The Rest of the Story...

With the schedule that I have, spending Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in Oho followed by Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday back home in Indiana, it is no wonder that I feel like I am living in two different worlds. When I wake up on Thursday morning, it is almost like starting a totally different week. The first thing always on my agenda is to begin to prepare for Sunday’s worship. I am not sure that there is anything that I do that is more important or takes more time than Sunday’s preparations.

This morning, however, my workload is just a little bit lighter. This Sunday is Gideon Sunday which means that someone from the Gideon Organization will be at church and share with the congregations what has been going on with their Bible distribution since last year. The Gideon’s Organization has always had a very special place in my heart since the time so many years ago that I received my first Bible, a small, red, New Testament. I still have that Bible which I so carefully inscribed my name in, “Jimmy Higdon,” so long ago.

Unfortunately, for me, there is something else that always comes to mind when the Gideon speaker comes, which is not such a pleasant memory for me, and that is the story about the first Bible that I did not receive. I really don’t remember how old I was, I could not have been more than first or second grade while my family regularly attended the First Baptist church in my home town. The Sunday School class which I attended, was involved in a special program, that upon completion, we were going to be recognized in front of the entire congregation and presented with a Bible of our very own. Of course this was very exciting and something which I looked forward to very much.

The big day finally arrived and my entire class, perhaps 20 of us stood in front of the congregation prepared to receive this precious gift of a Bible. I watched as the Pastor went down the line reaching out his arm to shake the hand of each classmate and handing them a Bible. When it was my turn, I remember stretching out my hand to the Pastor to receive my Bible when he looked at me, and then he looked down at his list and said, “He doesn’t get one.” He then continued on down the line.

I can’t begin to tell you how devastating that was to me. In reality, it is one of my earliest memories, and one that even to this day brings a twinge of pain. (Isn’t that strange how our mind’s work) Of course I wasn’t the only one upset, my Mother was livid and she went immediatly to find out why I didn’t receive a Bible, and maybe more importantly, why they chose to humiliate me in front of the entire congregation. The answer that she received was that I was absent one Sunday so that I didn’t qualify. My mother, arguing my case, said that they knew that I was ill, and that she and my sister had been in attendence that Sunday, and had informed the Sunday School teacher that I had stayed home with my Dad. She was under the assumption that being too ill to attend church would have been a valid excuse and exception to their ridiculous rule. My Mother didn’t win the argument.

Our family walked out the door of that church and I didn’t return to any church for more than 10 years, until High School when I became involved in the youth group of the Congregational Church which was led by my Physics teacher. Ultimately, that was the church where Karen and I got married.

As I reflect back on that day, which I tend to do every year when the Gideon speaker comes, I think about the far reaching effects of what I would now, as an adult, consider a stupid, Pharisee type enforcement of an arbitrary rule. Their actions caused a good and faithful family, who attended church every Sunday, to not only stop attending their church, but any church for many years. I sometimes wonder, if they ever reflect on their decision?

Now you may ask, what does Gideon Sunday have to do with this sad memory? I am glad that you asked. Gideon Sunday, to me, is an ever present reminder of God’s grace in my life. You see, it wasn’t more than a week or two after my humiliating experience at church that a man came to my classroom at school, walked over to me, reached out his hand to mine and said, young man, would you like to have a Bible of your very own? He then handed me this precious, red bound Bible, my very first copy of God’s word which I still have and cherish to this very day. God is good all the time, and now you know the rest of the story!

Blessings

I'm Going to Sing....

I sometimes wonder why I keep putting myself through all of this stress. Maybe I should be asking God why He keeps putting me through it. For some reason I don’t think my Homiletics (preaching) professor likes me. I told you about how after my first sermon I was really hammered by the class because they didn’t agree with my theology. And today, I went back into the lion’s den to do another 3 minute mini sermon.

I began my sermon by singing a 30 second section of a song which says, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Then I went on to make my point and finally finished with the scripture: Choose today who you will serve, as for me and my house we will serve the Lord. Very nice. (at least I thought it was)

When it came time to critique my sermon he mentioned about how sometimes a song can be used in place of good exegetical work, (hmmmm the song only lasted 30 seconds for heavens sake) Some of my classmates ummmed and awwwed for at least that much time. Then he said, "I don’t mean Jim, but some folks just shouldn’t sing anytime." He went on to talk about a preacher that he had who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket who always sang “Old Rugged Cross” at Easter. This explanation went on for about five minutes. So a little later in class during a small group discussion a couple of my classmates commented on my song and said that I should help our group by singing the answer when our time came. I said, "uhhhh didn’t you hear the 5 minute discussion about why you shouldn’t sing in a sermon?" To which they replied, "but he said that he wasn’t talking about you." So maybe I am just being overly sensitive. We prima donna’s can get that way sometimes you know.

Anyway, I actually don’t use music very often during my sermons, but when the moment seems right, I have been known to throw in a song or two. And besides, one thing I have learned about preaching is that you can’t please everyone, so for those of you who are now quaking out of fear that my pride is injured and you will never hear me sing again, (if my Mom were still alive that would be all one of you) Naaaaaaaa, "I'm gonna sing just as long as it takes for a song to make sad, heavy spirits free. I'm gonna keep making music that carries the secret that Jesus is liberty. I'm gonna turn off the sounds that would drag people down to the pit of despondency. With the sweet happy tune He is coming soon for His children like you and me."

Blessings

“Does God Still Speak to People?”

Have you ever wondered whether or not God still speaks to people as he did back in Biblical days? I know that my answer is that yes he definitely does. The problem is that we aren’t willing to listen, and when we do receive a miracle we are too willing to credit it to “good luck” rather than to divine providence. My friend Don keeps me busy with stories and emails, and this is one that I thought you should all read.

A young man had been to Wednesday Night Bible Study. The Pastor had shared about listening to God and obeying the Lord's voice. The young man couldn't help but wonder, 'Does God still speak to people?' After the service, he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they discussed the message. Several different ones talked about how God had led them in different ways.

It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, 'God...If you still speak to people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey.' As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought to stop and buy a gallon of milk.

He shook his head and said out loud, 'God is that you?' He didn't get a reply and started on toward home. But again came the thought, buy a gallon of milk. The young man thought about Samuel and how he didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli. 'Okay, God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk.' It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home.

As he passed Seventh Street , he again felt the urge, 'Turn Down that street.' This is crazy he thought, and drove on past the intersection. Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street .. At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh. Half jokingly, he said out loud, 'Okay, God, I will.'

He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi- commercial area of town. It wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either. The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in bed.

Again, he sensed something, 'Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street.' The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat. 'Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I will look stupid.' Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk.

Finally, he opened the door, 'Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to be obedient. I guess that will count for something, but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here.'

He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, 'Who is it? What do you want?' Then the door opened before the young man could get away. The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he just got out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. 'What is it?'

The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, 'Here, I brought this to you.' The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway. Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face.

The man began speaking and half crying, 'We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk.'

His wife in the kitchen yelled out, 'I ask him to send an Angel with some. Are you an Angel?' The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car and the tears were streaming down his face. He knew that God still answers prayers.

Does God still speak to us? Does He still answer prayers? Oh yes, He definitely does. My prayer for you is that sometime this week, you allow God to work through you and like the man in the story, that you become the answer to someone else’s prayers!

Blessings

What Once Was Lost...

As I was preparing to let you know what I have been thinking about today, I had the distinct feeling that maybe I have been whining too much. I hope that isn’t the case, but I haven’t decided if today’s post is whining or not. I will let you be the judge of that.

Karen’s Brother Jim sent an email today and one of the accompanying video links was about Radio Controlled airplanes. Well, since this used to be a real passion of mine, I decided to check out the link and see what it was about. For the next 7 minutes I watched amazed as a Radio Controlled, 4 engine, 6 foot wingspan, B29 Bomber took off and was flown quite masterfully. What made this even more exciting was the model of the Bell X-1, (the first plane to break the sound barrier, piloted by Chuck Yeager) tucked underneath the B-29’s wing. The B-29 released the X-1 which coasted down over the runway, when all of a sudden the rocket engine was ignited and the plane shot immediately 200 feet in the air. It was really a remarkable sight, and as someone who has had a little bit of experience with both RC airplanes and model rocketry, I understand how technically difficult that was to pull off.

The next thing that has had me thinking stemmed from a conversation that I had this week working with the Cub Scouts on their "God and Me" program. We were talking about the stars, and I mentioned to them about how the Andromeda Galaxy was the furthest object that can be seen with the naked eye, approximately 2.5 million light years away, and how right now Jupiter was so easy to see in the night time southern sky and that Venus was easy to see in the western sky right after sunset.

Both of these got me to thinking about how much I miss some of the things that I have given up over the past four or five years as I have struggled to answer God’s call. I am frequently asked if I miss my Chiropractic practice which I can easily answer No. I miss the people but not the work. But I realize that there are things that I have missed very much. I have missed the freedom to go to the mountains and to Myrtle Beach each year, I miss going out on Sunday afternoon’s to the flying field with the guys and flying radio controlled airplanes. I miss the quiet hours spent in the backyard with my telescope wondering what was happening on earth 2.5 million years ago when the light that I was seeing left the Andromeda Galaxy, and I miss the hours spent in my workshop making things from wood like Mary and Andrew’s Crib. (Shopsmith called it sawdust therapy)

On the other hand, I also know how richly I have been blessed. I realize that there is nothing on earth I would rather be doing, and I pray each day that God allow me to continue on the path that He has set for me. I guess that maybe it is ok to whine once in awhile, I certainly know that the Israelites sure did their share of it when they were wandering in the wilderness, which is how I feel sometimes. But in spite of what I may feel that I have lost in this journey, I know in my heart that I can count as a gain.

Blessings

PS: Maybe I will go ahead and haul out my telescope tonight and watch Jupiter's moon Ganymede disappears into eclipse by Jupiter's shadow. Anyone want to join me?

Can I Borrow $25?

I spent time this afternoon with a very precious person. We talked about life and what makes life special. When I got home I read an email sent to me by Don, who does a good job of forwarding to me those things that just seem to arrive at the right time to put life into perspective. I hope that you don’t find yourself in this man’s position.

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.

SON: 'Daddy, may I ask you a question?'

DAD: 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.

SON: 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?'

DAD: 'That's none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily.

SON: 'I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'

DAD: 'If you must know, I make $50 an hour.'

SON: 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down.

SON: 'Daddy, may I please borrow $25?'

The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I don't work hard every day for such childish frivolities.' The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's' questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?

After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think: Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $25.00, and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door. 'Are you asleep, son?' He asked. 'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy. 'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man. 'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $25 you asked for.'

The little boy sat straight up, smiling. 'Oh, thank you daddy!' He yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills. The man saw that the boy already had money, and started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father. 'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled. Because I didn't have enough, but now I do,' the little boy replied. 'Daddy, I have $50 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.' The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.

It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. Do remember to share that $50 worth of your time with someone you love. If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of hours. But the family & friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.

How much do you make per hour? Is there someone in your life that could really use an hour of your time? Are you willing to give that hour to someone who needs it? Is it that child next door who only has a mother or a father? Is it the elderly person living down the street or in the nursing home? Could it be someone living right in your own house? Each of us has an expiration date, and the day will come when we will no longer be able to share those hours with those who are important to us.

Who needs an hour of your time today?

Blessings

Tragedy and Heartbreak...

I picked up a book at Annual Conference this year from the bargain table titled "Choosing the Amusing, Finding Humor and Joy Beneath the Rubble of Life," by Marilyn Meberg. The premise of the book is that it is always good to laugh and that if we are open to the humor, we can find it even in the most difficult circumstances.

Well, yesterday I had that opportunity. Two of my favorite people are Leslie, my Massage Therapist, and her mother Debbie. For many years now they have given me a Pumpkin Pie for my Birthday. I can say without a doubt that these are the best pies that I have ever had in my life. I am not sure what kind of spices that they use, but if I were a condemned man, for my last meal I would request Debbie’s pumpkin pie.

Yesterday, Leslie gave me one of these wonderful masterpieces and I have to admit that I almost didn’t make it home without pulling over and sampling a piece. Probably the only thing that stopped me was the fact that I didn’t have a knife, and I didn’t want to deal with the mess that digging in without a knife might have caused, although I did contemplate the scenario in my head.

When I got home, the first order of business was to sit down and eat the first slice of this magnificent creation, a few minutes later, I was out the door, taking Communion to a parishioner.

A little while later, I returned home to the most devastating sight that I have ever witnessed. In the middle of the kitchen floor was the pie pan, no pie, just the pie pan. As the horror of the situation began to come to me, I turned to see my dog, (or should I say Karen’s dog) Odie sitting beside me looking especially guilty. Suddenly the full reality struck me. Odie had gotten up on the table and had eaten my precious pie. My beautiful, scrumptious, once a year pumpkin pie! The shock was almost overwhelming, then it dawned on me, recalling the time that he had eaten an entire 1lb bag of M&M’s that perhaps I had better get him outdoors fast.

Moments like these are defining moments in ones relationship and our call to forgive is put to the test. (of course, I am not sure that we are Biblically called to forgive the dog who ate our Birthday Pie)

In case you are wondering, Odie is still alive this morning. I didn’t kill him and neither did eating an entire pumpkin pie. And, as in all things, I try to learn lessons from “beneath the rubble of life.”( I certainly think that this situation would qualify as the rubble of life.) The lessons learned would be to make sure that I put my pie up higher next time, and the second is to eat a bigger piece when I get the chance.

Ok, I am sure that there is a deeper theological lesson in there somewhere, I’m just not ready to think about that yet.

Blessings

PS: Yes, I do remember a similar situation that happened many years ago, actually I have tried to block it from my mind, but maybe I will share that story at Thanksgiving. Or do I tell the one about Ben? So much to tell… so little time…..

The Impending Storm

As I prepare to listen to the 2nd Presidential Debate, I am struck by something of great concern to me. A few weeks ago, we here in the Midwest experienced a tremendous wind storm that in reality paled in comparison to the effect that it had on Texas. I believe that we as a society are facing an impending storm every bit as real and very much more powerful today. This will be a storm not created by polarized air masses, but by the ever increasing polarization of our society. Just as a thunder storm is precipitated by the collision of two opposing air masses, one warm and one cold, the storm that I perceive approaching will be caused by forces equally as powerful and certainly much less predictable.

Every where that one looks in our society, polarization and its effects can be seen. Politically, we are divided into red states and blue states, Republican and Democrat, and conservative verses liberal. We are further politically divided by pro-war and anti-war, those who would leave our troops in Iraq and those who would bring them home now. We are divided by issues of homosexuality, abortion, bigotry and race. We face the issues of illegal immigration and border security, those who would build an immense wall to keep out the “undesirables,” and others who would welcome all who will come. Our churches are also divided into conservative verses liberal camps, each one flooding our mailboxes and airwaves in an effort to garner support for their particular beliefs and doctrines. We find that it is no longer enough to love our God with all of our minds and souls and strength, and love our neighbor as ourselves, we must also pass certain litmus tests of our faith. Each of these tests as well as others are considered by some to be a prerequisite in order to verify that we truly are Christians. Even within our own churches the battles rage over contemporary verse traditional services, hymns verses praise music and even pews verses chairs.

It would be my desire for our society and church to focus on the areas in which we find agreement and then work to reconcile on areas of disagreement. “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself (2 Corinthians 5:18-19).

Reconciliation and forgiveness have always been difficult, however, today they have moved beyond difficult to critical. The world is in a financial crises, we have major powers amassing military forces, atrocities of terror pulling at the very fabric of society, nations hovering on the brink of what could be nuclear war, and ancient local animosities and hatred threatening to become global threats capable of killing millions of people and poisoning millions more.

The opening words spoken by Jesus as he began his ministry are: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news" (Mark 1:15). It is time to step forward in faith, and it is time to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ. It is also a time to rediscover, even reimagine our faiths, for we cannot send the message of truth into the world if we do not get and understand the message for ourselves.

It is my prayer today that we seek reconciliation and peace, not the peace that the world gives, but the peace that passes all understanding through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Blessing