
Try it. You never know what the result might be but I assure He does.
Luke 6 Vs 37
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”
John 13 vs 34
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”
John 13 vs 35
“By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Judging Others And The Well Woman
Today I had to make a presentation to the Cove Church staff (www.covechurch.org) on the developing CareerLIFE Ministry. It was great to see the whole team assembled in one meeting. I was amazed at how many of them I had already interacted with while serving either on the Remix Set-Up Team, the Statesville Campus Production/Set-Up Team, during the Job Search Basic class preparation and teaching, or just through attending weekly services. The work each team member does to further the cause of Christ through the Cove's ministry is incredible but what strikes me the most about the group is how they all are living their faith through their job, their obedience, and their service. To be around this group of people is truly inspiring.
At the beginning of the meeting there was a time for a devotional (hey, of course there was..It was a church leadership meeting, duh!!) and Christy (the awesome leader of Cove Kids Statesville and a tall drink of boundless energy..Redbull doesn't have a thing on Ms. Christy)was the one to share. She talked about the challenges of not being judgmental, drawing conclusions on first blush, and how we all struggle with how we quickly sum up people in our heads when we see them. Paul in his letter to Romans spent a great deal of time talking about this very subject(Romans 2:1-16). This hit home with me on several levels. For one, I have been guilty like many people of making judgments on people by the way they looked, dressed, talked, or acted. On the other side of the coin, because of the way I look, my tattoos, the fact that I skateboard, came from a poor family, shave my head, talk with a very thick southern accent, and pretty much look like a bouncer, it has been more than once someone has drawn a conclusion about me that probably was not accurate. One would think since I have felt the hurt of being judged in that manner I would not be so quick to act in the same way but alas it is trap I have fallen in more times than I wish to admit.
Christy had found a video on Youtube of a spoken word interpretative piece about the Woman at the Well(John 4 4-42). It was a powerful representation and I am glad I got to see it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q49BbfgJbto
This scripture is one my favorites from the New Testament and has been one I have related to a great deal over my life. Though I was brought up in a strong Christian household albeit a poor one in a mill village in North Carolina called Gibson Mill (part of Concord, NC) and for the most part kept my nose clean as they say I struggled with being somewhat of an outcast. You see where I grew up back in the late 60's and throughout the 70's and early 80's people from "mill hill" were looked down upon by the "other side" of town in the more affluent areas. People who worked in the cotton mills and thus their children were labeled "lint heads", a derogatory term that came from the fact that cotton mill workers at shift end would take their work home with them so to speak in their hair, on their clothing, and pretty much all over. Cotton textile mills had to have high humidity throughout the plant to make the looms, yarn spinning frames, and other equipment run properly. The extra humidity, along with the sweltering heat inside the plants, made it virtually impossible to keep cotton dust and lint from clinging to some part of your body. "Lint Head" was the name used to refer to anyone who worked in the mill or were supported by someone who did. The connotation was that the person was not smart enough or good enough to not have to work in such conditions. The truth is, however, the overwhelming majority of textile mill workers in the South were strong Christians, hard working people, and completed dedicated to their families. Some of the smartest people I ever met were mill folk and I cherish my heritage. To be a "lint head" was to be judged by some people.
Within the mill village people looked after one another and were very protective of each other. Unless, you were different, or had something they did not have. I was blessed at an early age to learn to read. My grandmother and mother both taught me to read before I ever began elementary school. By the time I was in the first grade in the little school in my neighborhood, a school that was probably seventy percent mill hill children, I was reading on a 4th grade level. By the time I got to the 4th grade I took almost all of my English, reading, and math classes, separate from the other students because I was further ahead. Was I smarted than them? No. I just had been blessed with the advantage of parents and a grandmother that wanted something better for me than what they had in life and education was going to be the ticket out. As I grew into middle school and high school the friends I had grown up with in the neighborhood treated me different. Because I made better grades, took more advanced classes, and hung around with the smart "rich" kids, I was no longer accepted by my peers. In a sense I was outcast amongst the outcasts: Not being completely embraced by the other side of town because I was a lint head and no longer a full member of the mill hill gang because I was in more advanced classes with mostly kids from the other side of town.
The woman at the well was the ultimate "outcast among outcast". She was from Samaria, a small area north of Judea, that the Jews had great disdain for in those times. The Samaritans though they worshipped the same God as the Jews did not feel that they needed to worship Him in the temple of Jerusalem but rather on the mountain where they lived. The Jews hated them so much that they would literally travel miles out of their way on a journey in that direction just to keep from being "contaminated" by contact with the Samaritans by traveling through their country. Can you imagine? Driving or walking miles out of your way just to avoid the risk of actually coming face to face with someone of a different background than yourself? We don't do that now do we? To the Jews, the Samaritans were outcast. It is remarkable to note that Jesus not only traveled through the area but stayed there for two days. This would have been unthinkable of a Jewish man of that time.
The woman had had five husbands and was living with another man when Jesus met her at the well. It was midday, the hottest part of the day, when no one would have been at the well. She went then to avoid being seen by the other people of her village. Those people probably judged her, looked down on her, derided her for the lifestyle she had led, and treated her with disgust. She was a Samaritan outcast to the Jews and an outcast among the Samaritans themselves.
What is so awesome about this story is how Jesus decided to use her to spread His kingdom. First he went to where she was. She did not come to him. Second, after telling her everything about herself, he revealed who he truly was to her, the Son of the living God. I love this part because in most of the other writings from the Bible Jesus let others come to the conclusion of His true identity as the Savior but with the woman at the well He went directly to the heart of the matter: Vs26-"Then Jesus declared, "I who speak to you am he.""
The encounter with Him face to face along with His clear declaration that He is the Savior was so compelling to this outcast that she ran back to her village to tell His story. She was so convincing in fact in her witness to what Jesus had said and done for her that this person who had been ridiculed, looked down upon, and derided by her own people, was now leading them to Christ. She of all people Jesus chose to tell His story. The other Samaritans were so thirsty for the water He could give them to drink that they bid Him to stay with them for two days.
I love this story because it reminds me of how God can use any of us, no matter what our walk in life, no matter what we have done in our past, and no matter how we are viewed by others. It also reminds me to not be quick to judge others. They too, might be part of God’s plan for the Good News.
I don’t want to miss out on the Good News they bring. How about you?
At the beginning of the meeting there was a time for a devotional (hey, of course there was..It was a church leadership meeting, duh!!) and Christy (the awesome leader of Cove Kids Statesville and a tall drink of boundless energy..Redbull doesn't have a thing on Ms. Christy)was the one to share. She talked about the challenges of not being judgmental, drawing conclusions on first blush, and how we all struggle with how we quickly sum up people in our heads when we see them. Paul in his letter to Romans spent a great deal of time talking about this very subject(Romans 2:1-16). This hit home with me on several levels. For one, I have been guilty like many people of making judgments on people by the way they looked, dressed, talked, or acted. On the other side of the coin, because of the way I look, my tattoos, the fact that I skateboard, came from a poor family, shave my head, talk with a very thick southern accent, and pretty much look like a bouncer, it has been more than once someone has drawn a conclusion about me that probably was not accurate. One would think since I have felt the hurt of being judged in that manner I would not be so quick to act in the same way but alas it is trap I have fallen in more times than I wish to admit.
Christy had found a video on Youtube of a spoken word interpretative piece about the Woman at the Well(John 4 4-42). It was a powerful representation and I am glad I got to see it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q49BbfgJbto
This scripture is one my favorites from the New Testament and has been one I have related to a great deal over my life. Though I was brought up in a strong Christian household albeit a poor one in a mill village in North Carolina called Gibson Mill (part of Concord, NC) and for the most part kept my nose clean as they say I struggled with being somewhat of an outcast. You see where I grew up back in the late 60's and throughout the 70's and early 80's people from "mill hill" were looked down upon by the "other side" of town in the more affluent areas. People who worked in the cotton mills and thus their children were labeled "lint heads", a derogatory term that came from the fact that cotton mill workers at shift end would take their work home with them so to speak in their hair, on their clothing, and pretty much all over. Cotton textile mills had to have high humidity throughout the plant to make the looms, yarn spinning frames, and other equipment run properly. The extra humidity, along with the sweltering heat inside the plants, made it virtually impossible to keep cotton dust and lint from clinging to some part of your body. "Lint Head" was the name used to refer to anyone who worked in the mill or were supported by someone who did. The connotation was that the person was not smart enough or good enough to not have to work in such conditions. The truth is, however, the overwhelming majority of textile mill workers in the South were strong Christians, hard working people, and completed dedicated to their families. Some of the smartest people I ever met were mill folk and I cherish my heritage. To be a "lint head" was to be judged by some people.
Within the mill village people looked after one another and were very protective of each other. Unless, you were different, or had something they did not have. I was blessed at an early age to learn to read. My grandmother and mother both taught me to read before I ever began elementary school. By the time I was in the first grade in the little school in my neighborhood, a school that was probably seventy percent mill hill children, I was reading on a 4th grade level. By the time I got to the 4th grade I took almost all of my English, reading, and math classes, separate from the other students because I was further ahead. Was I smarted than them? No. I just had been blessed with the advantage of parents and a grandmother that wanted something better for me than what they had in life and education was going to be the ticket out. As I grew into middle school and high school the friends I had grown up with in the neighborhood treated me different. Because I made better grades, took more advanced classes, and hung around with the smart "rich" kids, I was no longer accepted by my peers. In a sense I was outcast amongst the outcasts: Not being completely embraced by the other side of town because I was a lint head and no longer a full member of the mill hill gang because I was in more advanced classes with mostly kids from the other side of town.
The woman at the well was the ultimate "outcast among outcast". She was from Samaria, a small area north of Judea, that the Jews had great disdain for in those times. The Samaritans though they worshipped the same God as the Jews did not feel that they needed to worship Him in the temple of Jerusalem but rather on the mountain where they lived. The Jews hated them so much that they would literally travel miles out of their way on a journey in that direction just to keep from being "contaminated" by contact with the Samaritans by traveling through their country. Can you imagine? Driving or walking miles out of your way just to avoid the risk of actually coming face to face with someone of a different background than yourself? We don't do that now do we? To the Jews, the Samaritans were outcast. It is remarkable to note that Jesus not only traveled through the area but stayed there for two days. This would have been unthinkable of a Jewish man of that time.
The woman had had five husbands and was living with another man when Jesus met her at the well. It was midday, the hottest part of the day, when no one would have been at the well. She went then to avoid being seen by the other people of her village. Those people probably judged her, looked down on her, derided her for the lifestyle she had led, and treated her with disgust. She was a Samaritan outcast to the Jews and an outcast among the Samaritans themselves.
What is so awesome about this story is how Jesus decided to use her to spread His kingdom. First he went to where she was. She did not come to him. Second, after telling her everything about herself, he revealed who he truly was to her, the Son of the living God. I love this part because in most of the other writings from the Bible Jesus let others come to the conclusion of His true identity as the Savior but with the woman at the well He went directly to the heart of the matter: Vs26-"Then Jesus declared, "I who speak to you am he.""
The encounter with Him face to face along with His clear declaration that He is the Savior was so compelling to this outcast that she ran back to her village to tell His story. She was so convincing in fact in her witness to what Jesus had said and done for her that this person who had been ridiculed, looked down upon, and derided by her own people, was now leading them to Christ. She of all people Jesus chose to tell His story. The other Samaritans were so thirsty for the water He could give them to drink that they bid Him to stay with them for two days.
I love this story because it reminds me of how God can use any of us, no matter what our walk in life, no matter what we have done in our past, and no matter how we are viewed by others. It also reminds me to not be quick to judge others. They too, might be part of God’s plan for the Good News.
I don’t want to miss out on the Good News they bring. How about you?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
In Memory of Tommy
Writers Note: I wrote this blog initially as an email to a friend of mine on my Blackberry as we were traveling back from the service in Mountain Home, Tennessee today (March 4, 2009). My oldest brother Darrell was doing the driving and our Dad was asleep in the back seat. To get there we had to go through some of the prettiest parts of the North Carolina and Tennessee mountains up Highway 421 and 321. I deliberately did not edit the order or composition because I wanted it to read just like it was originally typed on the Blackberry. The only edits I made were for clarity of subject or object. Thank you Darrell for driving so I could get my thoughts together in this format.
We are on our way back from the memorial. It was in a national military cemetery near Johnson City. It was a full military service outside in a gazebo built just for that purpose. The weather was beautiful and all these mountain folk who my brother has befriended over the last 10 years came up from the area he lived in to the south.
.
One of his best friends and fellow Vietnam vet came up from Concord. He spoke and man it was so from the heart. They had gone to the wall in DC together several times and he had taken a photo of my brother with his green beret on with the Washington Monument in the background. . That photo looked liked something out of a magazine or Vietnam Veteran’s publication. It was displayed along with my brother’s medals and the framed citation telling the story of how he had been a hero. The chaplain read the story during the service and it was incredibly powerful.
When the attendants, color guard from the VFW, the chaplain, and the VA people arrived I started talking to the chaplain. Of course he had never met Tom until Tom's last trip to the VA hospital where the chaplain is assigned. He was young probably about 30. I think I caught him off guard when I asked if I could pray for him before the service. It wasn't that long ago I would not have been able to pray like that for and with a stranger.
The chaplain’s message was one of hope, of Christ love and sacrifice for us, and I am glad that he shared that with the mourners. I hope hearts were touched because without God's love and grace through His Son we are lost.
My oldest brother spoke too and the love that poured out of him for Tom left no dry eye including that of many of the color guard. I did not know this but Darrell had been drafted in the army and had to go to Vietnam. My brother Tom didn't have to go but signed up to support Darrell and they both took their physicals the same day. When Darrell got sent to Nam Tommy didn't have to go but by this time he was a green beret so he volunteered! He VOLUNTEERED! He didn't want his brother to be the only one making the sacrifice! I just stood there stunned and the tears pouring from the eyes of all the vets including my Dad's were overwhelming.
The sounds of a 21 gun salute and then the playing of taps by a lone bugle player in a military cemetery will be in my memory forever. I am not sure I have ever been more thankful for the blessings of living in this great country of ours. It made it quite clear to me that freedom is not free.
One of the most poignant moments of the service came after the gun salute. It was the act of the color guard folding the flag that covered the coffin (box that held my brothers ashes). I had seen that ceremony on TV but never witnessed it in person. The care and precision displayed by the young officer and soldier performing this duty sent chills down my spine. To watch how they valued even the importance of each fold being perfect while still being almost complete still at attention was awe inspiring. When it was completed the commander of the VFW honor guard who performed the gun salute stepped up, saluted the young officer, placed three of the shells (from the gun salute) on top of the flag and saluted again. He was probably in his late 60's and immaculately dressed in full formal uniform. As he performed his task tears poured down his face honoring the memory of a fellow soldier that he had never met! He completely personalized his role in a tribute to my brother. His salute was with a shaking hand yet it was performed with respect for the flag, for our country, and for Tom. When the officer handed the flag to Tom's oldest son, Darron, tears streamed from my eyes and everyone in witness.
His sons Darron (the oldest) spoke about the respect he had for his dad and how his dad had taught him how to work hard. Robbie (the youngest) talked about his dad's love for animals, people, respect for women,and yard sales. Ha ha. Britta his daughter wept as she said she didn't know about all this military stuff but this was her daddy and her safe haven. He was always there for her. And that he was hard headed and we all knew it and she was going to miss him so much.
When it was my turn I felt compelled to tell the story of getting him and his African Grey parrot out of Costa Rica. It was quite an ordeal but throughout it my brother just kept showing love to me and that bird. (This will be the subject of a future blog…it’s a TV movie in the making let me tell you.)
Even with all of the demons that haunted him my brother Tommy touched lives where ever he went. To see the neighbors, the fellow vets, family, and even members of the color guard, gathered in that setting to remember him will be a blessed memory for the rest of my life.
I love you Tommy. I will miss you. You are my brother and one of my biggest heroes.
We are on our way back from the memorial. It was in a national military cemetery near Johnson City. It was a full military service outside in a gazebo built just for that purpose. The weather was beautiful and all these mountain folk who my brother has befriended over the last 10 years came up from the area he lived in to the south.
.
One of his best friends and fellow Vietnam vet came up from Concord. He spoke and man it was so from the heart. They had gone to the wall in DC together several times and he had taken a photo of my brother with his green beret on with the Washington Monument in the background. . That photo looked liked something out of a magazine or Vietnam Veteran’s publication. It was displayed along with my brother’s medals and the framed citation telling the story of how he had been a hero. The chaplain read the story during the service and it was incredibly powerful.
When the attendants, color guard from the VFW, the chaplain, and the VA people arrived I started talking to the chaplain. Of course he had never met Tom until Tom's last trip to the VA hospital where the chaplain is assigned. He was young probably about 30. I think I caught him off guard when I asked if I could pray for him before the service. It wasn't that long ago I would not have been able to pray like that for and with a stranger.
The chaplain’s message was one of hope, of Christ love and sacrifice for us, and I am glad that he shared that with the mourners. I hope hearts were touched because without God's love and grace through His Son we are lost.
My oldest brother spoke too and the love that poured out of him for Tom left no dry eye including that of many of the color guard. I did not know this but Darrell had been drafted in the army and had to go to Vietnam. My brother Tom didn't have to go but signed up to support Darrell and they both took their physicals the same day. When Darrell got sent to Nam Tommy didn't have to go but by this time he was a green beret so he volunteered! He VOLUNTEERED! He didn't want his brother to be the only one making the sacrifice! I just stood there stunned and the tears pouring from the eyes of all the vets including my Dad's were overwhelming.
The sounds of a 21 gun salute and then the playing of taps by a lone bugle player in a military cemetery will be in my memory forever. I am not sure I have ever been more thankful for the blessings of living in this great country of ours. It made it quite clear to me that freedom is not free.
One of the most poignant moments of the service came after the gun salute. It was the act of the color guard folding the flag that covered the coffin (box that held my brothers ashes). I had seen that ceremony on TV but never witnessed it in person. The care and precision displayed by the young officer and soldier performing this duty sent chills down my spine. To watch how they valued even the importance of each fold being perfect while still being almost complete still at attention was awe inspiring. When it was completed the commander of the VFW honor guard who performed the gun salute stepped up, saluted the young officer, placed three of the shells (from the gun salute) on top of the flag and saluted again. He was probably in his late 60's and immaculately dressed in full formal uniform. As he performed his task tears poured down his face honoring the memory of a fellow soldier that he had never met! He completely personalized his role in a tribute to my brother. His salute was with a shaking hand yet it was performed with respect for the flag, for our country, and for Tom. When the officer handed the flag to Tom's oldest son, Darron, tears streamed from my eyes and everyone in witness.
His sons Darron (the oldest) spoke about the respect he had for his dad and how his dad had taught him how to work hard. Robbie (the youngest) talked about his dad's love for animals, people, respect for women,and yard sales. Ha ha. Britta his daughter wept as she said she didn't know about all this military stuff but this was her daddy and her safe haven. He was always there for her. And that he was hard headed and we all knew it and she was going to miss him so much.
When it was my turn I felt compelled to tell the story of getting him and his African Grey parrot out of Costa Rica. It was quite an ordeal but throughout it my brother just kept showing love to me and that bird. (This will be the subject of a future blog…it’s a TV movie in the making let me tell you.)
Even with all of the demons that haunted him my brother Tommy touched lives where ever he went. To see the neighbors, the fellow vets, family, and even members of the color guard, gathered in that setting to remember him will be a blessed memory for the rest of my life.
I love you Tommy. I will miss you. You are my brother and one of my biggest heroes.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
How God Can Manifest His Presence Through You
At one time in my life when I was younger I struggled with the concept of God being real even though my parents poured God all over me like syrup on pancakes. I knew the Bible, participated in every church activity, sang all the hymns, attended Sunday school, youth group, family night, you name it. As I started to grow into my teen years I became aware that there was something missing in my life but I did not know what it was I was seeking. I felt lost, confused, and alone, even though I was surrounded by my family, my church, and friends who were strong in their faith. I was going through the motions but the realness of God was not something I completely owned as the Truth. It was not until I grasped the magnitude of God’s gift of His Son Jesus Christ to die for our sins on the cross and the resurrection and its impact on the disciples did my faith grow into a complete conviction of God’s true existence. For me it was the juxtaposition of the disciples place in the culture of the day, The Roman Empire, and their movement from nobodies to fearless spreaders of the Word. You see, it hit me that those people, those common folk chosen by Jesus to be his followers, had to actually see His death with their own eyes and then see Him alive free from the tomb and the binds of death. This miracle of all miracles convicted these men to sacrifice all and fearlessly go in service to Him even at the risk of their own deaths. The resurrection was real, Jesus was real, and therefore God was truly real!
For many people though, especially those who are hurting, or lost, or just struggling with this whole concept called God, it is difficult for them to believe. When you are hurting it is hard to grasp something that you can not physically touch, feel, hold, or see.
So what does God do then to make his presence known in these forms?
He calls on His followers. He Lives in us and uses us.
When we reach out to the lost and hurting He touches them.
When we share our love with them they feel His presence in our lives.
When we allow those who have trouble standing on their own to hold onto us for support He is holding them up as well.
And when they see our love for them as brothers or sisters in Christ they will see God.
So, if you have someone you know that is lost, who is hurting, or who is seeking this thing called God but is just not there yet what can you do?
Keep touching that person with God’s love. Keep letting them feel God’s presence in your life. Keep being strong in Christ so that they can hold onto you. And let them see God through the love you pour out onto them.
For many people though, especially those who are hurting, or lost, or just struggling with this whole concept called God, it is difficult for them to believe. When you are hurting it is hard to grasp something that you can not physically touch, feel, hold, or see.
So what does God do then to make his presence known in these forms?
He calls on His followers. He Lives in us and uses us.
When we reach out to the lost and hurting He touches them.
When we share our love with them they feel His presence in our lives.
When we allow those who have trouble standing on their own to hold onto us for support He is holding them up as well.
And when they see our love for them as brothers or sisters in Christ they will see God.
So, if you have someone you know that is lost, who is hurting, or who is seeking this thing called God but is just not there yet what can you do?
Keep touching that person with God’s love. Keep letting them feel God’s presence in your life. Keep being strong in Christ so that they can hold onto you. And let them see God through the love you pour out onto them.
Monday, February 23, 2009
On This Rock....
Jesus referred to Peter as the rock on which He would build His church. I love that visual, that solid foundation that Jesus was going to establish through Peter. Throughout the Bible the rock metaphor is used time and again to symbolize strength, a firm foundation, and an unmoving foothold for us as Christ followers on which to stand.
What ever you are going through this day remember that symbol of the rock and how God's love through the sending of his Son Jesus to die for our sins provides that solid foundation on which to stand, cling to, and feel safe in the storm.
Psalm 27:5 (New International Version)
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
What ever you are going through this day remember that symbol of the rock and how God's love through the sending of his Son Jesus to die for our sins provides that solid foundation on which to stand, cling to, and feel safe in the storm.
Psalm 27:5 (New International Version)
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
Friday, February 6, 2009
The Beginnings of a Lay Ministry
Editors Note: This was written back in November but never made it to this blog.
The Beginning of a Lay Ministry
Wednesday, November 19, 2008 at 12:44am
Over the last two years I have been stuck in neutral. Not really moving forward in my spiritual life but not really moving back either. I have known for a long time that God has had a plan for me (like He has for all of us) but I have been trying to guide that plan, direct that plan, and look for that plan in the place I wanted to be. What I found during that effort is that was not what He had in mind. Earlier in the year my minister Mike told me that I had to get off of neutral and just plug in with service. Just plug in, get moving forward and God's direction would be revealed.
I did that, volunteering for the set up team for Remix a contemporary service on steroids. Rather than trying to choose the direction I was suppose to be going I just became submissive to God's will. Things started to become clearer and I felt like I was finally on track with the direction. Serving and working and still searching for that direction.
Challenges began to get in the way. For many of those who know me are aware that my small property management company ran into some serious financial challenges. Combine that with an extracted pitched battle with obtaining building permits, the downturn in the economy affecting my recruiting business, and health issues in my household, my direction quickly started being totally side tracked and led away. After months of depression, frustration, and severe unhappiness, I was at my wits end, only holding things together because my family and my staff needed me to do so. It was a challenge just to stay motivated enough to go to work each day and give an effort.
Finally , when I was almost completely broke down, one night at the Sunday service I became single mindedly focused on putting in a prayer request during the response time (we have a box up front in the auditorium that during the response time you can go and put prayer request in) for God to resolve my bank issue. You see, the bank that told us they would finance our two big projects withdrew from the process and put us in jeopardy of losing our properties. I had decided that when I went up I was going to ask God to help us get the loans from another bank.
When the time came I went to the front, got down at the stage, and began to write my request. I closed my eyes and said a prayer asking for God's help and then when I was finished opened my eyes and looked down at the paper. When I read the writing on the paper that was in my hand writing I had not written one word about the loan, our business, and the need for help. Instead the words on the paper said "Dear God, if it be your will, lead me into a lay ministry".
I was dumbfounded. For the last three hours all I had thought about was writing a prayer request for a loan. All I could think about was my selfish need of that project loan. But here, on the paper, in my hand, was this request. I was so rattled I hardly spoke to anyone during the tear down after the service except to tell Chad what had happened.
The next day, still rattled by this experience, an experience like no other I had ever had in my life, I went to work still wondering where this was all coming from. And then it hit me. There was an email from George the CFO of our church asking me if I would be interested in helping with advising some of the people in our church that were job hunting due to being unemployed or seriously underemployed.
With that email and that submission to God's direction, a new lay ministry was born.
Now after teaching the second of what is to become the first phase of a Career focused ministry (tonight), a class called Job Search Basics, it is very clear that the new lay ministry is to work with a variety of career related programs that can assist our church membership and community. We hope to develop a full on career/job centered program that will offer a wide array of career development initiatives, skills training, job search skills, resume writing training, building value in the workplace, and even possibly ad full on GED program for the community at large.
I am writing this in hopes that all of my friends pray for that there be guidance and direction with this ministry and my involvement. Also, as we develop the plan, I look forward to any suggestions or ideas that you may have that could add to the different types of programs and services we develop.
It is just a start, but that direction I have been looking for and have frankly been avoiding is now clear. Now, it's all about being submissive and doing God's will. He's done all the hard work. Now it's just time to follow Him.
The Beginning of a Lay Ministry
Wednesday, November 19, 2008 at 12:44am
Over the last two years I have been stuck in neutral. Not really moving forward in my spiritual life but not really moving back either. I have known for a long time that God has had a plan for me (like He has for all of us) but I have been trying to guide that plan, direct that plan, and look for that plan in the place I wanted to be. What I found during that effort is that was not what He had in mind. Earlier in the year my minister Mike told me that I had to get off of neutral and just plug in with service. Just plug in, get moving forward and God's direction would be revealed.
I did that, volunteering for the set up team for Remix a contemporary service on steroids. Rather than trying to choose the direction I was suppose to be going I just became submissive to God's will. Things started to become clearer and I felt like I was finally on track with the direction. Serving and working and still searching for that direction.
Challenges began to get in the way. For many of those who know me are aware that my small property management company ran into some serious financial challenges. Combine that with an extracted pitched battle with obtaining building permits, the downturn in the economy affecting my recruiting business, and health issues in my household, my direction quickly started being totally side tracked and led away. After months of depression, frustration, and severe unhappiness, I was at my wits end, only holding things together because my family and my staff needed me to do so. It was a challenge just to stay motivated enough to go to work each day and give an effort.
Finally , when I was almost completely broke down, one night at the Sunday service I became single mindedly focused on putting in a prayer request during the response time (we have a box up front in the auditorium that during the response time you can go and put prayer request in) for God to resolve my bank issue. You see, the bank that told us they would finance our two big projects withdrew from the process and put us in jeopardy of losing our properties. I had decided that when I went up I was going to ask God to help us get the loans from another bank.
When the time came I went to the front, got down at the stage, and began to write my request. I closed my eyes and said a prayer asking for God's help and then when I was finished opened my eyes and looked down at the paper. When I read the writing on the paper that was in my hand writing I had not written one word about the loan, our business, and the need for help. Instead the words on the paper said "Dear God, if it be your will, lead me into a lay ministry".
I was dumbfounded. For the last three hours all I had thought about was writing a prayer request for a loan. All I could think about was my selfish need of that project loan. But here, on the paper, in my hand, was this request. I was so rattled I hardly spoke to anyone during the tear down after the service except to tell Chad what had happened.
The next day, still rattled by this experience, an experience like no other I had ever had in my life, I went to work still wondering where this was all coming from. And then it hit me. There was an email from George the CFO of our church asking me if I would be interested in helping with advising some of the people in our church that were job hunting due to being unemployed or seriously underemployed.
With that email and that submission to God's direction, a new lay ministry was born.
Now after teaching the second of what is to become the first phase of a Career focused ministry (tonight), a class called Job Search Basics, it is very clear that the new lay ministry is to work with a variety of career related programs that can assist our church membership and community. We hope to develop a full on career/job centered program that will offer a wide array of career development initiatives, skills training, job search skills, resume writing training, building value in the workplace, and even possibly ad full on GED program for the community at large.
I am writing this in hopes that all of my friends pray for that there be guidance and direction with this ministry and my involvement. Also, as we develop the plan, I look forward to any suggestions or ideas that you may have that could add to the different types of programs and services we develop.
It is just a start, but that direction I have been looking for and have frankly been avoiding is now clear. Now, it's all about being submissive and doing God's will. He's done all the hard work. Now it's just time to follow Him.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Practice Makes Perfect
Today was a long day. It started early and of course now is ending early the next morning. I did not get to bed last night until very late and I couldn't fall asleep for the longest time. Needless to say I am tired. But there has been something on my heart and mind all day that I just had to get down before collapsing and doing it all again in a few hours.
Today was the day I was to teach the Job Search Basics Class for the Cove Church. This is the beginning of what I hope becomes a full lay directed ministry for our church focused on employment call Career Life Ministry. It will evolve into a comprehensive outreach that will assist those unemployed or under employed, people trying to improve themselves in their current employment, or help educate those who want to better there opportunities in the workplace. The timing of this ministry could not have been better in light of the current economic challenges we are facing.
On my way to my office this morning I stopped by "It Don't Matter" Cafe to grab a tea. I was in a hurry but being that this is a small town being in a hurry and stopping in a place like "It Don't Matter" doesn't match up. It's like Cheers in that everyone knows your name and will want to talk to you. Those of you that know me well know I never met a conversation that I couldn't extend. And today was one of those days.
I ran into a friend of mine who was sitting with a young minister and through various diatribes and exchanges about all of the crazy stuff I have going on somehow the discussion turned to people suffering in despair. I am sure it came up because I talked about the Career Life Ministry inviting her to share it with her flock. In the conversation it hit me that in despair we cry out to God to save us but it doesn't always have the quick result we crave. . In that darkest hour we finally are broken to the point that we yell out to God imploring Him to come save us. We are looking for some instant "beam me up Scotty" experience where by which God just snatches us out of or misery and makes everything right again. More often than not, that immediate rescue does not happen. Matter of fact, often times it seems as though that God didn't hear us at all and just leaves us there alone. We feel abandoned and lost and our depair is quickly magnified. Discouragement combines with our misery and often times our thoughts turn to questions about God's existence and participation in our lives. Hitting the prayer panic button it seems is a waste of our time and our hope no longer is there.
As I left the conversation and began walking to my office I thought about this and about a situation a friend of mine is facing right now and I wondered why God does not answer us in our time and it hit me that maybe the problem lies not in God's timing but our understanding of how God works in time.
Maybe, I surmised, had we been the obedient followers of Him and had practiced turning everything over to God, that we would have a better sense for God's timing and through that understanding manage our despair differently. Maybe, if we gave everything to Him, lifted up all of our anxieties, fears, problems, stress, failures, successes, blessings, gifts, family, everything God would use that continual dialogue to reveal time and again how He works in our lives not by our clock but by His timepiece. By practicing our followership of our Father through submitting everything to Him and praising Him for the blessings in our lives we would gather experience in God's timing. This understanding would help sustain us and motivate us to stand strong in our despair, submit to Him, and wait patiently for God to reveal His plan for us.
They say Practice makes Perfect. Practice turning everything over to God. You will be amazed at how Perfect God's plan is for your life.
1 Peter 1 3-9
.
3Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, 5who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
Today was the day I was to teach the Job Search Basics Class for the Cove Church. This is the beginning of what I hope becomes a full lay directed ministry for our church focused on employment call Career Life Ministry. It will evolve into a comprehensive outreach that will assist those unemployed or under employed, people trying to improve themselves in their current employment, or help educate those who want to better there opportunities in the workplace. The timing of this ministry could not have been better in light of the current economic challenges we are facing.
On my way to my office this morning I stopped by "It Don't Matter" Cafe to grab a tea. I was in a hurry but being that this is a small town being in a hurry and stopping in a place like "It Don't Matter" doesn't match up. It's like Cheers in that everyone knows your name and will want to talk to you. Those of you that know me well know I never met a conversation that I couldn't extend. And today was one of those days.
I ran into a friend of mine who was sitting with a young minister and through various diatribes and exchanges about all of the crazy stuff I have going on somehow the discussion turned to people suffering in despair. I am sure it came up because I talked about the Career Life Ministry inviting her to share it with her flock. In the conversation it hit me that in despair we cry out to God to save us but it doesn't always have the quick result we crave. . In that darkest hour we finally are broken to the point that we yell out to God imploring Him to come save us. We are looking for some instant "beam me up Scotty" experience where by which God just snatches us out of or misery and makes everything right again. More often than not, that immediate rescue does not happen. Matter of fact, often times it seems as though that God didn't hear us at all and just leaves us there alone. We feel abandoned and lost and our depair is quickly magnified. Discouragement combines with our misery and often times our thoughts turn to questions about God's existence and participation in our lives. Hitting the prayer panic button it seems is a waste of our time and our hope no longer is there.
As I left the conversation and began walking to my office I thought about this and about a situation a friend of mine is facing right now and I wondered why God does not answer us in our time and it hit me that maybe the problem lies not in God's timing but our understanding of how God works in time.
Maybe, I surmised, had we been the obedient followers of Him and had practiced turning everything over to God, that we would have a better sense for God's timing and through that understanding manage our despair differently. Maybe, if we gave everything to Him, lifted up all of our anxieties, fears, problems, stress, failures, successes, blessings, gifts, family, everything God would use that continual dialogue to reveal time and again how He works in our lives not by our clock but by His timepiece. By practicing our followership of our Father through submitting everything to Him and praising Him for the blessings in our lives we would gather experience in God's timing. This understanding would help sustain us and motivate us to stand strong in our despair, submit to Him, and wait patiently for God to reveal His plan for us.
They say Practice makes Perfect. Practice turning everything over to God. You will be amazed at how Perfect God's plan is for your life.
1 Peter 1 3-9
.
3Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, 5who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
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