Poems, Prayers, and Promises from a Country Parson

Sermon Manuscript for February 12, 2012-"The Healing Steps."

2012-02-12T04:41:00.001-08:00

This morning I would like to pick up and continue a conversation we began last week. Knowing how hard it can be just to pick up a conversation that ended 7 days ago and for the sake of those who weren’t here to be part of that conversation and those who where here and have forgotten, let me take a moment or two to review what we talked about last Sunday.
    Last Sunday we began a conversation about the Christian theology of healing. In the broadest sense of the word, Healing is about wholeness. God wants and desires for all of us to be whole. God’s grace is still at work bringing healing into the lives of the broken: sometimes with doctors, sometimes with therapy, sometimes with miracle, sometimes gradually over time, sometimes on this side of eternity, but always on the other side of eternity. So our concern shouldn’t be if God heals, but simply when God heals.
    God has also given the church a divine mission. That mission is: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”   And to complete this mission the church has been given three important tasks: preach, teach, and heal.
    Preaching is the sharing of the good news of Jesus Christ-the gospel.
    Teaching is explaining the good news of the gospel.
    Healing is making the good news of the gospel alive and real in our lives.
    So preaching would be sharing this bit of good news, “Jesus said, ‘Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has trouble of its own.”
    Teaching would be a Sunday school, bible study, or another small group talking about worry and how it keeps us from living for today.
    Healing would be allowing God to work in your life to help you let go of the fears of loneliness, scarcity, or uncertainty that get you all wrapped up in worry and keeps you from living for today. Healing would be trusting in God for today and tomorrow.

    Last week we also pondered the question, “What is keeping you from the healing presence of Jesus?” We saw how ignorance, doubt, fear, not wanting to be healed, and the Sabbath law could have all been factors that caused the people of Capernaum to wait until sunset to come into the healing presence of Jesus.
    This morning I want to continue our discussion about healing by looking at what I call “The Healing Steps.” I came across the “The Healing Steps” in the this book “God’s Healing Community.” This book was written by Dr. Frank Bateman Stanger. Stanger was a well respected preacher, professor, and long time president of Asbury Theological Seminary. This book is still in print and I suggest you read it for more information and inspiration.
    Like I said last week the healing steps are not a magical formula or incantation that give us the power to control God’s will. However, they are a set of ordered practices and disciplines that help us position our lives so we can best receive the healing grace God offers to us.
    But before we look at the healing steps, I want us to look at an Old Testament story that bears witness to these steps. If you want to know more about the healing steps, please turn to 2 Kings 5 as we look at the story of Naaman the Leper.

    The Bible tells us the following information about Naaman...

    Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master and in high favor, because by him the LORD had given victory to Syria.

    Naaman is a gentile. He is not a Jew, but that doesn’t matter to God. God is at work in his life and Naaman isn’t a believer in Yahweh. If you are looking for an example of previenent grace, that is the grace that goes before us and woos us into knowing about God, here it is.

    He was a mighty man of valor, but (as we would say in Southern talk...Naaman had everything going for him, but bless his heart) he was a leper.

I think it is important to clarify that that leper is a broad and generic term. Leper refers to anyone with a skin disease or rash. In the Old Testament times, I would be called a leper because from time to time I have breakouts of severe dry skin known as eczema. If you read in Leviticus there are lengthy chapters that describe the various skin diseases and tell how the priest can discern if it is a serious case of leprosy or just a rash. So please note, this doesn’t mean Naaman had the severe case of leprosy that caused skin and fingers to fall off. I doubt Naaman had the severe case of leprosy that we now know as Hansen disease because a leper wouldn’t be able to be a military leader or an advisor to the king. Kings wouldn’t risk catching such a nasty disease.

    Naaman’s success reveals something about his character. He didn’t allow his sickness or disease to keep him from living. He didn’t allow his sickness or disease to be an excuse. He rose above his troubles and became a great man, but bless his heart he was still a leper.

    The Bible continues to tell us about God at work in Naaman’s life.

    Now the Syrians on one of their raids had carried off a little girl from the land of Israel, and she worked in the service of Naaman's wife. She said to her mistress, “Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.”

    This too is another example of God’s grace at work redeeming something terrible into something good. Here is this slave girl, captured and taken away from her people, her home, and her religion; however, God uses her situation to change Naaman’s life.

I think the scripture shares something else about Naaman’s character or at least about the character of his wife. His wife wasn’t too full of herself to ignore the advice of her servant. His wife hears this word of hope and tells her husband about a cure. Naaman doesn’t want to be a leper so he seeks out this cure.

    So Naaman went in and told his lord, “Thus and so spoke the girl from the land of Israel.” And the king of Syria said, “Go now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel.”

    So he went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten changes of clothing. And he brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you Naaman my servant, that you may cure him of his leprosy.”

Naaman isn’t a light packer. He loads up for his trip to Israel. He brings all this gold as gift to the king. When I read this all I could think of is a “co-pay.” But as we see the king of Israel isn’t much help to Naaman.

And when the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to kill and to make alive, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Only consider, and see how he is seeking a quarrel with me.”

This bit of information really tells us something about the King of Israel. The King of Israel doesn’t know about the man of God in his own kingdom. Elisha doesn’t even cross the king’s mind. He doesn’t even think about the man who had healed bitter and poisoned water, helped Israel and Judah fight and have victory over the Moabites, raised the dead son of the shumminite woman, and purified the deadly stew a group of prophets had eaten. A jewish servant in a foreign kingdom knew about the man of God, but the king of the prophet’s own kingdom was ignorant of the man of God in his midst.

But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent to the king, saying, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come now to me, that he may know that there is a prophet in Israel.”

Friends this is another example of humor in the Bible.

So Naaman came with his horses and chariots and stood at the door of Elisha's house. And Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean.”

    Naaman finally arrives at the right place. He comes to the Prophet’s house. He descends like a big wig: chariots, a crowd of servants, all the treasure he had brought to pay the prophet who would heal him.
    I find this funny because how many times have you gone to the doctor’s office and you didn't get to see the doctor? Naaman doesn’t see the doctor, or the physicians assistant, not even a nurse. Elisha sends out the janitor, his servant. The servant tells Naaman what he must do to be healed of his leprosy.
    This is almost the miracle that doesn’t happen.

    But Naaman was angry and went away, saying, “Behold, I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call upon the name of the LORD his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” So he turned and went away in a rage.

    Naaman is angry. He has come this far to be cured and he doesn’t even get to see the man of God. A servant comes out and tells him to jump in a muddy river. This isn’t what Naaman expected. He is mad. He is disappointed. He almost misses his miracle. Yet again we see Naaman’s character. He listens to the advice of others...

But his servants came near and said to him, “My father, it is a great word the prophet has spoken to you; will you not do it? Has he actually said to you, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” So he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God, and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.

So Naaman listens. He goes into the river seven times. Seven is a symbolic number. Seven is the number of perfection and wholeness. You might say seven is a symbol of healing. And now the story of Naaman’s life changes. The story of Naaman’s life now reads:

Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master and in high favor, because by him the LORD had given victory to Syria. He was a mighty man of valor, at one time he was a leper, but now he is healed.

I think it is important to briefly tell you the rest of Naaman’s story. This miracle changed Naaman’s life in many ways. Not only was he no longer a leper, but this miracle changes his heart. Naaman became a follower of Yahweh, the God of Israel. He carries dirt from the land of Israel so he can worship and offer sacrifices to the God who healed him.

As I read the story of Naaman I see examples of the principles of the healing steps. Again, these healing steps are insights based on the work of the late Reverend Doctor Frank Bateman Stanger.

Determine if you are sick or think you are sick? Or are you simply tired?
Clarify your need and discover what you must do.
Inner/ spiritual/ emotional problem?
Emotional problems can really affect your health. Christian therapist and pastor David Seamands did a lot of work in this area. If you have had emotional pain or abuse in your life I highly suggest you read Healing for Damaged Emotions and Healing for Damaged Memories.
Some of you all might remember the movie The Three Faces of Eve. This movie told the story of a woman who was plagued with severe emotional pain that evidenced itself as multiple personality disorder. When Eve found healing for her emotional pain, she found healing for her whole life.
Organic/ structural problem? Could you have a problem with part of your body-kidney’s aren’t working, muscle pain, can’t see well, etc. Or structural: a broken bone, a pulled muscle, etc.
Determine who you need to seek help from: Doctor, pastor, or a counselor?
And through all of these steps pray. Take a look at your bulletin insert:

Relaxation--relax and trust in God.
Purging--Confess your sin before God. Clean your heart of those things that grieve the heart of God.
Clarification--Clarify the need you want to lift up to God. Be specific about the area that needs to be made whole.
Consecration--Offer your life, your health, and your future to God.
Anticipation--Visualize God's healing grace bringing wholeness to the place of brokenness in your life.
Appropriation--Use your health and wholeness to honor God.

Pastoral Prayer for February 12, 2012

2012-02-12T04:36:00.001-08:00

Almighty God, the Bible reminds us that, “You look down from heaven and see the whole human race. From your heavenly throne you watch all who live on earth below.”
    God we are thankful that you who created the heaven and earth watch over and care for us. We are thankful that, “you who made our hearts understands what we do.” We are grateful that you know our joys, our troubles, our successes, and our failures. We are grateful that you know our hopes and our fears.
    God forgive us, when we doubt your care for us. God forgive us when we fail to trust you and place our trust in the strength of others. Help us to trust in your goodness, grace, and strength.
    God remind us that you continue to watch over those who fear you, honor you, trust you, and rely on your perfect unfailing love.
    God remind us that you will rescue us from the hands of death and you alone will keep us alive in times of famine.
    God help us put our hope in you who is our help, our shield, and our divine hope.    Amen.

The Healing Steps

2012-02-11T18:45:00.001-08:00

sermon_for_harold.mp3 Listen on Posterous

This is a podcast recording of my sermon for February 12, 2012. For more information about the healing steps please read God's Healing Community by Frank Bateman Stanger.

Sermon Manuscript for February 5, 2012--"Why Wait?"

2012-02-05T14:17:00.001-08:00

Please not that this manuscript is a guide that I use for preaching. I have it handy, but I do not follow word for word. Check out Colbertumc.org or ComerUMChurch.org to hear the preached sermon.

It has been said, “Good things come to those who wait.” But I’ve recently learned that there are some things that aren’t worth waiting for. In today’s scripture from Mark chapter 1, we find something that isn’t worth waiting for.
    Today’s gospel story is one of several stories in the Bible that brings out the Monday Morning Quarterback in me. If you don’t know what a Monday Morning Quarterback is, just listen to any sports talk program on the radio tomorrow morning.    These experts will be on the radio giving their advice on how the Giants and the Patriots should have played football in tonight’s Super Bowel.
    These Monday Morning Quarterbacks will be quick to say they should have passed the ball instead of running it, shouldn’t have called that time out when they did, should have let this player play instead of that one, and the list of their suggestions and play calls goes on. When it comes down to it, Monday Morning Quarterbacks know today what needed to be done yesterday.
    But Monday Morning Quarterbacks have one problem. Despite all their wisdom, insight, and expertise--They weren’t on the field yesterday. They weren’t the ones trying to catch a bad snap. They weren’t the ones running up and down the field. They weren’t the ones tackling and getting tackled. Monday Morning Quarterbacks know today what needed to be done yesterday, but they weren’t on the field yesterday.
    Like I said, this story brings out the Monday Morning Quarterback in me. It stirs within me the “would’ve, could’ve, and the should’ve.” When I read this story, I wonder why the folks waited until sunset to be healed.
    “Good things come to those who wait” and “There are some things that aren’t worth waiting for.” Jesus isn’t worth waiting for!
    When I read this story and think of the sick, the lame, and the troubled who waited for until sunset for Jesus to heal them, I say to myself-”Why did they wait? If I had been there, I wouldn’t have waited.” Some things are worth waiting for. When you know Jesus the healer is in town, you don’t wait for him to come around, you hurry to find him.
    This is the Monday Morning Quarterback. We read the text today and know what should have been done yesterday, but we weren’t in Capernaum yesterday. We weren’t there when Jesus the healer came to town, so we can only guess why the people waited until sunset to be healed.
    Maybe they waited until sunset because they were ignorant. Maybe they waited because until sunset because they didn’t know Jesus was in town. Maybe they didn’t know Jesus had healed a demon possessed man in the Synagogue that morning. I don’t know, but the Mark does tell us that the word about Jesus spread around the entire region.
    Maybe they waited until sunset because they had their doubts. Maybe they waited because they heard the story, but didn’t believe it. The story of the miracle in the synagogue was too good to be true. It was just a tall tale. I don’t know, but perhaps they saw the sick and crippled who had been healed walking by and knew their doubts were wrong.
    Maybe they waited until sunset because they were afraid. Maybe they had fears about Jesus. Who was this man? He had a new authoritative teaching. He had a different message a message with power. Maybe they waited until their fears had been alleviated and they knew this man of authority was also a man of compassion.
    Maybe they waited until sunset because they didn’t want to be healed. Later in his ministry Jesus would meet a man at the Pool of Bethesda. For 38 years this man had been paralyzed. When Jesus met him at the pool he asked the man “Do you want to be made well?” It might surprise you, but there are some folks who are happy being sick. They like the attention. They like the pity. They like not being expected to do what the healthy can and are expected to do.
    Maybe they waited until sunset because they didn’t want to break the Law. You might not know this but there was a law that prevented work on the Sabbath. On the Sabbath you weren’t allowed to pick up and carry anything. On the Sabbath you couldn’t walk too far. On the Sabbath you were forbidden to do anything that looked like work, and many religious leaders considered healing to be work.
    The first part of this story took place on a Sabbath. Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law on the Sabbath. In doing so, he broke the law.
    I can just imagine a family with a sick daughter. They heard what happened in the synagogue. They know Jesus the healer is in town. They so desperately want their daughter to be made well, but as long as the Sabbath Sun shines down they are forbidden by the law to pick up their sick daughter and carry her to Jesus. I see mama sitting by the bedside gently comforting her sick daughter. I see Daddy looking out the window watching the Sabbath sun move across the sky. The day seemed to take so long. Then it finally happened. Sunset came. When sunset came it marked the end of the Sabbath. The law was no in effect. The people who waited could now come and be healed. I see Momma and Daddy carrying their sick daughter to Jesus the healer.
    Praise God that Jesus didn’t let a law keep him from doing what he came to do.    Jesus as the Son of God was wise enough to know the difference between God’s law and man’s law disguised as God’s law. Jesus was wise enough to know it was foolishness to think that God would take a day off from bringing healing and wholeness to the broken and sick.
    We don’t know why the people waited to be healed. We are only Monday Morning Quarterbacks. We weren’t in Capernaum when the Jesus the healer came to town.
    But this morning there is a question we can answer, “Why are you waiting?” What sunset keeps you from being healed and made whole by Jesus?
    Could it be ignorance?
Maybe you’ve never heard scriptures like:

Psalm 6:2-”Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing. O Lord heal me, for my bones are troubled.”

Jeremiah 3:22-”Return, o faithless sons, I will heal your faithlessness.”

Isaiah 53:5-”But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed.”

Pslam 103:3-5 “He forgives you sins every one. He heals your diseases, every one. He redeems you from hell, saves your life. He crowns you with love and mercy, a paradise crown. He wraps you in goodness, beauty eternal. He renews your youth, you’re always young in his presence.”

    Maybe you never heard about the healing ministry of the church. Maybe you don’t know God has called the church to preach, teach, and heal. If you ever go to Nancy Goss’s beauty shop she has a little post-it note on the wall that offers a wonderful explanation of the ministry of the church. Nancy heard this on the radio and was smart enough to write it down and wise enough to post it on the wall for others to read.
    “Preaching is proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ. Teaching is explaining the good news of Jesus Christ. Healing is making the good news of Jesus Christ real.”
    Could it be doubt? Maybe you believe the healing ministry of the church was a thing of the past. There are several sincere Christians who believe the gifts of healing ended with the Disciples and Apostles. These Christians do not believe in the miracle of healing.
    Many only know the healing ministry of the church to be what they see on TV. They look at the big spectacles and crusades and see something they don’t want to be part of. They hear about the con-artists and “faith-healers” who break trust and use healing ministry as a way to gain fame and wealth, and they don’t believe God is at work healing today.
    At one time, I thought the healing ministry of the church was just a gimmick of flashy televangelists. I now know that it isn’t. The healing ministry of the church can be as simple as a prayer at the bedside of a hospital patient, a thoughtful conversation in the Pastor’s office, or a caring touch.
    If you doubt the healing ministry of the church I know several people who can testify that God still heals. They’ve experienced the miracle of healing in their life. Perhaps hearing their story can turn your doubt into belief.
    Could it be that you don’t want to be made well? Maybe you are content being sick. Sickness is normal for you. Health would be something new and fearful.   Maybe you are afraid of what it takes to be healed. Perhaps you don’t want to let go of the pain and bitterness. Perhaps you don’t want to quit a habit that is making you unhealthy. Maybe you are afraid of what will happen once the brokenness in your life has been made whole.
    I saw this first hand in my family. One day grandma asked grandpa to move a heavy concrete flower pot from the back porch to the front porch. Wanting to make grandpa happy he moved it, but doing so he hurt his back. Grandpa never recovered from that injury. It never kept him from fishing, watching tv, and doing the things he wanted to do, but whenever somebody asked him to do something he didn’t want to do, like wash the dishes, fold the laundry, or take out the trash-Grandpa was quick to remind us of the flower pot. He was hurt and couldn’t do it.
    What sunset keeps you from coming into the healing presence of Christ?
    Perhaps your just confused. You don’t know what to think or believe about the healing power of Christ and the healing ministry of the Church.
    Well, let me tell you what I believe about healing.
    I believe God is a healing God. God wants all of us to be whole. In essence that is what healing is all about. Healing is wholeness. Healing is about being fully who God wants us to be and has created us to be. Healing is about be whole in mind, body, and spirit.
    I believe God heals in many different ways: God can heal instantly and God can heal gradually directly through divine miracles, with medicine, good health practices, and with the faith community. I believe we cannot limit the ways God is able to heal and bring wholeness.
    Some folks ask “if healing is the will of God.” I believe it is. And some folks wonder why somebody who prayed for healing wasn’t made well. I don’t think it is a matter of “If God heals, but when.” God can elect to heal on this side of eternity, but God certainly heals on the other side of eternity. The Bible tells us that in Heaven there is no sickness or disease. In Heaven we will be whole.
    I also believe God wants us to know about healing grace. That is why I am preaching and teaching about healing today. I don’t want ignorance to keep you from coming to Jesus the healer.
    Next week, we will look at what some call the Healing Steps. These steps are not a magic formula to receive divine healing and control the divine will of God, but rather they are Biblical principles that help put us in a position to understand and live in the will of God and thus be ready to receive whatever healing grace God offers.
    But that is next week. This is today. So this morning I ask. Why wait?
    I believe in the presence of Christ there is healing. In the presence of Christ we can experience health, healing, and wholeness. In the presence of Christ we can experience the fullness of salvation. Did you know that in the original language in which the Bible was written, the healing, wholeness, and salvation are all part of the same word? Healing and salvation go hand in hand. Healing and wholeness go hand in hand.
    If you think about it when we are sick, part of our self is missing. When I was stuck at home with the swine flu, I didn’t feel like myself. I almost didn’t feel human. I had no energy, no appetite, and I could barely think straight. When are lives are full of sin we too can have the same symptoms. Healing and salvation through Christ make us whole. In Christ we are made fully human.
    So why wait?
    Jesus is here. We believe in the sacrament of holy communion Jesus the healer is present at the table. In this simple meal of bread and cup Jesus is here to bring health, wholeness, and salvation to all who come to him in faith.
    I believe in the healing power of the sacrament of holy communion. I believe in communions healing power because I've seen it first hand.
    I was in my second year of pastoral ministry. At the time I was serving a small church in the cornfields of central Kentucky. I was also a full-time seminary student and working part-time at the YMCA. It was a busy time of the school year when I got the call. “Bro Hugh Mama’s in the hospital. It don’t look good. Her colon is dying. She is in bad shape. Could you come? Could you bring communion?”
    Earlier that year I had preached my first sermon series about Christian healing. I had shared with this small congregation about the healing power of holy communion, but I’ve never seen it face to face. I had doubts, but I continued to ask God to help my unbelief.
    I made the long drive from Lexington to Elizabethtown, Ky. It was about a three hour round trip. I wasn’t looking forward to trying to fit a funeral into my busy school and work schedule. Mama played the piano and I didn’t know how we would replace her.
    Well I visited Mama. We talked. I prayed and we had communion.
    I never had to preach Mama’s funeral. She is still alive. Though her health has deteriorated over the years, Lela Mae is still here. God’s healing grace in her life reminds me of Hezekiah. Hezekiah was at death’s door and he prayed for God to heal him. God gave him 15 more years.
    Like I said, the question isn’t if God heals. It is when.
    So why wait?

    Jesus Christ the Healer invites to his table the broken, the hurting, the tired, and the weary who love him, earnestly repent of their sin and seek to live in peace and wholeness with one another. Therefore let us confess our brokenness, our hurts, our pain, and our sins to God and to one another.

Pastoral Prayer for February 5, 2012

2012-02-05T05:02:00.001-08:00

This prayer is inspired by the scriptures of Isaiah 40.

Heavenly Father,
    We your children thank you for this gift of prayer that you have given us. We are grateful that bend low to Earth to hear us as we struggle to reach up to Heaven to hear you.
    Father we ask that might be merciful and forgive us, for time to time we fail to be the people you desire us to be. Father we have forgotten part of the good news you have told us. Father in your mercy remind us, “That you will not grow tired or weary, and we cannot Father your understanding.” Father in your mercy remind us that, “You give strength to the weary and increase the power of the weak.”
    Father in your mercy help us for we, both youthful and not so youthful, are tired and weary. Help us as we stumble and fall. Be quick to catch and hold us.
    Father in your mercy help us put our hope in you.
    Father please renew our strength.
    Father may your Holy Spirit lift us up on wings like eagles so we might rise above all that seeks to hold us down.
    Father may your Holy Spirit quicken us to run and not grow weary as we work to bring your Heavenly Kingdom and will on Earth.
    Father may your Holy Spirit guide us as we seek to walk in your way today, tomorrow, and forevermore.
    Heavenly Father, we your children thank you for bending low as we reach up to you now. Help us as we faithfully wait and anticipate the fulfillment of your will in our lives. Thank you for hearing our prayer in the name of Jesus Christ your son. Amen.

What are you waiting for?

2012-02-04T06:15:00.001-08:00

A sage once said, "Good things come to those who wait." I've also learned, "There are somethings not worth waiting for." Some things are worth hurrying for!

So I ask, what are you waiting for? And what are you not waiting for, but hurrying to find?

Another blog another post

2012-02-01T12:03:00.001-08:00

Several friends use this service. With the future of IWeb and MobileME publishing unclear, I now move on to another service. We will see how well this works out.

Going out of business

2009-10-01T20:05:00.000-07:00

I am going out of business. I am going to close down this web blog and import the best of the posting from this blog into my new blog at www.hughhendrickson.com

I am no longer living in Wilmore, Ky. I have been gone from nearly three years now. I miss the town. I don't know if it misses me.

I want to treasure these thoughts, but I am moving them into a new place.

The Watching of the Field

2009-05-27T15:23:00.000-07:00

Looking out my window I spy upon the progress of the field.

I hear green shoots as they stretch heavenward.

I smell the fruits growing in the vine.

I wait expectantly to touch the earth’s bounty.

Longing for the harvest so I can taste her yield.

Eight Letters

2009-03-04T06:34:00.000-08:00

Eight letters
Fashioned into three words.
Ordinary in their singleness,
Extra-Ordinary in their togetherness.
Eight letters
Formed into three words.
That I hesitate to say,
For when they are spoken
The ordinary becomes togetherness.
I, y, v, o, e, l, o, u.

I love you.

Recession Poem

2009-02-23T15:38:00.000-08:00

Grandpa said “Times were tough then”

Back in the good old days

Rich folks didn’t even paint their houses

And we ate a lot of beans.

News lady says “Times are tough now”

Here in the modern days

But rich folks are still painting their houses

And I had some beans with my steak.

I don't know if "Times are tough or if Times are rough"
I just know that life isn't too easy right now
I will just have to wait to see what I will tell my grand kids.

Today I went where I used to live

2008-12-25T19:27:00.000-08:00

In a borrowed car
I took some borrowed time
And went to where I used to live.
I drove past a house that once was warm
Whose lights offered a welcome to the passerby.
Now that house sits empty, cold, and quiet.
It waits for new stories and new laughs
To dance on its floors and walk on its walls.
In a borrowed car and with some borrowed time
I went to where I used to live
And in my heart I cried.

Hee Haw and Happiness

2008-11-13T20:43:00.000-08:00

Only true Hee Haw enthusiasts and those who have stumbled across the show on RFDTV will know this, but Hee Haw is back on the air. RFDTV is showing Hee Haw on reruns from the first episode to the last. That amounts to a bunch of old episodes.

I remember watching Hee Haw with my family as a child. It brings back good memories. But as I watch the show, I amazed at its stupidty. Comedy was so different back then. You could laugh at all sorts of country bumpkin situations: drunkeness, debauchary, and stupidty. Where have those great qualities gone in today's comedy?

I wonder if a show like Hee Haw could even make it past a pilot if it was launched to big cat producers in Hollywood today? If it had failed many of us watching reruns today wouldn't expereince the happiness it brings us today.

This Road is New To Me

2008-11-13T20:37:00.000-08:00

This road is new to me.
It is a path unfamiliar to my feet.
They know not where the trips and troubles hide.
It could be safe
by my eyes cannot tell.
This road is new to me.
I cannot tell where this road will end
For this road is new to me.

Shrimp, strawberries, and punch

2008-09-08T20:19:00.000-07:00

There is a new Episcopal leader in North Georgia, Bishop Michael Watson. The Annual Conference rolled out the red carpet and put on the Ritz for the new Bishop. The installation service had the pomp worthy of the circumstance we found ourselves in. The Conference put out a real spread at the welcome reception. You know you are at a fancy reception when there is shrimp, strawberries, and a fountain flowing with punch. The chocolate cake I ate for dessert was worth the long drive and sitting through the installation service.
I just wonder about it all. Only God knows what is in store for us as a Conference and as a denomination? The Bishop has a large flock to lead. The church has some big challenges facing it. But the church has been facing these problems since its birth at Pentecost. I just wonder if the first Bishops were greeted with shrimp, strawberries, and a fountain flowing with punch?

Past Love Remembered

2008-08-27T22:41:00.000-07:00

Looking backwards I see through the shadow of my memory
Veiled faces of a person I used to know.
Listening I hear through the fog of the past
Voices of a person I used to know.
Perhaps love once hidden in my heart will bring back light to drive away
shadows and clear out the fog
So I will clearly know the past love remembered.

I am reading the novel The Shadow of the Wind. In this novel, the main character talks about the day he could no longer remember the face and voice of his mother. This poem came to mind as I try to remember those who now wait on the other side of eternity.

Meeting Others

2008-08-27T22:22:00.000-07:00

The last three days have been interesting. Once again I found myself at Simpsonwood. I believe this place might be the purgatory of the Conference. I don't necessarily enjoy going to Simpsonwood, and I really don't like having to stay overnight at the place; but much like purgatory you are happy when you can finally leave.

These past three days at Simpsonwood weren't terrible. It was nice to meet fellow ministers who are going through a journey similar to mine. There is something refreshing and healing in the words of another who is honest enough to share their frustration at a system that doesn't always work in an efficent, thoughtful, and grace-filled manner. There is a newfound assurance hidden behind the stories of another sharing their doubts and fears similar to your own.

At one time I was niave and now I hesitate. I thought following the call to God would be easy. I know God is with me, but knowing God is with you doesnt make the journey any easier. A trip in the desert is still a trip in the desert. A climb up a mountain is still a climb up a mountain. Those trips are still difficult to journey, even if God has led you to them.

However, when you are following a call and traveling on a journey to God only knows where, meeting others is a pleasant surprise. A trip in the desert is still a trip in the desert and a climb up a mountain is still a climb up the mountain, but with others it just isnt quite so bad. So I am glad I was at Simpsonwood during the past three days. I had a rare moment to meet others as they too go through the desert and climb up the mountain.

Misplaced Values

2008-07-24T18:48:00.000-07:00

Last week while at Salem Camp meeting, I finished a powerful little book by Clarence Jordan and Bill Lane Doulos called "Cotton Patch Parables of Liberation." I found this book at the used bookstore. It was a steal at only a quarter. Most of the time, the cheaper the book, the better.

So Jordan shares a story about some fancy church that decided to testify about the love of God by building a fountain. They spent several thousands dollars on the thing, and this was back in the 1960's, so it had to be very expensive.

In the book, Jordan thought the whole expenditure was a senseless waste of money. His argument was like this, "Why spend thousands of dollars on a fountain when thousands of people do not have access to clean drinking water?" I think he made a good point.

Have we as a church misplaced our values? Are we so wrapped up in the beautiful, that we have forgotten those who live in the ugliness of want and need?

Lord show us our foolishness. Convict us of the places where are values are wrongly placed, and lead us in the pathway of your Gospel to the people we are to value because you value them. Amen.

It's Summer Time and the Living is Easy

2008-07-02T15:35:00.001-07:00

Well it's Summer Time and the Living is Easy. Or that was the promise offered by that old tune. I don't know if life has been any easier now that it is Summer. In the church people take a vacation during the summer. They head off to Florida and to other vacation spots. The lake looks a lot more appealing than the sanctuary.
So that puts the pastor in a interesting place. How do we stand up against the allure of Disney and water skiing? Dare we turn the church into a vacation spot? Or do we simply proclaim what the church has always been, a sanctuary?
Yes, perhaps we simply remind the people that the church is a sanctuary. Yes remind the people that when the living is easy and when the living is bad, the church is a sanctuary. The church is a place of rest for the weary. The church is a place of inspiration for the down trodden. The church is a place of vacation from the sad sin-filled world we live in.

Digital clutter

2008-04-28T18:04:00.000-07:00

So I have found a way to clutter my electronic desk. I have a blog here and a semi-blog on the church's website. I need a way to streamline and consolidate. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

This week is General Conference time again. I don't know what is going on, because I am so busy with life and ministry. I have been catching tid-bits. I hope at the end of Conference we don't find ourselves praying, "Lord Bless this mess we have created."

Thoughts about the year ahead

2008-01-22T13:21:00.000-08:00

As I sit in my chair, I had an idea. Perhaps you can say I had a dream. I don't know. It could have been the Diet Coke talking.

But this is what I saw....
Bob Dylan singing
"The times are a changing."

So that is what this year is going to be about. The times are changing. But aren't they changing every year?

A Dream for a Song

2007-10-12T19:42:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to stand on a stage
And deliver a sermon in three quarter time
In the key of A.
To have your message written in rhyme
and have the audience join in your verse.
What would it be like to be a gospel singer?
I can only dream for a song.
And hope for the chance
for the dream to come true,
When I can sing the gospel to you.

A Poem

2007-10-11T17:17:00.000-07:00

It is strange what the peculiar inner workings of the brain stirs to memory.
How does the smell of a far off fire
Bring to your mind's eye the images of childhood
When you were in the woods
Searching for firewood
But you got lost for a moment
The dark woods became a coffin
Yet the light of the fire gave you hope
The light gave direction
A way to return home?

Chicken-Que 2007

2007-09-09T19:05:00.000-07:00

Well I survived Chicken-Que 2007. I helped the men of the church cook about 500 half-chickens. It was a great day of fellowship and fun. The women spent most of the day in the fellowship hall. They made coleslaw, baked beans, and bagged bread. We sold out of chicken, so it was a great success.
I am looking forward to Chicken-Que 2008. It's just sad that we will have to kill so many chickens.

Can't have nothing nice

2007-08-26T20:23:00.000-07:00

"Can't have nothing nice." That was one of the claims my Grandfather would often raise. I think he was right. The other day I bought a shirt on sale that I really liked. I thought it made me look like a professional preacher, for I felt like I was ready to play golf. If you haven't noticed, the golf shirt has replaced that drab black clergy shirt ministers once wore. Well, like my Grandfather would say, "Can't have nothing nice." The third time I wore the shirt I spilled bleach on it when I was trying to clean something. My accident ruined the front of the shirt. "Can't have nothing nice."
Well today at church a family that has begun coming to church really tested my patience. I don't understand why parents are afraid to discipline and control their kids. I know some kids require extra grace, and sometimes kids have bad days just like grown ups; however, that is no excuse to allow your kids to have free reign at Church.
Some folks will say that people don't know how to act in church. I really don't think that is a valid excuse. If you walk into church you can see that most people aren't running around, children aren't climbing all over the altar rail, banging on the piano and organ, and messing with the altar tables.
As the pastor I want to model hospitality, but there is a limit to my tolerance. The parents' weren't too concerned about their children's behavior. I almost lost it, but I remembered the words of my Grandfather, "Can't have nothing nice." I realized this wasn't my battle and decided to let the family that donated the items that these kids were playing on to address the issue.
I guess I might have to teach a course on Church etiquette. I think the first lesson will be "Go ahead and realize, you can't have nothing nice."

Sat up at District Set up

2007-08-25T20:01:00.000-07:00

So many of you all probably know that I am single. I have been for many years and even though my parsonage is lonely, I am not quite to the point where I want a new roommate. However, I don't think I want to stay single too much longer. Ministry is too hard to do it alone. I often wish I had someone to talk to late at night, and I can call a parishioner at late hours or one of newly wed friends even though they might be awake.
I must take after my grandfathers who were late getting into the marriage and dating scenes. Yet there are several folks that are trying their best to solve my dielema. There is a baptist lady who writes a weekly church column that I have never met, a clergy spouse, and some parishioners that are actively advertising that I am a single pastor.
I don't want to go too long, but let's just say it is a weird experience when you give your business card to a pastor, so his daughter can call you. Just ask me sometime about being Sat up at District Set up.

Greetings to friends from my new place

2007-08-23T20:30:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow will mark two full months at my new appointment. Two months ago, I headed to a community and church that I knew only through passing. I never thought that I would be living in the place where I would often buy cheap gas, but I am here.
It is quite interesting where God's call and claim on our lives will take us. During the last days of Seminary I had no idea where I would be heading. To be honest I had my concerns. I was afraid that I would be spending some extra time living in the basement of my parents' home. Thanks to God, that isn't the case.
I have come to a place that I am beginning to call home. The church and community are friendly and welcoming. God is moving in my life and in the church. We have had a new member join by profession of faith and baptism. There are some people who are also wanting to be baptized. This is work that I can take no credit. This is work that has taken place through the Grace of God alone.
So friends, I say hello. And no matter where you might be at this moment, look around and think, this could be my future home.

Last Train to Glory

2007-05-11T20:49:00.000-07:00

In about seven days, I will walk across the stage and claim a piece of paper that will promise a diploma “upon successful completion of my degree requirements.” This symbolic move will mark the end of four long years at Asbury Theological Seminary. Like a tattered clothed street prophet all sorts of things are declaring “The End is nigh!”

I completed my last class yesterday afternoon—Exegesis of Jeremiah with Dr. Lawson Stone. It was an inclusio of sorts, for Dr. Stone taught my first class at seminary four years ago. I can vaguely remember that first day. The desk was uncomfortable. The teacher was weird, and the teaching challenged everything I had ever thought about the Old Testament. In some ways, I felt like the scroll had been rolled back from my eyes of my mind. I sat in that desk and realized that the journey had begun.

As I write this, my mind is conjuring up all sorts of memories. So many classes, so papers, so many books, and so many classic moments at the SPO, in the Chapel, and in the cafeteria flood my mind. I don’t have the time to expound upon them, but I will cherish them.

Jesus told his Disciples that the Holy Spirit will bring about remembrance of the things that he taught them. I think the Holy Spirit still brings about remembrance. There have been countless times that Jesus taught me through the lives and words of others. I am trusting in the promise of the Holy Spirit that these memories will remain not only in my mind, but in my spirit until I enter the place where time and memory are no more.

With all these sentimental ramblings, one might think that my time in Wilmore has been a walk through a green meadow full of wildflowers or reminiscent of that famous Coca-Cola commercial where a multitude of folks are singing on the mountaintop. I have experienced such moments, but I have also stepped in ant beds and been stung by bees as I have walked across those verdant meadows.

Seminary is not easy. God calls all sorts of people to this place. I have met all sorts of people. I think Arlo Guthrie pants a poignant and relevant picture of a seminary community in his song “Last Train to Glory.” Seminary is full of saints, sinners, sinners that think they are saints, and saints that think they are sinners. All of us have been called here for different reasons, from different places, but by the same God (that could be debated).

I have been blessed with many friendships while here. I have met traveling companions on this Last Train to Glory. Through God’s grace, I hope we will never loose touch by changing railcars.

I have also been blessed to know folks that have taught me a lot about Grace. It’s been hard for the past few weeks to realize that people you call and know as friends can break your trust. It’s hard when folks who are training to become God for others, break your trust. It wounds your spirit.

A wounded spirit doesn’t heal easily. Trust broken takes time and grace to repair. And as Dr. Kalas says, “some wounds are only healed on the other side.”

So the train continues to run down the tracks. More final moments are on my schedule. Soon I will walk across the stage for that symbolic moment. Until then, I will walk through the meadows of the Holy City and think of that first day. I will think of that day when God’s grace touched my lips and I discovered that the river of life tastes like Ale-8-One. I will remember those late night walks around the campus. I will remember….

I will also hope. I will hope for that day when the train whistle will blow. I will hope for that day when the rumbling and rocking of the train will stop. I will hope for that day when the Last Train to Glory reaches the station. And I will pray that there will be more folks on the train then when I first got on. Amen.

My take on the Seventh Seal

2007-04-29T18:44:00.000-07:00

So if you go down the digital road to my friend the NorthwestAnglican's blog, you will read a post about The Seventh Seal. We watched this movie together. It has been a long time since I have been able to convince anyone to watch movies that I enjoy.
In a school community where we spend so much time reading, I guess it is too much to ask somebody to read a movie with you. You see, The Seventh Seal is a Swedish film with English subtitles. I often wonder about movies that are subtitled. Too often in foreign films there are lines like this, "oko whoo whoo li li aqnata pi pi char gretalppin," and the English subtitle is "what's for breakfast?" There are simply too many words used in the native language for it warrant such a concise English translation. I guess that adds to the mystery and allure of foreign films.

So I guess I need to write a movie review to compliment Matt's review of this film. Let me keep it short. The Seventh Seal is a poignant portrayal of life and faith in post World War Two Europe. The Characters could represent any person that lived through the great war between the Axis and Allies. While watching the movie, I was busy noticing the symbolism and cinematography in the image. In the film, most characters always appeared on the same horizontal plane. There were also strong horizontal lines that framed the characters. I think these lines represented the thin divide between life and death. Well I am tired. So.... The End.

Old man and child on the sidewalk

2007-03-28T18:24:00.000-07:00

I saw an old man holding the hand of a young boy the other day.
They walked down the sidewalk of a strip mall.
The young boy looked around amazed at all the cars and people speeding quickly by.
The old man looked backward into his memory.
Back to a time now gone by.
A time that is no more.
When the concrete parking lots were full of horses not cars.
Horses prancing about the fields of green.
And long ago and old mare guided her young fowl around the pasture.
Up to the wooden fence, that separated their space from the dangers outside.
They watched a young boy ride by on the back of an old truck.
Little did he know that one day, he would walk with his grandson along the fence line.
Holding hands with the little boy, as they both journey down the path of progress.
The old man now holds the hand of the boy to separate him from the dangers passing by.

Hermeneutics of Politics

2007-02-22T13:53:00.000-08:00

From the chapter “Faith” in The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama.

Obama writes....“But let’s assume that we only had Christians within our borders. Whose Christianity would we teach in school? James Dobson’s or Al Sharpton’s? Which passages of Scripture would guide our public policy? Should we go with Leviticus, which suggests that slavery is all right and eating shellfish is an abomination? How about Deuteronomy, which suggests stoning your child if he strays form the faith? OR should we just stick to the Sermon on the Mount-a passage so radical that it’s doubtful our Defense Department would survive its application?”

This dear friends is the question that the religious communities in our country need to consider. It doesn't mean that one group has the truth, or that truth is relevant. It does mean that we must determine how are we to approach and utilize the entire witness of Scripture into our life, faith, and culture. This is a question that I would love to hear answered. How do we understand what God has revealed to us in Scripture and apply it to our lives? This is the question of hermeneutics.

I wonder if Obama has read The Politics of Jesus?

Stranger on the street

2007-02-20T15:12:00.000-08:00

Everyday we pass a stranger on the street

But how often do we ask

“Do you want something to eat?”

So many hungry people

Walking all around

Searching for a loaf of bread

While looking towards the ground.

But if they would only look up

They would find both the loaf

And the cup.

A meal that not only fills the soul

But a meal that makes the hurting whole.

Everyday we pass a stranger on the street

Next time help them look up to eat.

Collection of Poems written on Feb 20 2007

2007-02-20T06:55:00.000-08:00

Type Cast

I wanted to play the clown

But I was cast as the fool.

An unwelcome disappointment

An unnecessary burden

An inconvenient truth

At an inconvenient time.

Trip to the Fruit Stand

I traveled to the fruit stand

To buy some oranges

Only to discover they were

Out of season.

Which reminded me of the

Apple of my eye

That rotted on the tree.

Both unavailable because

I waited too long

To venture out to the fruit tree.

I traveled to the fruit stand

To buy some oranges

Only to ask myself.

“I need them for what reason?”

Last Days

The last days are looming near

Like a dawn that will

Soon break forth

Into full

Day.

The last song is being sung

Like the final movement

Of the symphony

That will soon

Break into a

Standing

Ovation.

And soon I will stand

Before the fullness

Of the day

To applaud

A symphony

Written by the dew.

In the Morning

In the morning when I wake

Life breaks forth like

Syrup from a jar

That even though it was

Labeled shatterproof

Still managed to break.

Ode to the Perfume Laden Lady

A lady with too much perfume

Walked into my room.

And even though she is gone

Her scent still looms.

An unwelcome intrusion

That caused my nose

Too much confusion.

Starting the final verse of the song

2007-02-18T18:36:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago I started singing the final verse of the song called "Seminary." In less than 90 days the song will be over, and I will begin singing a different song. It is kind of sad to realize such a good song will soon be over.
I think I will really miss this place. Somehow through all the classes, homework, nasty meals, snow, and stress Asbury Seminary has forged a piece of itself into my heart. The other day I went to the SPO and asked myself, "will I remember my SPO and its combination 20 years from now?" I can't recall my address at Georgia State.
Many dear friends have moved on from Wilmore. Despite all of my efforts, I have been unable to maintain the relationship that I hoped to have with them. I wonder how things will work out after I graduate. Hopefully the relationships created here and the ties that accompany them will survive the strain of full-time pastoral ministry.
Well I guess its time to stop writing and start singing.

Departed

2007-02-15T21:10:00.000-08:00

To say good bye can bring much sorrow.
For we often hate to think about tomorrow.
When a friend must bid farewell.
To only find our self alone.

Now I feel like an old man.
Reaching out for the hand.
That is no longer there.
Only to find himself alone.

Now I feel like an old lady.
Whose breast long for a baby.
That is now grown.
Only to find herself alone.

Yet there will soon be a place.
Where we will see the face
Of those that have departed.
And we will no longer be alone.

A Toast to Stephen Foster

2007-02-15T06:59:00.000-08:00

I thought about posting a few lines from a song that I often sing. It was written long ago (mid 19th century) by Stephen Foster.

Oh! Comrades, fill no glass for me
To drown my soul in liquid flame,
For if I drank, the toast should be
To blighted fortune health and fame
Yet, though I long to quell the strife,
The passion holds against my life

Still, boon companions may ye be,
But comrades, fill no glass for me.

Kate's Song

2006-12-16T18:41:00.000-08:00

This is a song based on Kate Trask from Steinbeck's East of Eden.

Long ago and far away

I took a trip to a distant land

And paused to see in that far town

The fairest beauty to be found

With eyes of deepest blue

And hair so long and gold.

Every night in her home

I would sit and at her beauty stare

And as the time passed quickly by

I would forget all lives woes and cares.

So comrades stop and listen now

To the danger I will tell

For if you heed my words of fear

You can save your soul from hell.

For when you look into her eyes.

The depth of your soul she will spy.

And all the secrets of your heart

From your mouth will soon depart.

While I sat there in her spell

I told things I vowed to never tell.

And now I am a slave of hell

For the secret of my past is known.

And the time to flee her has come and gone.

So now her I stay

And watch my soul fade away.

For I can’t leave her beauty’s grip and

Make my desperate rescue trip.

So comrades stop and listen now

To the danger I will tell

For if you heed my words of fear

You can save your soul from hell.

But now I set here in her sway

As my soul slowly fades away.

Yet young men please hear my cry.

And dare not ever look into her eyes.

Poems on Preaching

2006-10-11T09:53:00.000-07:00

Inspired by class. I wrote these poems.

The Preacher Teacher

Who is this versed man?

A sage from the pulpit.

An expert on the pew.

A keeper of rhyme.

Who is this wordsmith?

A painter with words.

A connoisseur of verbs.

A teller of tales.

We are his students.

Sponges of his skill.

Receptacles of his wisdom.

Apprentices of his craft.

The Preacher Student

I am a Peter that is still afraid of roosters.

I am a Paul timid on the waters.

I am a Stephen afraid to speak.

But with some help from the Preacher Teacher

I will be a Peter waiting for the feast.

I will be a Paul swimming in the seas.

I will be a Stephen ready to serve.

But what will make me

A modern Peter at Pentecost

A Paul with e-mail.

A Stephen standing in the crucible.

A book? No.

A Preacher Teacher? Perhaps.

A Carpenter? Yes.

The Carpenter

A carpenter of words

Selects great thoughts from the forest of wisdom

Hews long planks of words

Planes them into sentences

Trims away the extra verbs

Sands off the dangling participles

Polishes the adjectives and the verbs

And cuts the piece to fit

His crafted argument.

Where have all our prophets gone?

Evil has not died

Nor is its defeat secure.

Injustice is still in style.

So where have all our prophets gone?

The voice of truth is lost in the noise of fairness.

But fairness and justice are no friends.

So where have all our prophets gone?

Who will stand up to wrong?

Who will sing freedoms new song?

Where have all our prophets gone?

Question of a man born blind

I was born blind but now I see.

But how it happened still puzzles me.

Standing in the temple whose beauty I never knew.

Lost in the heart of the nation of the Jews.

Then one morning to my surprise a country prophet looked into my heart’s eye.

He spoke freedom to my sight, and now I see.

Oh how it still puzzles me.

But how I wonder how those born with sight

Still cannot see

The miracle of grace he gave to me?

Let us say our prayers

2006-09-23T19:50:00.000-07:00

"Let us say our prayers."
Words so gentle and so kind.
An imperative that settles my unsettled mind.
Words spoken with grace and care.
A call to hope in a world of despair.
Words whispered so peaceful and calm.
An ointment so smooth like Gilead's balm.
"Let us say our prayers."

Funeral Song

2006-06-26T10:56:00.000-07:00

When I die they will have a chicken dinner.
Served with mashed potatoes and gravy.
There will be a side of creamy cole slaw,
The way that mamma's used to be.
There will be a big old pan of flaky biscuits,
Made by kind and loving hands.
But when the last chicken bone hits the plate,
I will have already been in that beautiful promised land.

I stand in an empty room

2006-05-17T08:09:00.000-07:00

My roommate for two years left for home this morning. He will start a new appointment and plans to get married in December. I wrote this little poem in response to our time together.

I stand in an empty room.

You have packed up your books.

You have stowed away your clothes.

Your bed is stripped of the sheets.

I stand in an empty room.

Two years ago you stood in an empty room.

Then piece by piece I brought my stuff inside.

Book by book and sock by sock.

We filled this room with laughter and love.

If these walls could talk what would they say?

The stories we told.

The jokes we made.

The pains we expressed.

I stand in an empty room.

Your tokens of life have been removed.

Yet now I know that you are still here.

In my memories that I will cherish so dear.

This room is full of laughter and love.

And I pray that when I leave.

When the books are packed,

And the last drawer cleaned

That those who move in will experience

The brotherly love

That was known

My the two men

Who once lived in a little piece of Heaven,

Grice 107.

The Wagon's have returned

2006-05-09T10:34:00.000-07:00

At the end of summer's heat and long days of sun, the wagons appear in Wilmore. These wooden arks from old have traveled near and far to deposit young souls and minds into the hands of two institutions--The College and The Seminary.
I watch from across the street as folks unload their wagons basket by box by basket at a time. New sheets, new shirts, new shoes, and new notebooks to fill with the memories and experiences of their time here.
Now as the heat and long days of summer sun creeps into the horizon of middle May, the wagons return. This time the pilgrims aren't unloading their wagons, but they are loading them up. The sheets are dirty with the tears of bad grades, hurt feelings, and homesick blues. The shirts are now stained with marks from cafeteria food eaten long ago, but with friends so close. The shoes are worn and dirtied from long walks to class and chapel. The notebooks are full of ink and graphite. They contain the marks of memory.
The pilgrims wonder, "Will this all fit?" There was less stuff when they arrived, but life adds to your treasure and junk.
So I stand and watch. I remember when I unloaded my wagon and begin to think about when I will load my wagon and head back down south. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and feel the hint of hot air filling my lungs.

Treasures from my backpack

2006-05-09T10:29:00.000-07:00

I was searching for a pencil this morning in my backpack. While reaching around inside the deep darkness of my oversized bag I discovered this poem. I must have wrote it in the fall. Enjoy.

The gold is gone.

In the night the thief came.

His cold breath stole them away.

Here one day and gone tomorrow.

Gone are the colors.

Red, yellow, orange, and brown.

Revealed is death.

Gray.

The gold is gone.

In the night the thief crept in.

His cold breath fills the night.

Piece by piece you can hear him putting

A coin in his coffer.

Gone in the night.

I should have treasured them more.

I could have pt these coins in the bank.

Now they are gone.

Love From a Distance

2006-03-25T18:51:00.000-08:00

Death has brought about new life and relationships for my sister. She has been able to get in touch with family members from her father's side. These restored relationships have provided much help and hope. Tonight she spoke to her aunt for the first time.
She learned how much her birth father loved her. He was not allowed to visit her, so he would watch her play in the yard from a distance. I now attempt to express in words the feeling of love that story gave me.

From a distance I look
At the child I once held so close.
I hear the laughs
Of the baby that once breathed so gentle on my cheek.

From a distance I love
The child that is so close to my heart.
I watch her grow
Each day more distant from my tender hand and cheek.

I wonder what would have become
Of this girl and her dad
If I could have opened the gate and walked into the yard of her life.

I wonder from a distance.

I swept the porch

2006-03-25T05:42:00.000-08:00

I swept off the porch
And cleaned the steps
So I would be ready for your visit.

You drove up in your car
Rolled down the window
Waved and went on down the road.

There I stood on the porch
Cleaned off for visitors
That wouldnt come to my home.

The steps were clean
and ready for your feet
But you just drove down the road.

Funny Picture

2006-03-23T08:02:00.000-08:00

I think this photograph captures the spirit of my grandparents. They were some interesting and loving folk.
My grandmother is totaly looking at the watermelon. She probably wants a piece, but she is concerned about her figure, or doesnt want to get up and get a piece. My grandfather is wearing an apron. He too is looking at her eating. He probably wants a piece of watermelon, but my grandmother wont get him one.

Paper Treasures

2006-03-16T10:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon I went searching for a church document. I need to mail a Candidacy Certificate, but I had to find it first before I could mail it. So I began playing the classic game of “Where did I put that stupid thing?”. I looked in every drawer, every box, and every folder and file. I thought about where I placed it, but I could not find it. I will try again today.

Even though I failed to find my Candidacy Certificate I discovered something far greater. In one of my file folders I discovered some letters and cards from Nannie and Dado. I held them in my hand close to my heart. I could feel their presence in the paper. Then it happened.

At first it was very slow. I could feel them bubbling up down deep in my soul. They slowly moved up from the depths of my soul. Up, up, up. They moved delicately and slowly.

I opened the cards. Recorded on the pages were memories, words, and thoughts forever captured by pen and ink. I read their words. The letters reached down through my eyes and helped lift the travelers from the depth of my soul.

I cried.
I wept.
I felt my heart.

How sorely do I miss my Grandparents? This dance with grief has lasted longer than I want. Why did I sign my name on her dance card? Why did the band have to play such a long song?

Then I remembered. I did not choose grief. She crashed my prom. She walked in with her date death. He interrupted my dance with Nannie and Dado. He came tapped on the shoulders, and took my partners.

There I stood on the dance floor alone. Who would I dance with? The music is still playing, but I have no partner. Then she came. She offered to be my dance partner. I began to dance with grief.

So there on my bed on a Wednesday afternoon, I sat with my dance card. Gentle words from gentle partners pierced like a needle into the well of my soul. And from that pin prick welled up the tears of healing.

I cried.
I wept.
I felt my heart.

My dance partner lifted her head off my shoulder. My tears and touched her cheek. She knew that the dance would soon be over. My name was on another dance card, but I forget on whose.

So knowing the song would soon end, we held each other tightly. I dance with grief, and she dances with me. My tears flow onto her soft cheek. One hand holds her tightly, while the other clutches the paper treasures.

Palms of Victory

2006-03-14T16:33:00.000-08:00

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear.

He was born of a promise
To a people long ago
Held in sin and bondage
Their freedom he did hold

The wise men came to worship
Bearing gifts of spice and gold
When they saw the holy promise
This was what was told

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear.

He grew up in a mill house
Working with wood
His hands were worn and calloused
Like a carpenter’s would

He went out of the city
To the river bank
He was baptized in the Jordan
We he came up a voice from Heaven spake

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear.

He wandered in the wilderness
Alone for 40 days
Tired and weary
He fasted and he prayed

The Devil came to him
To tempt him
And play upon his fears
But the way worn pilgrim
Shouted in his ear

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear
He traveled through the country
Calling men to him
He taught and preached the gospel
And the sick healed them

The priest of the cities
Upset at his words
Refused to accept the statement
That this man was Lord

When he came into the city
Riding on a ass
They hearts were filled anger
As the palms waved as he pass

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear

He took his friends with him
Into an upper room
And told of the things
That would happen to him soon

They broke the bread
And drank the cup
And before they left the room
This hymn filled the room

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear.

They took him to the courthouse
And brought him before the judge
The people didn’t want this man
They rejected his love

They whipped and flogged him
Filled with hate and pain
They nailed him to the cross
But the angles in heaven sang

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear.
Early in the morning
The women went to the tomb
And found that no one was inside the room
They looked around for Jesus
But to their surprise
Lo there he was standing brighter than the sun in the sky
Death was not victorious
The grave had lost its sting
And now all the people with joy can sing

Palms of Victory
Crowns of Glory
Palms of Victory I shall wear.

Learning to walk

2006-03-08T16:16:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been learning a lot of new things. Today I learned to walk. I thought after 25, almost 26, years walking would be mastered. I guess I was wrong.
It only takes one wrong step to make a grown man fall. That is all it took me today. I tripped on a stupid concrete curb and landed right in the middle of the road.
I didn't cuss when it happened, but I won't comment on what I said afterwards.
I do admit that sometimes my words are too honest and to the point.
So now I am sitting in a chair with my leg up in the air. There goes my plans for the day. Here is what I look like now.

Canceled Numbers

2006-03-07T19:23:00.000-08:00

I want to call, but the number is now cancelled. I look at your name in my cell phone. I know that if I try to call I will only get a message from the operator. The number is of no practical use.
It once was though.
When the day had a lull I would call you. I knew you would be at home.
When I had good news I would call you. I knew you would celebrate with me.
When I was disenchanted I would call you. I knew you would give clarity.
When I was down I would call you. I knew you would have a funny story to cheer me up.
That was then and this is now.
The number is cancelled. It has no use, but to remind me of all those times I would call.
I call someone else now when I am bored, happy, disenchanted, and down. I call the whom you two are with.

Signal Flags

2006-03-07T08:27:00.000-08:00

This story was told to me yesterday at lunch by the most esteemed Dr. Kenneth Kinghorn. He says that in Turkey families put flags on their roofs to let men know that they have a single woman in the house. Dr. Kinghorn said, "It tells the men to come a knockin."
I wish we had that practice in the United States. Dating would be so much easier. Men could just drive past the house of a girl they liked and look for a flag.
At Orlean House the single women fly this flag:

Ladies fly it proud.

Communion

2006-03-06T06:00:00.000-08:00

Many Colors
Many Faces
Many Races
All approach in one grace.
To their place at the Gospel feast.
To entertain at least for a moment
A glimpse of Heavens love and peace.

Church Doors that Face the Street

2006-03-05T15:14:00.000-08:00

It has been awhile since it last happened.
Today it did.
I walked out of church through the front doors and right into the street.
The sun beamed down onto my face with the warmth of God's grace and love.
It was like I was walking into the light.
Church doors need to face the street.
Some churches enter in the backdoor and leave through the backdoor.
That is good for some folks because they might not want to be seen coming in or out of church doors.

Pizza Parlors

2006-03-04T22:08:00.000-08:00

I went to eat some pizza tonight. However, I left my dorm intending to eat some steak. I don't know how a group intending to eat steak ends up at a pizza buffet, but we did. We are so indecisive. We were once used to people who were good at leading us. We would do whatever they wanted.
But they are gone now. They have moved on to a new group of people to boss.
So now we are a group without a guide.
We leave for steak, and end up at a pizza parlor.
I hate Pizza Parlors.
Too many kids.
Too many boogers.
Not enough sauce.
Not enough meat.
Too much profit.
Too little taste.
Oh those calories were such a waste.

Puzzle Piece

2006-03-04T15:21:00.000-08:00

It took a while,
But you gave me the piece
That completed the puzzle.
To bad it was the wrong picture.
I should have checked the box.

Biscuits and Gravy

2006-03-02T10:26:00.000-08:00

On a cold morning, nothing tastes better than a hot biscuit with some warm gravy. Oh biscuits start rising so we both can be eating gravy.
When I was a boy I would often eat biscuits and gravy while staying at my grandparent’s homes. One house had thick gravy while the other had watery sausage gravy. One grandparent would heat up canned biscuits while the other would bake homemade ones. Many times at one house I would eat gravy and white bread. That combination didn’t taste so good, but right now I find myself craving the taste of cold white bread and hot gravy. Oh biscuits start rising so we both can be eating gravy.

Handwritten Letters

2006-03-01T22:03:00.000-08:00

I have an old ammo box under my bed. Inside the safety of the green metal box I have a collection of handwritten letters and cards. There are birthday cards, graduation cards, getwell cards, some Christmas cards, a few Valentines day cards, letters from old girls, and letters from loved ones. It is a treasure box of memories. This box was designed to keep ammo secure and ready for battle. Yet now it contains memories.

I don't have a green metal box on the internet. There is no place to keep emails or posts. I guess this blog will keep my words secure on the digital page, but for how long? What happens when I forget that I have a blog? Or when I forget the web address for my digital ammo box?

The box under my bed reminds me from time to time what it contains. In some ways it still carries ammo. When I am down or disillusioned I open it up and reach in and pull out some paper. These letters and cards remind me of the trip to the mail box, or when I would reach next to the birthday cake and pick up a stack of cards.

I hold the paper close to my face. I smell the paper. I sometimes can smell the person who wrote the letter. I close my eyes and think of them. Then I read. These words written in ink. The grow older day by day, year by year, but do not loose their freshness on my eye and soul. They seep in like the warmth of a mug of apple cider on a cold fall day.

Handwritten letters sent from my pen to your heart.
On paper cut from an old Georgia pine.
Words written in ink from a distant land.
In my hands I hold a word, a prayer, a thought.
I close my eyes and stop time.
Handwritten letters from your heart to my hand.

My New Song

2006-02-28T10:42:00.000-08:00

I wish I could be a songwriter. I think it would be so cool to reach into the air and pull words and rhymes right out of the air. Then I would reach into a quick running stream and pull out a rhythem that is so fluid and cool. Oh if I could be a song writer. Let me give it a try now.

When I walked into the room, I saw your ugly face.
Then I realized that I was looking at myself.
I cried dear Lord, look at what I've done.
I should have washed my face with a dove bar.

Oh Soap, you are so good to me.
You lather me up, for all the world to see.
You clean out my pores, and keep me pearly clean.
Oh Soap, you are the one thing I need.

Rights to this song are available for a small price. How bout $1.99.

Tri Lateral Forgiveness

2006-01-21T12:53:00.000-08:00

This is from a note that I received in the mail from a wonderful friend. She got it from a friend, and her friend received it from June Newman Davis.

Tri-Lateral Forgiveness
1. Ask God to forgive the person who did something to you.
2. Forgive the person for what they did to you.
3. Then ask God to forgive you for holding any criticism, judgment, bitterness, resentment or any unforgiveness in your heart towards that person because of what they did to you.

Hebrews 12:12-15 Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. "Make level paths for your feet," so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. Make every effort to live in peace with one another and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.

John 20:22 And with that he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.

Then pray the Lord's Prayer.

Chocolate City

2006-01-17T20:35:00.000-08:00

The New Orleans Mayor should win the tourism theme award. What a great idea to get people to come back to New Orleans.... A Chocolate City!! Its going to be a real life Candy Land or Willy Wonka World. The Streets will be paved with Missiissippi Mud Fudge, the milky melted Chocolate will flow in the beautiful fountains. Oh how wonderful. Light poles made of Chocolate sticks! Bushes made with Hershey Kisses and building made from chocolate bricks. I bet the government buildings will still be made out of white chocolate because it resembles marble.

So to the Mayor of New Orleans, congratulations on a great new theme to draw tourists and residents back to New Orleans.

My 24 Predictions for 24

2006-01-15T19:52:00.000-08:00

I have just watched the two hour season premiere of Fox's 24. Here is a list of my very own 24 Predictions about this upcoming season.
1. The bad guys are Russian separates loosely based on Chechan Rebels.
2. Former KGB agents are involved in the plot.
3. There is somebody involved in the shooting that is in the DOD.
4. There is a informant in CTU working for the enemy but unknowingly.
5. The woman and her son will not die, but one will be injured.
6. Jack will get shot in the leg and need, but perform his own medical treatment.
7. Some arms companies are tied to the assination because they do not want the arms deal signed.
8. The same arms companies will try to start a war between Russia and the U.S.A.
9. CTU in Los Angles will have a fire.
10. Some type of bird flu will work itself into the plot.
11. Tanks and heavy armored vehicles will roll down the main streets of L.A.
12. A prostitute will have to help Jack out.
13. The love interest from last season will resurface and Jack will French kiss the girl, but have to shoot some people before he can do any further in the relationship.
14. A Casino will be tied to the plot.
15. Three helicopters will crash in one show.
16. A Donut store will work itself into an important scene in the plot.
17. The former president isn't dead.
18. The First Lady will try to kill herself.
19. The President will be shot by the crooked Secret Service agent.
20. The Vice-President will get sick from the Bird flu.
21. Jack Baur will shoot a bazooka type weapon.
22. Somebody will get their arm cut off.
23. The old Olympic stadium will appear in one of the shows.
24. The plot will work itself into an important showdown that will be resolved all to simply and leave us all upset, but we will watch the next season anyway.

Dado is gone

2005-11-27T23:18:00.000-08:00

I got the message yesterday afternoon. A hello, and then the simple "Dado died." Who was this man? He was more than O.D. Loggins. He was and is my Grandfather.
I have so many memories of him now. Perhaps, someone's death is the key that opens the door to room that contains the vaults of forgotten memories. They flow together like a river fedby several different sources. They are all blurred together.
As I drove back to there home I saw the places of were we used to go--the old church, the fishing hole, and their old house.
I was unable to speak or see him during his last days with us. He even didn't get the birthday card that I waited too late to send.
I love, loved, and will love him.
I found this picture while looking through the safety deposit box for Life Insurance policies. It was in a plastic box full of important papers. Here a snapshot of a warm day at my great grandmother's house. The old green swing that no longer exists. The porch has been painted, the trees in the back are much larger now. Sadly in a the next year or two this house will fall to the progress of a new highway project.
But for now, I sit on the porch with my grandfather. He is singing "Doe, doe, doe see doe, doe, doe, see doe." All is ok. There is a future ahead for both of us. There is life for both of us. So now we hope. And as long as there is this blog, we will remain suspended in the realm of the electronic now.

I am a Sage

2005-11-21T22:47:00.000-08:00

With a few mouse clicks--wait I don't use with my laptop--With a slide of the finger and a few taps I discovered this interesting website that contained a very helpful test. There are quite a bit of tests on the web now. I like to take them, but I often don't like the answers. This test was quite different. I thought it confirmed attitudes and opinions about myself that I was already aware of.
So use this link to take this test and discover your spiritual type. Hopefully it will confirm what you already know, and if not hold up a mirror to discover a part of your life and faith that you hadn't really considered.
http://www.methodx.net/thelife/test.asp

Rediscovery of my Past through "The Picture"

2005-10-16T23:30:00.000-07:00

The Asbury Community is a place of much offense. When you drive across the "Wilmore Bridge," you see the tall Wilmore city water tower. On top of the tower, a great neon cross beams its light onto a dangerous seductive romance between religion and state. Oh how I wish the ACLU would come and take that ugly thing off the water tower.

If you would have walked into the seminary library last week, you would have seen a beautiful painting in the stairwell. If you slowed downed, and took the time to look at it, you would notice how the native Americans are portrayed. Some think they come across as vile savages.

I really dont find it offensive. There are so many things on our campus that are offensive. But if I were to make a list of the top five things, "The Painting" would not be on it.

Here is my list:
1. The Cross on the Water Tower.
2. The hasty generalizations of our African students.
3. The lack of seriousness about our study and vocation
4. The call for community made by people who adhere to the social norms of 90210
5. The whole "Its all about me" attitude of Christian service in our students

Well, there is some irony though about "The Picture." It turns out that I might actually be more "Native" then some people who are saying that this offends their heritage. Only time and my grandfather's birth certificate will tell.

Phases and Changes

2005-08-08T22:24:00.000-07:00

Life is always full of changes. Somebody with grey hair and big eyebrows long ago in the past said "Change is the one thing constant."
I came back home today. Every trip home has its own bits and pieces of change. The house looks different. The furniture has been rearranged. Where is the toliet paper? Our new kitchen is a puzzle to me. I open every drawer and cabinet before I cook anything so I will know where things are located. I try to put things back in their place, but often end up placing things on the kitchen table so somebody else can put it back.
Today I experienced some new change. This change hit my stomach. I went to eat some good BBQ pork at my favorite BBQ restaurant.
Much to my surprise and sadness there was a sign on the door which read as an obiturary. After 18 years of service, the doors were closed never to open again. No more pork, no more chicken, no more turkey, no more cole slaw, and no more texas toast. My heart and stomach will miss the food.
BBQ is special. The sauce is important too. I will now start a journey to find a place to fill the void in my heart and stomach. I hope I can find a place that can fill this void in my life.

The Circus is Coming to Town!

2005-08-03T21:25:00.000-07:00

Like clockwork the circus comes to Wilmore every year. However, if you run out to Lexington Ave to see elephants, clowns, and tigers you wont see any. This is a circus of miracles. Every year around the start of the new school year a new group of students find their way to Wilmore. Among the ranks you will hear all sorts of stories. Some quite interesting, others fairly normal. Each story though, contains a miracle.
There is also a special group of people that come in. These are the folks that stories are written about. These are the folks that take a little bit of extra grace. These are the folks that only come to seminary.

Summertime in the South

2005-07-02T20:57:00.000-07:00

It is summertime in the South. The air is hot and thick. Each breath seems to linger in your mouth like the thick smoke from a cheap cigar.

A cigar you bought from the convenience store. The heat drew you in there. You walked to the back where the coolers are.

Behind the frosty glass door sat bottles full of liquid air conditioning.

They look at you. You look at them.

Which one will you choose?

They all promise you something different.

The hot air outside has found its way inside. It awakens the smells of the convenience store—the pine trees of the mop water, the smell of stale chips in the wire racks, and the vinegar from the pickled egg and pigs feet jars.

Your mind wanders.

You want to open the cooler door and step inside, but you know that the clerk would get upset.

Instead, you open the door and take your time picking out which Dr. Pepper bottle you want.

You actually know which one you want, but you figure that if you look like you are shopping the clerk wont get upset at you holding the cooler door open.

You take a bottle and wonder, “Does this stuff really have prune juice in it?”

You walk up to the clerk at the cash register.

Do you have money? You pat your right pocket.

The change inside answers you as the dead presidents dance with your keys.

That is the sound of commerce.

You place the bottle on the counter.

“$1.25 please.”

You are surprised. Was it the “please” or the price? You remember when you could buy the same sized bottle for less than a dollar. You mind goes back to those days when you drove in the truck with your dad.

Those were the days before trucks were luxury things. There wasn’t any air conditioning in dad’s truck. You rolled down the window, hung out your arm, and let the motion of the wheels rolling down the hot black asphalt cool you.

“$1.25.” You awaken from your daydream into childhood.

You pay with exact change.

The air is so hot that the bottle is not that cold anymore. It felt like you pulled it out of a pack of ice from the North Pole when you pulled it out of the cooler.

Now it reminds you of touching the mailbox in the fall. It isn’t too cold and its all wet.

You sling the dew off of your hand into the air—it quickly fades away.

You open the bottle and the smell of the Dr. Pepper mixes with the smell of the hot tar on the road. You watch the mist come out of the bottle. It reminds you of the fog on the lakes in the fall. You take a drink. Your body cools from the inside out.

A cold soda feels so good in the summer time in the south.

You feel the air on your skin.

It moves with each move of your body.

The heat is too powerful for the cold soda to fight.

It was just a brief moment in the Oasis.

The air is getting heavier.

You feel it on your skin.

“Clap.”

It is thunder.

The heat and the humidity are dancing together. A storm is brewing, but from where?

The sky is bright and there are no gray clouds.

The air is getting heavier.

“Plit.”

It’s a rain drop hitting the hot windshield of a car.

“Plup.”

A drop hits your hot dry skin.

The showers come.

The sky gets darker, as if a giant eagle had you in the shadows of its wings.

The air gets cooler.

You can breath.

The rain hits the hot tar of the road.

The melt together and birth a smell that only road and rain can make.

It fills your lungs.

You can breath.

The air is cooler now.

You take a deep breath.

Your mind goes back to when you were baptized.

You remember that first breath you took when you came up from under the water.

You are full of peace. You heart is light. You can breathe. You are at peace with God. You feel as if you are really living.

You look around. The sunlight breaks through the light gray clouds. You see rays of sunlight beaming down.

You see God’s spotlight shining down on the stage of the world.

You close your eyes and breathe.

You open them. The rain has stopped. The clouds have passed over and the sun beams down brighter than before. The air is thick with the smell of fresh rain and hot tar. Today is summertime in the south.

Trial Run

2005-05-13T21:49:00.000-07:00

I drove past a Baptist Church the other day. Their sign read "Bro. Jones Trial Sermon this Sunday." What would happen if Bro. Jones preached poorly? Would the people not vote him in as pastor?
I can just see Bro. Jones walking up to the pulpit and saying, "Good morning people. I am so glad to be here. If you are hoping for me to feed your egos, challenge your beliefs, and while being entertaining, then Im not your pastor.
The pulpit is not a place for trials, but a place of proclamation. Id rather be a pastor that embodies the word, but is a terrible comedian, and knows no poems.

The Electronic Shoe Box

2005-02-19T22:36:00.000-08:00

Shoeboxes make wonderful storage containers. I love going through old shoeboxes. You might find some old letters, baseball cards, and maybe some money that has taken a vaction from the economy. My laptop has its shoeboxes too. They are the old file folders where papers and projects from classes forgeten rest. Today I opened up a file and I would like to share some words written in a day long forgotten.

I saw your face today
It looked different
There was love in your eyes
Something I couldn’t see before

Your hands looked different today
So did your side

I guess that is what happens to your body when you die
Die upon a cross
To save people
Who are lost

But lost from what? Or where?
Am I on a journey?
A voyage to a place unknown?

Why the cross?
Why the pain?
Why the lost?

Would I tread the path you took?
Would I sip the drink?
A poison
A prescription
A remedy for the pain

I can now look into your face
I can now see the love in your eyes
I take your hand
You take mine

Saving grace

Oxy Clean

2005-02-17T21:33:00.000-08:00

I use a generic Oxy Clean, but is that extra boost worth the cost when half your clothes fall into that layer of grim on the laundry room floor that is right in front of the dryers?

2005-02-17T06:55:00.000-08:00

Lesson on Time Management

Lessons on Time Management

2005-02-16T19:44:00.000-08:00

Today I would like to offer a refresher course on the skill of Time Management. It is quite easy to plan everything in your life to the point that you are not living, but simply checking off a very long to-do list. Sometimes the best way to manage your time is to waste time. Instead of rushing to your next class or appointment, take the time to look around. Listen! Look!

I like to talk to the Birds that nest on top of our Administration building. I believe that look at us and laugh. Sometimes I look up and listen to them. I hear them saying, "Look at these people of God rushing around trying to learn more about God, but they ignore all of God's crying out to them. They won't take the time to see his love notes written in the clouds, or hear his sweet songs on the wind, nor will they laugh and admire his creation. Why have they been fooled into believing that God exists in an unread textbook?"

The next time you see those birds on top of the administration building wave to them, and listen to them.

Welcome to Wilmore

2005-02-14T21:59:00.000-08:00

Hello World, I have entered into the Blog. I hope I can find my way out.