Wizard of Cos

You Shall Know the Truth, and the Truth Shall Make You Odd

2012-02-16T09:13:00.000-08:00

Flannery O'Conner was right on so many levels when she paraphrased the scripture from John's gospel (8:32). The truth will make you odd in many ways and in many circles, even in and around church. Church-ey stuff revolves around tradition, habits, guidelines, history, rules, regulations, manuals, and oh, yeah, the teachings of the Bible. But if you look closely, shoot, you don't even have to look that close, Jesus was pretty non-conformist. His teachings really got under the skin of the religious establishment. They still do.

The truth can make you odd at church and I accept that. The non-conformist, the courteous rebel, as Dr. Nat Tracy used to call them, will forever be pointing out biblical truth, the effects of ministries or the lack of them on forgotten groups or the underdogs in our culture and the world. They will challenge us to think through actions and attitudes to make sure ministries are solidly grounded on the truth as revealed in scripture. In short, these courteous rebels are a pain in the soul. God bless 'em and may their tribe increase.

The truth doesn't just make you odd at church. It can really make you odd in the larger society. Truth about freedom, morality, justice, equality, bigotry, marriage, love, sex, abuse, spending, greed, addiction and a lot of other subjects we don't touch on much at church any more will make you odd. People like to be free to make their own choices with regard to all the above mentioned subjects. The odd thing about life is that if you choose wrongly, slavery and bondage is the result. In Romans 1: 25 talks about a group who practiced forms of idolatry and exchanged the truth of God for a lie. The results was bondage to shameful and sinful lifestyles. This pattern has been repeating itself since the garden of Eden. And so today, we are seeing the results of these patterns. Well, I'm not going to list them here, just read Romans 1:28-32 and note the words Paul uses as he describes what happens to people who have exchanged the truth for lies.

Be careful here, the point from Paul and my pointing these things out is not harsh judgement and finger pointing at "those people'' who have messed up things. The question is about how to move away from slavery and bondage, for that matter even harsh judmentalism, and into joy and freedom. Here are a few thoughts on that....

Remember what Jesus really said in John 8:31-32: If you hold to my teaching, your are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth and the truth will set (make) you free. Truth is found in Christ's teachings and following them. Then comes freedom. By the way, that's not a catch, but an invitation.

Remember also what Jesus said about Himself in John 14:6. I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. Truth, you see, is not just prepositional, it is personal. We debate, argue, and interpret and re-interpret prepositional truth; we follow a the Person of Jesus and discover truth.

Commit yourself to the Truth. The Holy Spirit's job is to guide you into all truth (John 16:13-14). It has been our tradition not to allow ourselves to be led too well at times. When we commit ourselves to the hand of God's Spirit to move, make, re-arrange, add, subtract, multiply the attitudes of heart and mind know this: He will do it. He will show you the stuff of Ps. 139:23-24 as well as Jeremiah 33:3 (sorry, you know how this goes, you have to look them up yourself.) Be careful what you pray for but know the results will be true freedom.

Accept, nay embrace your oddness with which the mantle of truth has enveloped you. You will be at odds with accepted ways of doing life's business. Sometimes even at church. No need to be hurt as if you are persecuted as no one ever was before or haughty as if you had some special knowledge no one else has ever experienced. The truth will set you free and also give you peace. No need to fight in anger or react from wounded pride. We are told to speak the truth in love. We don't dictate the results, we trust that to the Lord.

Be humble with your new commitment to Truth. You and I will never have all of it to ourselves. We need Truth as others have learned it, experienced it, and lived it. This is a part of the joy of discovery.

We need Truth---not a dose, not a corrective, not a little, but unadulterated, undiluted, unabashed Truth that we love and live by, for and with. We have too often abandoned it for sentiment, nostalgia, acceptance from others and the world, popularity, success, power, and a hundred lesser gods. We need truth. It will make you odd but in this crazy world that's not a bad thing.

It will also make you free.
Cos

God's Not Down With That

2012-02-09T10:20:00.000-08:00

Some folks struggle with it, others, many others do not. Some in their struggle are burdened, conflicted, and disturbed. Some in their non-struggle are free, easy, unburdened and at peace with their world. I'm not sure who I feel worse for, the strugglers or the non-strugglers.

Some people struggle with the questions of what God allows, what is He 'okay' with regarding morality, societal mores, personal choices, lifestyles and just what He requires. Some people evidently never consider such questions. In your view is God lenient or a hard task-master requiring all to "toe the line" and He will get them in the end if they don't?

Maybe He is neither. Maybe we are asking the wrong questions. Maybe if we were honest we'd admit we are asking 'how much can I get by with without smelling sulphur and brimstone' or we are asking 'how little is required' to get me in the pearly gates. Some feel religion is a great way to circumvent the rules and slide in through the side door where St. Peter slides open a little door at eye level on the big door and asks: "what's the password?" "Well, I was a good Baptist, Catholic, Methodist....my grandfather was a preacher...... I gave $20 to disaster relief when that hurricane hit and my wife is a saint...." We will show him our religion card, remind him we are better than _________, and tell him we are really sorry if 'the man upstairs' wasn't always happy with the choices we made." That ought to do it, right? If it is a test that only requires a score of 51 on a scale of 100 to enjoy life and get into heaven, maybe so. What if life and faith isn't graded on a curve but on the Christ? What if the question is not just what I do but who I am? What if the requirement is holiness as God defines it? What if under those conditions none of us qualifies? Then there would have to be another way or there's no way.

The other way is Jesus, God in the flesh, redeeming sin and offering eternal life. Life and eternity are built on God's grace not my goodness. Abundant life and eternity become possibilities not by my obedience but my obedience becomes possible by my choice to respond freely to His love and offer of forgiveness. Life with all its joys means not how well I follow the rules but how deeply I fall in love with Christ and from a position of thankfulness, freedom, joy, and trust, I live, I do, I choose attitudes and actions that honor, please, uplift, and bring joy to the heart of Jesus.

Then we no longer will question what we can get by with, how much is enough or how little is required but we will ask how can I learn to follow my closely, love more deeply, respond more freely, and serve more sacrificially the Savior I love. No, God is not pleased with any and everything humans do. Jesus charged through the temple courts overturning tables set up to do a shady business where gentiles were suppose to be able to pray. He was hacked. Jesus told Peter in Matthew 16 to get behind me Satan, you are a stumbling block not thinking on the things of God but men. In Matthew 23, Jesus called the most religious, outwardly moral folks of his day hypocrites, blind guides, snakes, greedy, self-indulgent and bound for hell. God is not down with any and everything we do, think, feel, or say but it should be the love of Christ that constrains us ( 2 Cor: 5:14).

Paul wrote in Titus 2: 11-14: For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say "No" to ungodliness and worldy passion, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in the present age, while we wait for the blessed hope- the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.

Any struggles with how you love Jesus?
Cos

Finding Your Spiritual Stride

2012-02-02T09:59:00.000-08:00

We walk.
From ten or eleven months we walk and don't stop 'till we stumble into the grave. There are exceptions, of course, heartbreaking, painful exceptions, but we walk.

There are 137 references to walk, walked, walks, and walking in my concordance. Some merely reference where someone went or how they got there. Many passages in the Old and New Testament refer to walking with God walking in the way God would want you to walk.There are tender references like Hosea 3:11,"It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, taking them by the arms; but they did not realize it was I who healed them." Tender, yet sad. God's people did not know it was God who enabled them to walk. Consider the rebuke of Psalm 115:7 for Israel's idolatry.."they (false gods) have hands but cannot feel, feet, but they cannot walk"... the implication is to follow the One, True God that can hear, see, go and take you with Him. In the next chapter Ps. 116:8-9, the Psalmist is thankful "for you, O Lord , have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living." A clue for good living is discovered in Ps. 26: 3, "for your love is ever before me and I walk continually in your truth." Keys to a blessed life are revealed in Ps.89:15 where "blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O Lord. The Apostle Paul admonishes the faithful to live or walk in a manner worthy of the Lord and the writer of 3 John 4 says that "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth."

Good words in the Word about walking. I recommend studying it and add a confession. I have trouble with this 'walk with the Lord' thing. Not trouble conceptually or ideally but practically. I tend to run ahead or fall behind. Jesus' stride is too long some days. I can't keep up. Other days it seems He darts left and I have veered right. He stops and smells the roses (or creates some) and those times I'm ready for full speed ahead! There are periods I think I am trying to do too much and weeks and months I know I'm not doing enough. The Galatian church had some issues like this too. Gal. 5:7 points to this---"you were running well.Who cut in on you?" They got off course with doing things to prove their worth to God, which is of course an insult to His Son who proved on the cross the worth He attached to humanity. Nothing we could ever do could match that, so don't try so hard, enjoy the walk.

That, of course begs the question, how can I enjoy the walk with Christ and find my spiritual stride when I stumble, get off course, lag behind, or in presumption run ahead? Here are some lessons from the Bible and my dogs (who walk me) about that. It's unsettling that the two (dogs and Bible) can both teach me.

Hebrews 12:1 tells us to throw off every weight and sin that holds us back and trips us up and fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. To hit our stride and match it to Jesus' we have to rid ourselves of the excess weight of sin and guilt. If I'm weighed down by carrying stuff God doesn't want me to, then of course I can't keep up. The past, its guilt, my pride, my selfish ambitions, all slow me down. I'll never match His stride with full hands and a heavy heart. This passage also tells me where to look--to Jesus. Watching Him in His word, seeing him in my wife, children, grandchildren and friends, I am more likely to keep on the course He takes.

Now I also take a few walking lessons from my dogs. One, they always, and I mean always want to walk. Weather greatly affects whether or not I want to go, the dogs don't care, they want to walk. I should adopt this joy for myself. They are always enthusiastic, in fact, too much so at first. After a mile or so they settle into my stride and we all enjoy the rest of the walk, '--til they see a rabbit. I never taught them to walk slightly behind me and follow me, not the rabbit. I should apply said lesson to myself when it comes to following God. A.W.Tozer said that God is always previous. So it is our job to follow. But it also our joy, our privilege, our life. Psalm 63:8 reminds that "my soul follows hard after You; Your right hand upholds me."

To match our stride to His, to stay balanced between doing too much or not enough, this takes practice and wisdom that comes from the wisdom born of practice. It is a bit like prayer. One learns to pray by praying. You discover from others' lives and writings good lessons but basically you learn as you go. But we are not without a teacher, a leader, a guide and He is infinitely patient, often matching His stride to ours to encourage us along and keep us moving with Him. Revelation 21:22-27 delivers a promise that one day we will walk through the gates of slendor as we walk by the Light of the Lamb. I guess that's the best way to learn to walk with Jesus: forget the lamp, follow the Lamb.

Isaiah 41:31,
Cos

The Stars At Night...

2012-01-19T09:01:00.000-08:00

It was one of those evenings we have occasionally. It was clear, no wind, low humidity and a temperature somewhere in the mid forties. I think the cedar pollen was relatively low that night. The air felt good to the skin, the cool air was invigorating to the lungs. I had gone out to feed the dogs, I sat down and looked up to feed my soul.

One of the advantages to White Bluff, where I live, is that there are no city lights and very, very few street lights. It is dark out here. That night was absolutely perfect for star gazing and my goodness did they ever put on a show. Any direction I turned was a symphony of light... bright to nebulous, twinkling to steady, stacked to scattered. There was so much to see that it was overwhelming and all but impossible to take it in. Soothing, thrilling, and just plain beautiful. It was a "wow" moment.

I was still somewhat mesmerized the next day when I remembered the night. I got on the computer to learn a bit more. One of those stars I guess I saw was Alpha Centauri. It is the closest star other than our sun to Whitney. It is a mere 4.24 light years away. Somewhere up there or out there is Barnard's star, the second closest at 4.6 light years away.( all distances approx. from the covered bridge in White Bluff) The farthest visible star is Star Carnae at 200 light years. The farthest galaxy clocks in at 13.2 billion light years away. A light year is 5,878,499,810 miles. There are between 200 to 400 billion stars in our Milky Way Galaxy.( I know that is a big difference but seriously, when you lose track at 87 billion and have to start counting again, any astronomer might be off by a hundred billion or two.)Do the math, those suckers are long way off. I didn't know I could see so well. The trouble is when we star gaze, we are literally looking back in history, ancient history. By the time the light from those stars reaches my back yard, they may be dead, gone, burned out. I'm seeing light that began its journey to my eyes long before my eyes or even my world was created. Turns out we can all see a long way, can't we?

We see back into history, can any of us see very far into it? No, not really. While I was sitting in the yard a couple of weeks ago about 10:30 PM I was just enjoying the show. I had a dog sitting under each hand, getting an ear rub. One of them decided to "thank" me and jumped up to give a lick--he got me right on my glasses. I took them off to clean with a hem of my tee shirt and noticed I couldn't see any stars. Unable to focus without the proper lenses their awe and beauty were lost to me. There were still there, I just couldn't access them with my weak eyes no longer assisted my glasses. I suppose many of the things of God are like that. We can see back into our history but don't realize that that old stuff is gone. We face circumstances in life where we can't see God at work, but like the stars during the day or when our faith lenses are cloudy, He is still there. Like starlight, a lot of what appears pretty and nice now, may actually be already gone. And when we can't see into the future, we can always look by faith to Jesus who always gives us enough vision to
follow Him into it.

The vastness of the universe I can't begin to comprehend. I just enjoy the show and marvel at its beauty on starry, starry nights. And God is bigger and His love more vast and almost beyond comprehension is this truth: He loves you and me. You won't get that message from the stars but from the One who hung them and named them (Ps.147:4) and demonstrated that love for us that while we were yet sinners, He died for us. (Romans 5:8) At least a part of eternity should be to gaze into that truth for a few light years and let it sink in.

Deep in the heart,

Cos

A "To Do" List

2012-01-11T12:50:00.000-08:00

I finished my "to do" list for the year, unfortunately the year in mind is 2009. Oops, all the official documents in my life say it is 2012 but not one nerve fiber in my body, mind, or spirit will attest to that fact. It can't be. Looking back on 2011 I have to confess that I accomplished nothing...diidly squat, goose-egged, nada, the big "O." Most who read this blog are kind-hearted positive folk who will try to counter that last statement. All eight of you search in vain. There's nothing there. Let me share what didn't happen last year....

I didn't win the Pulitzer Prize for literature. True, I thought I had a better shot in 2010 but no one even nominated me this year. I haven't figured out if this fact should make me try harder, give up or find a more influential group than the eight who read this thing. The Pulitzer process being what it is I'm not sure if anyone I know could even get in the nominating circle. Maybe next year, oh wait, next year is already this year, dang!

I also didn't break 80 on the golf course. Now technically I guess I did break 80 but it was usually by the 14th or 15th hole that I passed it going up. It's also true that I spent little time on the driving range or putting green but I would have thought luck would have had some effect. I also know that those eastern religions with some thing called "karma" aren't true either because I supplied the golf course with plenty of extra balls in her woods and lakes. Such offerings should have brought lots of good karma but nope, not a bit. I have to be lucky or forgetful to break 90 now. I have gotten lots of satisfaction walking the course and finding golf balls. I have actually gone back out on my walks and found balls I had lost a day or two before. That's the only part of my game that has improved.

I didn't get to New York this past year either. Pam and I have been talking about it for years. I can actually see it happening now whereas before it was just a silly hope. In fact, I've saved enough that with only four thousand more dollars Pam and I will go. It may not be 2012 but it's closer.

I also didn't go on a spiritual retreat this past year. There were some real, unavoidable reasons for it in 2011 but the bottom line was I didn't make it. Part of the problem is where I live. You are suppose to go to a quiet place where you can commune with nature, relax and maybe recreate a little. On retreat you take time to think, pray, and discover anew and afresh who the Lord is and who you are in Him. You see the problem, I live in a place like that all the time! My "retreat" needs to be be street preaching in the hustle and bustle of noisy Houston, LA or New York. Hey, maybe I could go to New York, preach in the streets and use my convention money and call it a spiritual retreat. Well, if I hadn't just put it in a blog maybe I could have....

One other thing I didn't do in 2011. I didn't die. Its not that it was on the agenda or my bucket list but I guess that was one thing I accomplished in 2011. It took a lot of grace for that to happen, too. I seem to recall some truths taught about dying to self in the context of following Christ. Yeah, that needs to happen better in 2012. The truth is, it is very unlikely that I will win the Pulitzer Prize in 2012 or any year that begins with "20." I am not a good golfer. I may never break "80." There is still a little hope there but it fades with every slice. We will get to New York but the real plans of living life have more to do with visiting family and church members than Broadway. And one day I will die. I don't know if it is 2012 or 2020. I can't see those things but I can see the dying to self, ambition, pride, having to have my way, having to be right and coming more alive to Jesus, His life and His will and joy more than ever. And if that happens more in 2012 then the things that don't happen won't matter any more than they did in 2011.

Gotta go, it's almost Christmas,

Cos

The Sounds of the Season Are Seasoned with Soundness

2011-12-14T07:02:00.000-08:00

Quickly now, if you added all the gifts in the little Christmas Carol, "The Twelve Days of Christmas," how many gifts would you receive? You said 364 which is correct. With the 12 days of Christmas beginning the day after Christmas and extending to Epiphany Sunday (on or near to Jan. 6) in merry ole England you would have a gift each day until next Christmas. Of course, you'd have to sell the golden rings to feed all those Lords a'leaping and maids a'milking. Bummer.

Consider for a few moments the absolute treasure chest which is the church's in her ever expanding library of of Christmas music. Whether ancient or modern, contemporary or traditional, in her hymns, anthems, and songs you find sound theology and captivating beauty in both lyric and melody. The authors and writers have left us emotionally stirred, intellectually stimulated, and abundantly grateful as they help us explore and expound the Eternal. The words and music of Christmas bring to expression every wonder, hope, sorrow, inquisition, resolve, and fulfilment of the heart of man while attempting to express the heart of God revealed in the Babe in a Manger. These expressions range from the haunting to the lilting; from the solemn to the triumphant; from the contemplative to the joyous. A few examples are needed......

In the music of Veni Emmanuel and the words of 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel' we hear, and feel the longing and the haunting hope of men of ages past and present. It is a plaintive prayer for redemption as it both describes the need and prescribes the healing balm. Ransom is called for in verse one, disbursement of gloom in verse two as well as death is requested to be sent away. In our earthly chaos, heavenly order is needed in verse three and unity and peace prayed for in four. In all cases the refrain lifts a bit to rejoice as if it were too much to even hope for yet it's true as the needs are met when "God with us," Emmanuel comes.

Can you not find yourself engaging in deep contemplation with Mary in the stable and asking questions as she must have asked when you hear or sing "What Child is This?" The Lord of the Universe, maker of heaven and earth who with a word spoke the world into existence, now wraps Himself in humanity's flesh and risks His healing of the rebellion of sinful man in the care and love of a teenager. Why does He lie in such a common, lowly place? He does it to plead the for the hearts of sinners. Why? Why? Why? With each question comes a deeper answer and a deeper question 'til all contemplation takes you to the heart of God's love knowing you will never plumb those depths but will grow in awe and wonder in the endeavor.

And rightly so, many of the songs of Christmas are joyous and triumphant. How could they not be full of 'Joy to the World...(why?) the Lord has Come!' The King is here to be received! What does one do with this good news of great joy? O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, come and behold Him born (verb, already happened) King of the Angels. What do we see when we come? We see "Christ, by heav'n adored Christ the everlasting Lord! Veiled in flesh the Godhead see; Hail the Incarnate Deity! So first we Adore Him in worship and then we Go Tell It On the Mountain that Jesus Christ is born!

And still, at the end of nearly every Christmas eve service one carol stands out. It is solemn, yet not frightening. It helps one contemplate the mystery of Christ's birth. Most mysteries carry in their unknown nature a distance lest the unknown turn out to be something you wish you didn't know. In this simple melody, the mystery of the Incarnation and these words draw you in to the beauty, joy, and triumph of Bethlehem much like a warm fire draws you to its glow. This song is, of course, Silent Night. Written originally in Austria by Fr. Joseph Mohr in about 1816 or 18. The music was added by his school-teacher friend, Franz Gruber, for the Christmas service at St. Nicholas church in Oberndorf, Austria. Legends grew around the song about a damaged organ and a children's choir. No objective, historical proof exists of these motivations but the song was written for and performed at first by guitar with Mohr and Gruber singing six verses of "Stille Nachet! Heilige Nacht!" at the midnight mass in 1818.

The song traveled and the popularity of it grew despite its simple music and words or maybe because of its simplicity. Ironically, Gruber's name was not associated with the song and the music was thought to be that of Haydn, Mozart or Beethoven, at least by some. By the time the song had truly become famous in the 1860's, Fr Mohr had died. Gruber wrote to music conservatories in Berlin explaining that he had written the music but no one believed him. Finally, an 1820 manuscript of Fr. Mohr's was found and in the upper right hand corner was this note: 'Melodie von Fr. Xav. Gruber.' Finally, Gruber got the credit, we receive the blessing and God gets the glory.

The Church sings because we have a song. It is the song of the ages placed in our hearts because the Singer of creation, grace, redemption, forgiveness, and love has taken up residence there. O Come to my heart Lord Jesus, there is room in my heart for Thee.

Keep Singing, use music if you can,
Cos

Hymns or Carols, What's the Difference?

2011-12-08T05:38:00.000-08:00

Do you know the difference between a hymn and a carol? According to Phillip Brunelle, founder and director of VocalEssence in Minneapolis they are not exactly the same. The word 'carol' is derived from the Italian 'carolare' meaning to sing, to dance and thence 'carola' meaning a ring dance. The Italians also broadened the French word 'querole' or 'carole' to describe tunes used to accompany celebration dances, whether religious or not, mostly not. Carols were originally thought of as circle dance that was accompanied by singing. A hymn had more theological implications originally and was not made for dancing. Later Augustine, the early church theologian, took it even farther using very strict guidelines of theological truth and musical solemnity for a song to reach 'hymn' status.

So are what we sing at this time of the year Christmas songs, hymns, or carols? I guess that depends on who you ask and how strict their interpretations are. One thing we know is that the Christmas carols have stuck around now for 600 plus years. The most enduring ones coming out of European traditions, mostly Latin, English, and German. Again, according to Brunelle, their endurance is attributed to "step wise" melodies which means they go up and down the scale--think "Joy to the World" and "The First Noel." One popular theory is that we sing these songs, hymns and carols every year because of their nostalgia and taking us back to when..... There is much about the art and science of music I have no clue about but I have a theory, slightly different from Dr. Brunelle's as to why we sing these songs, hymns, and carols: we can't help it.

We can't help ourselves because God made us that way. Music is universal. In every culture there is something akin to singing, praising, and expressing joy and sorrow through music. The ancient hymnbook of the Hebrews contains many verses about the messiah. When Mary was told of her conception by the angel and had visited Elizabeth she wrote a song in Luke 1:46ff. When Zechariah recovered his voice after the birth of John the Baptist he broke out in song (see Luke1:67ff) and most of it was about the messiah and not his kid. When shepherds were told about the new born king a choir of angels punctuates the good news toward men with heavenly tunes.

We can't help but sing. But it has become one of the deceiver's great schemes to still our songs, silence our tongues and thus steal our joy. But the church rises up every Sunday and especially at Christmas and shakes our hymnals and overhead screens in the face of the adversary to remind him that he cannot take our joy any more than he could keep Jesus in the grave. God has made us in such a way that the overwhelming truth of His Incarnation, the mercy shown, the salvation given, the righteousness imparted, and heaven opened will be sung.

The way I see it, Christians themselves actually become the hymns, the songs, and the carols of the Incarnation by the way we display this grace God has given. Has your life caused others to want to join the choir and sing the songs of Life?

Keep Singing, use your voice if necessary.

Cos

PS: The rest of the month we'll look at a few Christmas carols and hymns and discover the back story.

The Advent Turkey

2011-11-22T13:25:00.000-08:00

"Papaw, is it wrong to not like Thanksgiving?'' Reggie asked his grandfather.
"Well, I think that depends, Reggie, on why you don't like it or if its just certain parts you don't like. Tell me what's on your mind."
"I guess its just parts of it but some of the parts kinda take over the whole day."
"Like what, Reggie?"
"Like lunch, Papaw. We have to get up early to come over here to your house. Breakfast is usually just a piece of toast or cereal and Mom is yelling at us to hurry up or we'll be late. Then we get here and we don't actually have lunch 'til 2:30 and I'm starving and I don't like turkey."
"Well, that is a problem. I think I can fix a part of it. Why don't you and I split a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to tide us over 'til our 2:30 lunch. We'll just make that part of our tradition."
"That'll be great but it doesn't change all that other funny tasting stuff Mom and Gran-up expect me to eat. We eat that red gloop out of a can twice a year. I just don't like it."
"Red gloop?"
"Yeah, its some kind of berry stuff.''
"Oh, you mean cranberry sauce. I think Thanksgiving will survive without your eating the red gloop."
"And I kind of like that smashed cornbread but that egg gravy is gross."
"I think you mean dressing and giblet gravy. I can take care of that one, too. That egg gravy is a bit much to look at. Anything else?"
"Naw, Papaw, if you can help with those things I'll survive Thanksgiving."
"Well, you need to do more than survive it, Reggie. I mean this is only your ninth Thanksgiving, I've been at this for sixty-seven years and my ninth one was the worst one. I didn't think I'd survive that one but here I am and Thanksgiving has become about my favorite holiday despite egg gravy."
"You like it better than Christmas?!?"
"Yep."
"Why was your ninth one so bad?"
"I got confused about Thanksgiving and Advent-- know where we talk about getting ready for Jesus' birth and waiting on Christmas-- we light the Advent candles every year at church... all those things...
"Yeah, our family got to light the pink candle last year. It was kinda cool."
"I remember... well, anyway, when I was nine, the first Sunday of Advent happened to be the same weekend of Thanksgiving. I had a part in my elementary school's Thanksgiving play the Wednesday before. We dressed up like Pilgrims and Indians and animals and even food remembering the first Thanksgiving in our land. That all went fine, I was a talking Turkey talking about how thankful people were going to be to have a great feast. But disaster struck that Sunday. I was suppose to talk about the Advent candle of Hope, the first one. I had my two lines memorized and when it came time to talk and when I looked out at all those church people, I just froze. I couldn't remember a word. Finally, my mom gave me a hint and I remembered! Only problem was I remembered my line from school the Wednesday before and told the whole church that "at this special time of year, we all enjoy the Advent Turkey and all the blessings we have been given."
"You said Advent Turkey? Ha, ha, hee, hee ...what did you do, Papaw?"
"Oh, the whole church started laughing. I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do except cry. My big brother laughed at me all month. He still makes fun of me for that. But I'll never forget what the preacher did. He asked my family to do the Hope candle again at Advent the next year. I heard a few laughs, expecially from your great uncle Ned, but I got through it just great. Later at the kid's Christmas party the preacher called me over and told me he had an extra ornament to hang on the tree and asked if I would do it. I said sure and then he showed it to me. It was a turkey ornament. Before I could laugh or cry he stopped me and said, 'I know what you're thinking but I thought about what happened last year and I'm not making fun of you. It just that Thanksgiving with the turkey and dressing and pies makes more sense if we remember the things other than food that we should be thankful for. I thought of you and how you put Christmas and Thanksgiving together accidently last year. So from now on, I'm going to hang this Turkey ornament on the tree to remind myself that the first thing I should do when I think of Jesus' birth is to be thankful. We don't have a thankful candle on the Advent wreath but now I've got an Advent Turkey to help keep me Thankful.

"Papaw, you made that up. I know you...but it is funny...an Advent Turkey...ha,ha,ha
"Reggie, we're getting ready to decorate the tree after the Cowboys game. But I want you to go look in that really old box of Christmas ornaments beside the tree. Unwrap the one in the brown tissue paper and tell me what you find........
"Papaw! It's true, its true!.....

Well, its Advent time again, Turkeys, so be thankful........
Cos

Sitting Room Only--- John 5:1-16

2011-11-10T09:49:00.000-08:00

In just a glance you could probably see it but by really looking, gazing deeply into the faces in those crowds, like Jesus did in Matthew 9:36, you begin to really notice it. Beyond the poverty, disability, and their unsophisticated ways and you see humanity, you see hurt, you see hope, and you see people, like all of us, who need Jesus.

The porch at Bethesda in John 5 was a place like that-- people hurting, disabled, fearful, and yet hopeful that an Angel of the Lord might bring healing to the nearby waters. "If I can get there first," was their only hope, or so it seemed.

We don't look for angels to stir the waters in our lives much anymore, maybe we should. We look for stirrings in our lives in different places now. We look to be stirred by work, reality TV, sporting events, by lotteries, fishing, golf, vacations, whatever.... But like the lame, blind and paralyzed on Bethesda's porch you have to get there first, just ask Ranger fans or Alabama fans. You can get five numbers right but it takes six to win the jackpot. You can make a million bucks for your firm this year and the boss has forgotten by next year. So for people on Bethesda's porch or in Wal Mart or in front of the TV, they are waiting, looking, hoping for a stirring in their hearts, their lives. But the hope is fleeting because the world tells us you have to have great timing or great luck and come in first and first doesn't last long. There is always another game, another sale, another deal, another season, another show and we have to line up again and again, maybe even for 38 years, and hope for first.

But angels don't show up regularly and its hard for crippled humans, whether of body or soul, to move quickly to stirred waters. So for those who rarely or never come in first, Jesus shows up at last, and He's coming to a well near you, probably the one in your heart.

And Jesus shows up asking questions: 'do you want to get well?' The cripple at Bethesda's porch answers that the only way he knows isn't working. Jesus would ask us the same thing--do you really want to get well? Yes, but what I've learned to do, tried to do, and joined others in doing isn't working. We tried making more stuff and became addicted materialists. We tried more work and became workaholics with big mortgages, two marriages and distant kids. We tried self-reliance and became so independent that we lost that part of humanity called community. We tried more leisure and got lazy. We tried to live for ourselves and found ourselves crippled with addictions, syndromes, disorders, greed, empty thrills, inequalities and injustices.

So whaddaudo?

Listen. Listen to what Jesus tells all those faces in the crowd: "Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "Come, follow me." "Don't be afraid, just believe." "Everything is possible for him who believes. "Woman your faith is great, your request is granted." "Your faith has saved you, go in peace."

It is true what Dr. Charles Poole once observed, the porch is never empty. It is SRO. But when Jesus shows up hope and healing, peace and salvation do, too. And be certain of this, Bethesda's porch still exists. You see it in line at Wal Mart, lining the halls of nursing homes, standing in line for a bowl of porridge in a refugee camp, filling stadiums, sitting in hospitals and clinics, and waiting for God knows what in front of countless electronic screens. All these faces in all these crowds have this in common: ~~they~~, we all need Jesus.

But how does Jesus get to all those porches? Don't worry, He's there. His Spirit is there, His church is there. In fact, maybe the world and the church would be better off if we quit worrying so much about getting the crowds to church and took Jesus to Bethesda's porches. Then all those faces in all those crowds might see something of Jesus in our faces, and we certainly would see His in theirs.

"And remember the truth that once was spoken, to love another person is to see the face of God."
Jean Val Jean--Les Mes

Cos

An Open Back Door II

2011-11-02T12:19:00.000-07:00

Last time up to blog the Rangers had a chance, the Cowboys were a .500 team, and Kim K was still married. Things change. But for the church, often times the changes bring opportunities that we never could have imagined. I am calling these back door opportunities when the front doors of accepted morality, dialogue, political influence, church status, and the given-ness of the relevancy of Christ and His church are closing in our culture. Rejoice! The church has great opportunities for the true power of the gospel and authentic faith in the True Savior to shine like stars in our darkening skies (Philippians 2:15). Back door friends are often the closest anyway.

I had mentioned last time opportunities in the Arts, in the area of civility and manners, and by genuine relationships in an electronically connected world but one in which people are more disconnected than ever.
Here are a few more back door opportunities........

4. Marriage-- many couples from young to old are now co-habitating. Gay marriage in many opinion polls is accepted by over half the populace in our culture. In light of the mindsets that have called into question the validity of marriage, in practice if not in sentiment, the church has a great opportunity to show the beauty, strength, stability, and benefits of marriage lived out in commitment to God and to one another. Kim Kardashian's 72 day marriage shows what's wrong. Marriage was based on feelings of love and the desire for the fairy tale romance. Christian marriage is based on commitment to God, His truths, and a commitment made by husband and wife to explore life together. In this marriage you are free to discover more about God, yourself, and your spouse. This "till death do us part" commitment frees, stabilizes, secures, and develops its lovers. Grace abounds, faith grows, and in this commitment is found the soil for true, growing and abiding love. It takes more that 72 days to explore and develop this kind of love. The church has a great opportunity to show it in the lives of Christ's followers. And it doesn't cost $10 million but is worth far more.

5. Consider the back door of faith. Our culture is continually placing its faith, demonstrating its faith in politics, politicians, government programs, Wall street, new business models, fame, fortune, and consumption of food, drink, entertainment, sports and other lesser gods to be disappointed, disillusioned, and increasingly dysfunctional. How about the church comes along and demonstrates solid, intelligent, compassionate faith in Christ? A faith is only as good as its object. The object of the church's faith is Jesus Christ. It may not always be as flashy, as profitable, or produce cuddly feelings but its Object, Jesus, brings to those who trust Him what they truly has been searching for--joy, hope, peace and love lived out in meaningful, purposeful, and what He called abundant living. In the light of this world's instability, sentimentalism, and emotional radicalism, this door is always open.

6. The Values door--Each of the values I list probably has three more to go with them and these values aren't always accepted in our society at all levels but the church can be the guardian and demonstrator of: courage even in the face of ridicule, persecution, misunderstanding, bullying, peer pressure and marginalization. Joy--so many people seek happiness and miss it because it is circumstantial. Joy in the midst of pain or suffering or even in the routines of daily living, points to a more noble calling. The deep, seated peace of knowing that God is in control and will take care of you for eternity brings rest and peace. It shows up as joy for it emanates from within. Peace, in the face of fear, fidelity to truth in a world of compromise, honesty when its easier to cut corners, self-giving, self-sacrifice, commitment to all things excellent, noble, trustworthy and the whole Philippians 4:8-9 thing will stand in sharp contrast with lesser offerings from lesser motivations.

7. The door of risky compassion. This compassion, or love in action, is propped open by sacrifice, generosity, and abandonment of control of the outcome. The church may start a ministry and it may fail. The church may start another church and it may not grow to self-sufficiency. So be it. The church risks because the church loves. Hope and love always have an element of risk. Instead of gambling or riding roller coasters, try starting a church for people who don't like church, or addicts, or prostitutes. Talk about thrilling! The church that does this will lose money from time to time, but never will they lose their investment.

8. A gentle knock on the back door of Biblical literacy will be answered by some. The church has a story to tell. It is the gospel story. We need to learn it well and share it often because so many on our world have no idea what truths are contained in the Bible that can bring them to Life. Our culture at one time knew about Moses and the parting of the Red Sea, Daniel and the lion's den, being poor like Job and what it meant to be in the fiery furnace. I'd be willing to bet the church can find a way to get the truths from those stories out there again.

9. Justice, Justice. Justice! Learn it, live it by word, deed, calendar, and wallet, and demonstrate it.

10. There is a back door into people's lives opened by Christians living lives of assurance and persuasion. With assurance of the future and being fully persuaded that God is present in each encounter, meeting, person, transaction, and adventure, in order to share His life with His children, our relationships and work are thus transformed into venues of sharing His grace and Sovereignty with all.

( Two more and I'll quit. This is turning into a book.)
11.There is a Power door. The church can demonstrate what Tullian Tchivdjian (Billy Graham's grandson) calls non-power. This is surrender to God's Sovereignty and His control. It is what Robert Capon called left-handed power (think Jesus, creator of the universe, dying on a cross)--not a power of physical, military or financial might, but one which allows truth to seep in slowly and deeply into the soul where it can change a rebellious sinner into a lover and follower of God.

12. A door called desire. I believe many would follow a church or a Christian who's desire was truly to be with Jesus and to abandon every thing in body, soul, mind, and spirit that either hampered one's relationship with Him.

Add to this list, subtract from it but by all means go to the back doors in the world and knock. Knock and the doors will be opened.

Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door, and the world's too for that matter.
Cos

An Open Back Door

2011-10-27T12:25:00.000-07:00

Family and people who knew us never came to the front door of the farm house in which I grew up. One would have to park on the road or well onto the lawn ( I use that term loosely) to make their way to the front door. Everyone who was any one to our family would follow the drive 'round to the back of the house and knock on the back door, or in some cases just come on in. I don't recall ever locking the back door until I was about fourteen or fifteen and then you could just raised the window next to the door and reach in to unlock it. I think the lock was used more to hold the door shut against the wind as much as anything.

I realize that front doors are considered more formal, proper, and mannerly but I have noticed that the front door to the world's heart and mind is being kept shut against the wind of the Spirit and His church, especially in the Western world. In a few cases I understand. The church has at times seemed in some eyes as arrogant, pushy, presumptive, or irrelevant. Although I believe those perceptions in many cases to be wrongly assigned the truth of the matter is that the front door to people's hearts and mind is shut tighter than ever. Bad press, competition from other religions and worldviews, poor exhibition and extremes from some churches, monastic mindsets without the monastery, lack of loving compassion by too many Christians, and human spiritual devolvement have led to a closing of the minds and hearts of many.

The only proper response from the church is this: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Why rejoice? To paraphrase I Corinthians 16:9, "a great back door of opportunity has opened for us and one of the ways we know it is the opposition by the front door." (italics mine, no one else would claim it anyway.) So what do these back door opportunities look like in the world around us. I will spend a blog or two listing some of these entrances for the gospel to knock and be asked in to people's lives. These may morph into a sermon series next year or a book. LOL!LOL! Okay, okay, I might get a sermon of two out of these thoughts but I am serious in that the church has a great opportunity to share the gospel in word and deed in these areas. No ranking by the numbers by the way, it just fell out of my head that way.

Back Door Number 1: The Arts door. This is on my mind because of the beauty and depth that the string quintet added to our service Sunday but it has been in my heart for years. The church should support, revive, and maintain performing, visual, and literary art. The Arts help display and express like none other the beauty, intricacies, rhythm, precision, passion, harmony, imagination, and creativity of God. These can be used mightily by the Spirit to touch the human soul. The Arts also provide a wonderful outreach to many who, because of their life's circumstances, can't get to the "arts district." The church can bring these to people through their support of the arts in many ways, starting with worship. A beautiful door it is.

Back Door Number 2: Human Connectedness. Yes, we are connected like never before and the hardware and software in coming years will make obsolete our iPhone and pads. Yet, for all our connectivity, isolation and loneliness has never been higher. Suicide, depression, anxiety disorders all show the truth of this isolation. The church can position itself to provide true connections between people. The church must think more about people than programs. Of all peoples, we should know about true connections and relationships. One on one, one on two, two on five we must relate as humans to one another. Have we forgotten how? Probably. Put the cell phone down, log off the computer, make the tea, and invite a human to sit down and talk with you. It will scare the daylights out of both of you. Good. Start easy with another Christian then move out. Adopt a block, attend a small\cluster group, make friends with convenience store clerk. No agenda, just be a friend, then watch what Jesus does. (Hint: what He does will probably be more to you than the other person)

Back Door Number Three: Civil Engineers. Through our youth and children's ministries the church can launch an army of "civil" engineers to permeate society with gracious speech and conduct over the next generations. We bemoan the lack of civility in our society, the church has the people and resources to address the issue. But we would do this because of a different motivation. We believe that human beings were made in the image of God and have intrinsic value. We believe that Christ died for all and all should be loved as He loved them. So we teach our parents in church to teach the children to speak and conduct themselves toward others as Christ would. Here is the church functioning as salt and light showing grace to all. Will we make society more respective and kind? I don't know but whatever society is doing isn't working. Also, can't we do some things because it is right and is one of the best ways to show respect to other human beings made in God's image? We may never hear a thank-you but our society can surely hear it from us, can't it? There are probably a hundred opportunities a day to practice civility and manners as we engage our society so let us teach and model these manners in Christ name and see if this door isn't held open to the church for other ministries as well.

I've got a few more doors for next week.

Come on in,
Cos

State Fair Faith

2011-10-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

Our State Fair is a Great State Fair, Don't Miss it, Don't even be late..."

Oops. For the eighteenth year in a row I'm going to miss our great state fair. I didn't intend to go this long without going, it even seems downright un-Texan to miss it so much. But you know how it goes, the kids get big enough to go on their own, we lived between three and seven hours drive from Dallas most of those eighteen years, work got in the way too... we just haven't made it.

I rather enjoyed the Fair when I went. The exhibits, the "free" stuff, the new cars, the animals, the shows, and of course, the midway. You just can't beat all that fried food and sweets. Well, wait a minute. If a restaurant charged the same amount as those booths at the fair do and it tasted like most Fair food tastes we'd either send it back or never go to that restaurant again. An expensive lesson in developing a discriminating palate no doubt.

In my elementary school days when our school drove everybody to Dallas for the Fair, I still hadn't learned the proper techniques and timing for eating junk and riding rides. It takes a couple of years but you figure it out. An rather inexpensive lesson in human physiology really.
I wish everyone could experience the Fair, even getting snookered by a carny trying to win at an impossible game. I think I lost fifteen bucks which was lot then. Cheap lesson , in economics, really.

I remember being really fascinated by the "shows" at the fair featuring bearded women, strong men, Bonnie and Clyde's death car, the human slinky, Siamese twins, and the world's fattest twins. Where else could fifty cents get you in to see so much refined culture? Those shows grew tiring after a few years even though the boss might change the name or paint a different poster to raise interest. Another fairly inexpensive lesson in advertising techniques and the brokenness of humanity. Most of the sideshows were of broken people being taken advantage of by broken people to be gawked at by broken kids with now empty wallets. Great lessons at the Fair, all in one place and at a fair price.

If you think about it, God could have made a killing at the Fair with the characters from Bible. You talk about a great state fair just imagine behind those curtains is Moses parting a huge tank of water and walking himself and a few people from the audience through it. Samson could have put all the other Fair strongmen out of business. Elijah could have taken any heavy object from the crowd and thrown it in a tank of water and made it float like he did the lost ax head. Paul could let rattlesnakes and cottonmouths bite him. Daniel would be a hit with his lion taming act. If Jesus shows up, well forget about it...walking on water, healings, raising the dead. Wow, what a show!

That's where we need to be careful, we enjoy the show and forget the lesson. If you consider the length of time that the Old Testament covers, the miracles, the "shows" are spread out pretty far. Abraham lived about 2200 BC as an educated guess. Moses, some believe started writing down the things that happened about 1450 BC from the oral traditions passed on to him and the things that God revealed to him. The point is that more than likely, you personally, if you lived in those times would never see the great things God did in history. He rescued, He saved Israel. He miraculously preserved His people moving salvation history toward the day of Jesus coming. You would hear about them and a few of you could read about them. The rest of the years and for the vast majority of the generations that lived in Old and New Testament times, you lived by faith.

God still does miracles but that's not the whole show, the lesson. The greatest miracle that still remains is that God through Christ redeems sinful men and calls them to walk with Him daily in a relationship of love and service. It is often not fancy, just put your head down and take one step after the other after the other after the other...We need to be careful to not just go down the midway of life looking for the next big show that excites us spiritually but to walk in faithful obedience with the One who helps us exhibit His Presence, His Life, His Love to all who have been broken in a sinful world.

That's a pretty Fair deal.

Cos

Ironman Is Missing

2011-10-10T08:17:00.000-07:00

He flew in from New Mexico with sister, mom and dad safely in tow. Dressed in maroon and gold, complete with mask, he soared around the living room, dining room, kitchen and halls. Our hearts soared with him. He was busy saving the world. But he was never too busy to stop, remove his mask, remind us of who he really was, just in case we forgot. He'd kiss his sister and fly off again in real adventures while the rest of us in the world toiled in its imaginary exsistence of imaginary importance.

When Ironman wasn't in suit and flying high, a little ironman went with him in his pocket. He went to the store, he went to play golf, he went to the zoo, he shot little darts at bad guys. When Ironman went to sleep, little ironman kept watch over the family while perched on the table, the counter, or the dresser or wherever he was left.

In the light speed at which such times move, Ironman went missing. Held prisoner by some evil power in some nook, cranny, or crease that no amount of searching could discover, he was left. Invisible for days because of the dark powers that held under the couch, he overcame the evil and appeared again to searching eyes and grasping hands.

But Ironman is missing.

He flew back to New Mexico with sister, mom and dad, and our hearts in tow. So little Ironman sits on the counter-- a pitiful sight-- awaiting reconciliation. Our hearts sit with him awaiting reunion. Our wait is lonely because

Ironman is Missing......................

GrandCos

Frank and Louie and the Hope of Unbelief

2011-09-29T09:21:00.000-07:00

The day after I preach a sermon, I always find the perfect story, illustration, or clarifying point to go with it. It seems to be a little joke between me and God. It could be that I always quit reading one article, magazine, or commentary too soon. It may be God's way of humbling me and keeping me a little off balance. ("Heavenly Father, I really don't need any help staying off balance. I do fine with that on my own.") Anyway, it has been a good week in that I didn't find the better story until three days after the sermon. The better story to parallel the sermon on Mark 9: 14-29 is about Frank and Louie, a cat. Yes, this cat has two names and the accompanying picture explains why. Frank and Louie has two faces. I wonder if he gets 18 lives?

Frank (on the left) and Louie lives (singular verb) in Massachusetts and recently set a record for the oldest living Janus cat. The name comes from the Roman mythological fellow with two faces. One cat with two faces, can that really be? But it is true and has been for Frank and Louie for twelve years. Believe me, I can relate and I believe that the father from Mark 9: 9-29 can also. When asked if he believed that Jesus could heal his demon possessed\ epileptic son his reply was classic: "I believe, help Thou my unbelief!" Like most of us some of the time and some of us all the time, the father believed but his trust wasn't complete, fully orbbed, wholly mature. He knew his son was in a bad way and found someone he thought could help and expressed what we all feel so well. He had hope, he had trust but it was mixed with some fear and doubt. He had what I call the hope of unbelief. I know that hope and unbelief are not suppose to go together. They are oxymororic. In the church we teach and preach that belief helps us to hope; belief ties us to hope whereas unbelief shrouds hope, chokes hope and finally kills it. We leave little room for doubt. In the church we are certain, sure, confident, strong and determined. Except...except when we're not. We're not sure the kids will turn out ok; we're not sure the disease will be cured; we 're not sure the marriage will make it; we not sure the money will hold out; we're not sure God heard our cries. I believe, Help Thou my unbelief. The hope of unbelief is this: that doubt can change: unbelief can give way to belief; doubt can be usurped by faith, fear can be dominated, cast out by love.Thank-you nameless-face-in-the-crowd father of an epileptic child desperately seeking help. We hear you. We feel you. In so many ways, we are you. Believing but not always sure, trusting but seeing doubt clouds on our horizons, knowing God can but also knowing that God doesn't always...Help thou my unbelief. Dr. Bill Self once wrote, "Doubt is like the front porch. All of us go through it before we get inside the house of faith." Now we see as through a glass darkly; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. In the passing of time and the growth in Jesus, the face of doubt fades little by little till it sees no more. So Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll, the trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend, even so it is well with my soul. Don't worry about being two faced like Frank and Louie. Bring both faces to Jesus with all your hopes and all your doubts and surrender them to his care. He knows how to sort them out.

Till We Have Faces, (sorry Mr. Lewis)Cos

Swiss Cheese and the Christians

2011-09-22T12:11:00.000-07:00

I just finished lunch. I made a good sandwich. I think it could have been better. I had provolone cheese which was good but I think Swiss would have added a bit more twang to the sandwich. Good but could have been better.

Maybe its just the crowd I'm around but it appears to me that every one's life has some aspect of it amiss or missing or that could be better. Somethings wrong, out-of-balance, broken, askew, or as my west Texas friend used to say "whomperjawed." Just listen to folks for five or ten minutes and you will hear it. It usually doesn't come across as direct complaint, more of an observation or a lament. If a guy has four kids you can almost bet that one or two of them has a frustrating or hurtful problem. If a person has a high paying job you will hear it is also highly stressful or so time consuming that she can't enjoy the fruit of her labors. A lady may have a great business but senses distance in her marriage. A guy may have a great marriage but finds that the cash flow in his start-up taco truck is depressing. A pitcher may have a great fastball but still have trouble with his change-up (Mr. Ogando?). A pastor may be a great administrator (I've heard they exist) but have trouble getting along with people. You name the person, the career, and the circumstances and sooner of later you will see that the very best ones still have holes in their lives.

In a fallen world it is nearly impossible to get it all together, keep it all together, or remember where you put it if ever you do. Why is that? One reason is that we are a broken people in a broken world. Things don't always work and rarely even look perfect. Yet, in the hands of the right person, even broken pieces are made into a beautiful mosaic. In the skilled hands of some folks, leftover and unmatched material make keepsake quilts. This happens in the craft room and in life.

Another possibility is that the lack of being able to get everything together for very long keeps us mindful of our need for Jesus. Be honest---do you pray as fervently now as you did about finances when you were twenty-eight, had a sick baby, the car insurance was due, and the washing machine was broken? Things broken can keep us humble and thankful. They also remind us that we are all in the same boat. The guy next door may appear to have the world by the tail, but his health is compromised and he's still really lost without Jesus. What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul? That lady in Bible Study tells great stories about her 4.0 student but rarely mentions the absentee husband. The kid can bench press 415, run a 4.5, and still has a 3.4 gpa, and he hopes that his alcoholic mom forgets to come to the games after what happened last season. Life is a contact sport and it can get pretty rough. But since every one of us has something out-of-whack, we probably ought to go easy on each other with a little less judgemental ism, be a lot more encouraging, and be a lot more prayerful.

We are all a bit like Swiss cheese. We all gots holes, but holes and all, we can make life more flavorable. And you know what else? Holes are the places Jesus comes into our lives. For a long time He has been pretty good at taking our hole-y lives and making us wholly His.

...until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ... Eph. 4:14

Holey to Holy,
Cos

Strengthen What Remains

2011-09-08T09:57:00.000-07:00

The tenth anniversary of 9/11 is upon us. The fact that I can write 9/11 and you know what I am referencing speaks in and of itself to a life changing day. To "the greatest generation" you can ask them about Pearl Harbor Day and they will tell you about the events of Dec. 7, 1941. It changed them. It changed the world as 9/11 has done for this generation.

Everyone is writing, speaking, remembering, and commemorating the day on the airwaves, the print media, and now in social media. This is as it should be. I, personally, have not been able to string together one stream of thought to form an article for this medium. My thoughts start in one place and run to another. Frankly, I remember having the same problem ten years ago on 9/11. I couldn't and can't get my mind around this attack. I didn't have a very extensive vocabulary for terrorism, radical Islam, enhanced safety measures and war that was brought to our shores back then. It is still strange today, unfortunately, less strange. But I've pulled together a few of my scattered thoughts on this new reality.

* Evil is real. 9/11 is not a case of normally good people having a bad week or month. Deadly, hateful, destructive evil was loosed on America that day. It has happened before, it will happen again, and is happening today in this world to various individuals, peoples, and nations. The consequences of sin in a fallen world affects every single person on the planet. If we didn't know it before, we know it now--there are dark, sinister, evil forces at work in this world.
*Children born in the last 14 or 15 years have no emotional nor visual memory of 9/11. The few exceptions are the ones who lost loved ones. The kid who was 2 or 5 or not born views 9/11 like I did Pearl Harbor Day or San Jacinto Day. I think this is good. They learn from parents, teachers, and media that something bad happened and they should learn about its history but life went on and they have been able to enjoy it for the most part. Bad, even evil, horrible times can be gotten through and overcome.
*Silence is a viable response to tragedy. Sometimes silence in the face of grief is the first and best response. No words are big enough to cover the kinds of pain 9/11 birthed. In time, silence can envelope it in grace. In time, after the tears have fallen, words begin to form from a place that is bigger than our pain. Ideally, this Place of largeness is the very Presence of God himself and this Greatness of Presence gives rise to hope, courage, nobility, and love. And yet, if words don't come, all these qualities can still be expressed in thoughts and actions.
*When the honest questions of 'why' are asked about people, evil, war, and God, "I don't know" is an honest response. It doesn't clear up all mysteries but we will not get out of this life having cleared up all its mysteries. We live by faith, not by sight the Apostle Paul tells us. The most important things are never seen with physical eyes anyway. Why doesn't God stop.... why doesn't God do more.... why doesn't God.....? I don't always know, but from what I know of Jesus and faith tells me that one day I will.
*There are lessons to be taken away from ground zero and all the "ground zeros" of life. Lessons about evil, good, perseverence, pain, overcoming, courage, faith, forgiveness and redemption are there in the rubble and are taken away in cleaning up the rubble. With these life is then built.
*I try to make 9/11 personal. I was a thousand miles away and knew no one in the Pentagon, Pennsylvania, or the twin towers. It hurt. It caused fear, anger, resentment, doubt, and a hundred other emotions and thoughts. So I read the biographical information of victims on the internet or when they are shown on television. I get to know the soldiers killed in action in Afghanistan or Iraq through the local newspapers or wherever I find their stories. This hurts frankly. But I need this hurt. It keeps 9/11 real. It keeps the wars that 9/11 spawned closer. It keeps prayers more fervent. It instills thankfulness for goodness and the sacrifices made for me and mine. It helps to identify with other human beings hurting and helps keep life sacred. So I watch the ESPN video of the Man in the Red Bandana. It hurts but I am thankful for his bravery. I look deeply as I can into the eyes of Cpl. Roberts' picture on tv when his sacrifice is highlighted and tear up when his funeral procession is shown from the airport to the church. I recite John Dunne's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" and remind myself that ''no man is an island..." The war on terror and the spiritual warfare to which all Christians are called must remain personal.
*We are at war in Afghanistan and Iraq and fighting terrorism on physical, intelligence and financial fronts. We must continue this. We will not win this war by these means. This is a spiritual war and it must be fought and won on our knees. People need salvation and that comes only in a relationship with Jesus. The church must fight by prayer and mission endeavors. Jesus is the hope for our world. The church needs to act like it believes this and live accordingly.
*Keep going forward. Until the final trumpet is sounded and the final word of history is spoken keep moving forward, even at a snail's pace if that is what can be managed but keep going forward. Evil, destruction, pain, sin and death will not have the final word, Jesus does. So keep going until He tells you to stop.

Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your deeds complete in the sight of my God. Revelation 3:2

Cos

Tough New Laws

2011-08-31T14:50:00.000-07:00

September 1 is going to be really hard on a few folks in my family, mainly the dumb cousins and the smart ones. It has come to pass that new laws enacted in the recent Texas legislative session and some leftover ones from past sessions that had to visit the courts first go into effect tomorrow (Sept. 1) Because of the nature of the laws this will prove problematic for some of my extended family, both the crooks and lawyers.

Among them, it has now become lawful for Texas to join their Oklahoma neighbors in noodling. I must confess that I didn't know noodling wasn't legal in Texas. I just thought Texans were smarter than the Oklahoma boys and Alabama girls who noodled a lot. Anyway, I suppose being able to catch fish under the banks of rivers and creeks with your bare hands is progress. Or is could be a fishing expedition by Gov. Perry to lure voters to his side from the south. Time will tell but this may be hard on a few of my cousins. I'll explain later.

Some of the other laws are the pork chopper law which makes it legal to shoot feral hogs from a helicopter. It is now legal to take your gun to work with certain provisions. The highest legal speed has been raised to 85 mph but the roads where its ok aren't designated yet. Strip clubs that sell alcohol must charge a $5 fee (pole tax?) of its patrons. Funeral protests must be finished three hours before the actual funeral or you go to jail. Amber alerts will be used for missing adults. We also have a new concussion law that requires coaches to immediately take their players out of a game or practice if a concussion is suspected.

I can see the problems coming now. Cousin Slim calls our Cousin Mike, a lawyer......
Cousin Mike? This y'here is Cousin Slim. I'm in trouble, I think....
What's wrong Cousin Slim?
I'm in jail.
What did you do? Why are you in jail?
I'm not sure. I thought ever'thang I did was legit and legal like,but this young County Deputy pulls me over and then hauls me off to jail.
Well, the man pulls me over for speeding but I weren't going but 83.
Where were you going 83?
On I 20 'tween Abilene and Weatherford. Ain't the speed limit 85 now?
Not everywhere Cousin. Is speeding the only problem?
No, they say theys going to add a bunch more charges after the CSI folks go over my car.
What other charges, Slim?
Well, Cuz, they say probably kidnapping and murder.
WHAT?!?
Eazee, Cuz. It's all a big mistake. That young sheriff's deputy jumped to some pretty far conclusions when he saw my rifle under my backseat, but it wore locked up and hid and everything.
So why did that bother him?
I guess it was the smell.
What smell?
And maybe the blood.
What Blood?
The smell and blood a'coming from the trunk of my car.
How, what in heaven's ....why, wh....
Eazee, Cuz. It's all explanable. I was driving fast to get back to football practice in Azle. All the coaches in Texas got locked up by the third week of the season for not reportin' concuzuns. So us parents took over coaching. Well, I took a quick trip out to Abilene to shoot sum of them wild pigs running around out there in the Oak and Meskeet trees. We flew up in Cousin Gyro's, our Greek cousin by marriage, helochopper to get a better shot. All legal now, you now. We got some bigguns. One or two might have been on a hog farm but its' hard to see the fence line up in the air. Anyway, it was getting a mite late so we throwd a couple of the oinkers in the back of my caddy's trunk. Barely had room in there with the catfish.
What catfish???
Oh, yeah, I forgot. I stopped off at Cousin Barge's place on the Brazos and we had breakfast early this morning and went noodling for a spell. We each grooped a couple of twenty pounders and the big one, he may have been closer to 30, put a big gash on my wrist, stuck that old barb in my other hand and slapped me in the face with his tail. My eye swole up but its ok. I looked like I'd been in a fight. I meant to stop at that store by the 281 cut off to buy ice but plumb forgot as I was thinking how I was going to tell Doris how that $10 charge got on our American Express from a strip joint last night. I sware, Cuz, I was just there to have a beer with Cousin Wily, I wasn't even lookin at them women but he was broke and I didn't have $10 cash for the pole tax after the beers so I put it on American Express and Doris pays the bills and when she sees that she's gunna have Cousin Terry over here to counsel me again and I can't stand that preacher nosing in my bizness. Anyway, I forgot the ice and by the time I throwed them hogs in there them fish was pretty ripe. But I had to hurry to get to football practice and I figured I still had time since the speed limit was 85.
But how does all that add up to a kidnapping and murder charge?
Well, while all that was going on the police in Throckmorten, that's Bob Lilly's homeplace you know, well they put out an a-dult amber alert for a missing elderly gentleman last seen in a '86 Caddy just like mine. So the deputy pulls me over for speeding, sees me purdy banged up from the fish fight, smells something decomposin' and walks to the back of the car and sees blood coming out the bottom of the trunk and thinks I've done kidnapped the man, had a fight with him, shot him with my rifle, stuck 'em in my trunk, and am trying to get away real fast when all I was trying to do was get back to coach the linebackers and special teams. Next thing I know I'm on the ground and they's impounding my car and calling a CSI team from Ft. Worth to come check it out.
Why didn't they just open the trunk?
Oh, did I forget to tell you that after we noodled a bit we went fishin' the old fashion way Grandaddy taught us, with dynomite. The officer might have seen an extra stick on the backseat and got all scared about a bomb. Can you help me, Cousin...
Click!

Have a safe Labor Day and watch out for those new laws.
Cos

Faces in the Crowd

2011-08-25T14:58:00.000-07:00

They scarely get a nod in scripture but somehow we got their name. There are a number of Jims, Marys, Josephs, Zacks, Erastus, Linus', Demas', and Aris but little else is known. Good guys? A few bad apples? In some cases not even a name is listed but just a description: a jailer, a whore, a beggar, a thief, a businessman, a woman caught, a man forgotten, even a Samaritan. No, not too many ever noticed these folks in their day.

But God did.

Each was just another face in the crowd, the kind you pass by every day in the grocery store, at the gas station, in the mall or at the table next to you in Applebys. Come on, why would you notice them? Better question is why did Jesus? Why did their name or their description get in His book? And if God noticed maybe we should too. Maybe in those faces in the crowd He saw something that drew His attention, His compassion, His dying interest. Maybe in some way He saw you and me and everyone else who thinks they are just a face in a crowd and He noticed. God saw, God noticed, God knew. There was no reason but God in Christ has His own reason. He knew what it was like to be noticed. He knew that from the time He was twelve in the temple confounding rabbis. He knew what it was like to go unnoticed, just asked who knew anything about Him when He as twenty-six and sweaty in the back of a hot carpenter shop. Imagine that, the creator of the world sanding down a stickey door for the Cohens. His own prophet described Him in Isaiah 53 as having no beauty or majesty to attract us to Him, nothing in His apprearance that we should desire Him. Through it all He seemed to know what it was like to get attention for the wrong reasons (Luke 2: 41-51) and to be shunned when He should be noticed (John 6:60-68).

What does He see in your face? Does He see past the smile to a broken heart? Does He trace a line etched deeply into your forehead by stress just like a stylus does to marble? Does He see pain? Despair? Lonliness? Fear? Disappointment? You know what He really sees? He sees what is there. He sees what parents, coaches, teachers, lovers, kids, friends, illnesses, divorce, affairs, jobs, choices and time have put there. He also sees something else---the things that He, and He alone can put on that mug of yours. He sees the hope, the health, the joy, the reunions, and eternity that He can add to those lines and what love and forgiveness can do for tired eyes faded by lights that aren't eternal.

So look around you. See those faces in the crowd at Wal Mart and the game next Friday. Look around some more and see if you can see what He sees. He's betting that you can and that you will respond in some way like He did when He picked your face out of the crowd. Better yet, look in the faces of all those people around you and I'd bet you will see something else. Look closely, beyond the things people try to hide behind. Yeah, there it is... in that little baby, in that old couple helping each other along, in that fifty-seven year old that still feels a spark when he sees his wife, in that little boy, that girl, that teenager with piercings and that twenty-something with twelve tats and four rug rats....yeah, now you see, it's something Holy. He saw it too when He picked your face out of the crowd and decided to love you. What will you do with those faces in the crowd?

Cos

PS: For White Bluff Chapel attenders, the next sermon series will be "Faces in the Crowd" starting Sept 18.

Hello London

2011-08-18T15:35:00.000-07:00

and President Obama and Wall Street and Rick and Gen. Ben and Gen. John and Mr. 401k and Mr T Party and Oprah, and Dr. Oz and Dr. Phil and Dr. Drew and Dr. No and Democrats and Republicans and Dow and Jones and Ricky Bobby and Syria and Somalia and everyone else who doesn't read this article,
     You've all had quite a ride lately. I appreciate all the efforts to fix US. And there is no doubt that you've got plenty of material to work with. Some of your policies and programs might even work for a while. I hope so. I also doubt so.
      Sorry for the negative vibe and thanks for all the efforts but there's a problem: You are all trying to fix problems with political, military, medical, educational, financial and sweet, baby Jesus cultural band-aids that are not cultural, military, medical, political et al in nature. Our world has a spiritual problem but we are just arrogant enough to believe otherwise. So we throw money at the issues, throw the other party at the issues, throw more of everything but repentance at ourselves. You can't fix spiritual problems by any other means than by trusting and obeying the Spirit of God.
     I know, I know... I'm just a country preacher who is very naive about the world and how it really works. The point is well taken but oh, by the way, how is the world doing running itself its own way? Yeah, I know, just give it a little more time, a little more money, a different president, a different congress et cetera, et cetera ad nauseum.
     Listen, London, I am so sorry for all you've experienced a couple of weeks ago. You sounded so confused, concerned and befuddled at the violence of your street riots. You couldn't see the reason and the rhyme for that reaction. Well, one of your own cultural prophets predicted it four years ago. He was a bit taken by the extent of it but not it's occurrence. Birmingham University Dean, James Author, in an interview about his Learning for Life initiative said: "We are talking about a large group of people who have not gained serious qualifications to participate in society. ... these children (Hodge Hill area) were less optimistic about the future, and they didn't feel they belonged to civil society. They were less positive about the virtues---honesty, trustworthiness, courage, justice and others.....They have such a weak base for the values of a civil society, in fact, many of them lack a moral language to discuss moral questions, because they don't have the kinds of traditions such as religion, in order for them to discuss these matters."* Dr. Authur goes on the say that America's kids are probably only twenty years from this place in our society. So my naive encouragement is to hear the words of Jesus: O, London, London, how often I have longed to gather you as a hen gathers its chicks under her wings, but you were not willing. (para. Matt. 23:37)
     Wall Street's woes begin with greed and selfishness. We try to make money on the futures\speculation markets in direct disobedience to Jesus' admonition in the sermon on the mount to "not lay up for yourselves treasure on earth" and the Apostle Paul's teaching in 1 Thess. "to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your hands so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and you will not be dependent on anybody." Our problems seldom lie in what is happening but what a handful of folks think or fear will happen. We feast on fear and will choke on the bones of our bankruptcy, moral and financial. Our national debt and personal debt is drowning us. We print paper to fix one problem and buy on plastic to try and fix another. We are not a self-denying, delay of gratification nation. We stuffed so much in our debt closet that it's about to explode. These are spiritual issues of contentment, honesty, and exploitation of fear for profit. We need the words of another kind of prophet speaking in Isaiah 55. "Why spend money on what is not bread and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me and eat what is good and your soul will delight in the richest of fair. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live.....seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, the the evil man his thoughts....for my thoughts are not your thoughts neither are your ways my ways declares the Lord."
   Yes, yes, my naive rantings continue. Why should any one listen? Why should I even write? This article will not change the egocentric, jaded world of power politics. It's hard to remember the goal of the political process because of the political excess we see. Waste, deficits, pork-barrel bills, special interest lobbies-- a simple minded person such as myself should stay away and keep quiet about these matters. We try to export democracy as the shining light for all nations but keep forgetting that the lamp is lit with noble character and its hard to export that if you don't possess it. My silly mind still hears words of justice, equality, freedom, and community as echos from history lessons and civic textbooks. I was silly enough to believe them I guess. But these virtues are also based in the the very nature and character of God. For it was for freedom that Christ set us free (Gal.5:1) and we are to let ''justice roll down like waters, righteousness like and never failing stream." (Amos 5:24) Can the church make justice and righteousness desirable in the citizens of the nation? If they can't do that as salt and light, then who can? Who will?
      Enough. My mind is tired and my world isn't fixed, but my hope is. The Psalmist declares in 57:7, "My heart is fixed (kjv) O, God, my heart is fixed." Interestingly, when our hearts are fixed on Him we find many things fixed around us. Jesus said he would never leave us nor forsake us. It may get rough in a world that has forgoetten God, but the promise of God is that He will never forget all who trust Him. "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you by my righteous right hand. ( Is. 41:10) So steady my friend, steady. God is on his throne. Let's help each other walk toward it. Follow the Light, follow the Light......
       Pray that in these troubling, upsetting days the steadfast light of Jesus' righteousness will shine brightly through His people.
      The Light of the World is still Jesus.

Cos

The Church with No Cross

2011-08-10T10:45:00.000-07:00

I was in Austin recently to perform by niece's wedding. I was tickled to do it and Austin is always a cool place to visit. This was what some folks refer to as a venue wedding. I think that it's kind of like a destination wedding but not as far away as Costa Rica or Belize or Tahiti. So the wedding party from Dallas boogies down to Austin with friends and relatives arriving at the "venue" from points far and near.

The venue was a cluster of old buildings at a ranch southwest of Austin arranged in the style of an old western town. If you are old enough think, 'Gunsmoke,' if you are young, think 'Cowboys and Aliens' as far as a town setting. The town's main street was rustic with an old barber shop, school house, feed store, saloon, which was, fittingly enough, the groom's quarters and of course, an old church. I felt like I'd walked onto the set for High Noon. I kept looking for Grace Kelly and Gary Cooper to come running around the corner trying to get away from Frank Miller. The young people in the wedding party gave me a very quizzical look when I started singing "do not forsake me oh, my darling, on this our wedding day...." at the rehearsal. They were clueless as I would have been if they started singing something from Lady Googa.

I arrived at the appointed time for the rehearsal, which meant I was forty-five minutes ahead of everyone else. I wandered around and looked in the buildings and then settled in a chair at the back of the old church. It was air conditioned but other than that the owners of the ranch left things pretty well untouched from its original use as a worship center. The church was small and simple by today's standards. It could hold about 125 worshippers. I'm guessing it was 80 to 150 years old. It had oak plank floors that creaked a little in certain places when you walked. It had tongue-in-groove planking for the walls. It had a tiny foyer with a rope to pull the church bell above in the steeple. A vintage upright piano from Steinway and Sons, (London, New York and Boston) stood in the corner ready for gifted hands or five year olds looking for a release of energy. The pews were wooden, extremely upright and comfort was not a concept in their design. It had a platform that was about a foot high and was eight foot square. The alter was a rectangle block about four by five. Everything was simple, functional, purposeful in that old church. It gave a good feel. The vibe was quietium sub gravitas. But something was missing.

There was no cross. There was no pulpit. There was no communion table. There were no symbols of Christianity at all. Yes, it was simply a wedding chapel now. People could bring whatever symbols and decorations into the building now and make the building fit their belief system. I have no quarrel with that. This only makes sense for a retreat, wedding, and party venue that would have clients from many faiths and many backgrounds. Yet as I sat in the back of that old church building I noticed a sense of sadness in my spirit, not so much for the way the little church is used now, as it still occasionally functions as a church and Jesus' name is honored there. My melancholy was for so many churches that are trying to function as a church today yet still have no cross except on the wall. A church without a cross is like an ocean without water, a mountain with no height, a farm with no dirt, or a home with no people. Jesus' words of "take up your cross and follow me'' are strange to hear now days. We preach self-awareness and self-fulfilment but not much do we hear of self-denial. We speak of our churches as successful, inspiring, dynamic, happening, atttractional, friendly, and missional. We desire them to be relational and relative and real. Jesus, Paul, Peter, and John used words like humble, crucified, fruitful, persevering, faithful, self-controlled, and loving. We have plenty of programs in our "western" churches these days, lots of gadgets, a highly motivated and educated clergy, and much fear, disengagement, selfishness, and angst. The calm assurance, the peaceful mind, the stilled heart with the steeled resolve to love, serve, and sacrifice all the while longing for our eternal home are too often missing. Maybe the little church in the wedding venue in southwest Austin held the clue as to why and how: why this is true and how can it change. Jesus said, "anyone who does not take up his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple." (Luke 14:27) Paul's view was "May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world." Galatians 6:14

When I came for the wedding the next day, the chapel had been beautifully decorated. My niece had hung a cross at the front.

Cos

The Relationship Between Prayer and Rain

2011-07-26T12:49:00.000-07:00

                                                     I"ve seen fire and I've seen rain,
                                                        I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
                                                       I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
                                                            But I always thought I'd see you again.
                                                                                                        James Taylor

For all our progress and advancements we are still a very fragile race. The ongoing drought shows that truth very plainly and we who live under a massive dome of high pressure can readily attest. The land, the elderly, the poor, the crops, wild animals, the cattle and several industries are in trouble. The amount of trouble depends on your age, debt, savings, outlook, experience, place in the food chain and whether you are selling a\c units or having to buy one. We try facing the trouble of no rain with busy-ness. We try humor that gets less humorous with the fourth reception of the same e-mail about the heat in Texas. We try to travel out of town or ignore the drought. We try optimism and patience. Still we see the fire and no rain and so, being Christians, we try prayer.

We also turn to science. We are enlightened about the decrease in sun spots which affect the atmosphere and we also now know about 'La Nina,' the Pacific wind current that blows opposite of 'El Ni no.' These things are cyclical and we must be in a dry cycle. Did you ever put your dryer on for sixty minutes when you meant twenty? We can now name the problems and even somewhat predict them but it doesn't change things does it? It's like being sick and finally finding the name of the disease. It doesn't make you better but you can talk intelligently about it. Oh, and being Christian, we pray.

We also try questions. Is a drought the way Mother Nature "rests" the land? Is this a way to let some grasses, bushes, tress, and animals be thinned out to prevent overcrowding? (if it is it's working in my yard) Is this the result of global warming? pollution? gov't mismanagement? nuclear fall-out? democrats or republicans? Will our advance in science help us weather (pun intended) this lack of storms better than folks did in the 30's or 50's? Is this part of the end times? The questions abound and increase with the dust but so far few answers are very satisfying so we ask God another question: may we have some rain?

Really what else can we do? If God is trying to get our attention like He did in the Old Testament then let's listen. If we need to repent as a nation or an individual then let's repent. Don't let the weather decide that, read God's word and listen to His Holy Spirit, and let Him tell you not the clouds. If we have messed up the environment, then let's learn to live simply and cleanly. We need to do that anyway, whether it is wet or dry. If this drought is a cycle to be repeated more or less every 20-30 years then hold on and get ready for the next one. It there are lessons to be learned, then let's learn them, if its trials to be endured then let us endure them. As the old preacher used to say, "when da Lawd sends tribulations, He expects His chillrens to tribulate." As Christians there is nothing in this world that can't befall us including drought, flood, tornado, illness and eventually death. But we never face these alone. A person can learn many things, endure many things, hope many things but only Jesus can restore and guarantee the essential thing--a relationship with Him and an eternal home in heaven, which I choose to believe is sixty nine degrees.

There are many good things in this life above and beyond its hardships. So as Christians, we pray for the lost, we pray for the lonely, the sick, the hungry and we pray for justice. We pray we might be loving, kind, and generous. We pray joyfully and thankfully for all the blessings, we pray without ceasing, and we even pray for rain in times of drought. Because as followers of Christ we know that in His way, in His time, for our good and His glory He hears us and responds.
                                                  won't you look down upon me Jesus,
                                                                   you got to help me make a stand,
                                                                   just got to see me through another day,
                                                                 My body's aching and my time is at hand.
                                                                 I won't make it any other way.
None of us make any other way, James. What does Jesus need to see you through today?

Dust Cos

A Prayer-a for Klaira

2011-07-14T08:40:00.000-07:00

I watch from a distance as I head into the autumn of life to see the experiences of my sons as they approach their summer seasons. Many are similar, some correspond to experiences I had at those times but my eldest son has taken a path I'll never tread. He is now the papa of a baby girl, Klaira Reese, who breathed the pneuma of life for the first time last Saturday evening. I noticed a text on my phone at seven pm Texas time that said they were at the hospital. The text was sent at five thirty. By seven thirty we got the call that Klaira was here and all 7 lbs. 6 oz and 22 inches of her were fine. We were relieved, ecstatic, and a little blue all at once.

We were relieved because early in Melissa's pregnancy they were told some tests showed bad defects and deformities and were told abortion was an option. Abortion would never be an option to Matt and Melissa. The tests were wrong. Later tests didn't show any problems but there were lingering questions way back in the mind so Pam and I were greatly relieved at the good news of health. We were, as any grandparents, absolutely thrilled at her arrival. Thoughts flooded the mind faster than they could be processed. Questions about her looks, sounds, how momma was doing, how big brother was doing, did she have hair, what color was her hair (blond), did she look like Kaden and a dozen more flashed across the mind that the birth had delivered. But we were also a bit sad. When Kaden was born we were there as soon as the "come on" was sounded. Distance, health, local family availability, and other considerations mean we have to wait a bit. We wanted to catch her up in our arms and squeeze, snuggle, nuzzle, caress, kiss, and feel that sweet baby's breath on our own cheeks...but that will have to wait. Waiting is hard. There is still an element that is not yet real about it all to us, but it will be. I guess that's kind of like the second coming in a sense.

Klaira was a bit early, by ten days or so. When she and the Lord decided it was time, she came so quickly that Melissa didn't have time to have her epidural shot so Klaira was delivered naturally. I began to wonder what other surprises Klaira might have in store. What will she like and dislike? Will she like ice cream and chocolate like her daddy? Will she enjoy photos like her mom? How will she feel about fashion or will she be tom-boy? Will she be athletic or musical or artistic? Will she break into a smile like her big brother when he sees MiMi and Grandcos on the computer? Will she be tall or short? Will she be thin like her mom, dad, and MiMi or pudgy like her Grandcos? Will she be stubborn, conforming, rebellious, studious, playful or serious? The questions keep coming, time will reveal answers, and more questions no doubt in the life of Klaira. That is a big part of what life is, isn't it? We ask, we learn, we face mystery and ultimately we trust someone or something. That led me to my second prayer for Klaira after her arrival.

I was up a bit earlier than normal Sunday morning. I wasn't preaching so the sermon didn't dominate my mind from 6 AM on as it usually does. In the quietness of the morning I wanted to pray for Klaira. I turned to the Psalms for their richness of truth and beauty and storehouses of prayers to find the right expressions. I started reading and cobbled together a prayer for Klaira. Some thoughts from Psalm 90,113,121, a few others and then Psalm 139 finished the prayer. It went something like this....

O Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all our generations. You have now added another blessing in this generation. We praise you, O Lord, for the gift of Klaira and I pray that from the rising of the sun each day of her life to the place where it sets, may she always praise your Name above all. Watch over her, Lord, now and throughout her life. You do not sleep nor slumber and you know there will be days of shade and shadows in her life as well as days of sun and brightness. Keep her in your watch in all those days of darkness or light--may she feel your Presence. May she know the freedom of your mercy, the depth of your salvation, the light of your hopes for her and the joy of your love. You will search her and know her as no other can. Hem her in with your will and may her heart always be tuned to sing your praises. You created her and knit her together in Melissa's womb. When evil reports called for her ending before her beginning, your voice was heard above all. May she always hear your Voice above all others. Keep her from the vanity and selfishness so prevalent in our world. May she learn quickly that the world doesn't revolve around her but help her to let her world revolve around You. May she always know your precious thoughts toward her. May she be unable to count them any more that she could count the grains of sand by the sea. Grant her, in your timing, salvation through your Son and may her faith in Him always be strong and her love for Him be seen in deeds of mercy and service. Thank-you for the grace that makes this miracle life. May we all, grandparents, brother, family, and parents be good stewards of this joy, this gift of Klaira. Amen

You may find me occasionally refer to Klaira as Klaira Grace. That was originally going to be her name and that stuck in my head and heart. Family will just have to roll their eyes and give me 'that look' when I call her Klaira Grace. Once you have grace in your heart, it's impossible to get it out.

Cos

That's Church to Me

2011-07-07T08:01:00.000-07:00

Voice 1: Candle's aroma...the Lord's Prayer...reciting the Nicene Creed....that's church to me.....
Voice 2: Anthems and organs, reflective prayers and planting seeds of niceness....that's church to me....
Voice 3: Stained glass windows, the jangle of Mrs Whitt's jewelry on the piano as she played, the creak of
old wooden floors beneath my feet... that's church to me....
Voice 4: Guitars and keyboards, choruses and celebration, extemporaneous prayer, and a screen to see... that's church to me...
Voice 5: Having it all from quiet to loud, from 15th century to last week. Why settle for less than what should be?...now that's church to me!
Voice 6: All good and well as far as it goes but without a system it works not well. Organize it, account for it, dot every "i" and cross every "t" that's what church should be for you as it is for me...
Voice 7: Excuse me? Excuse me?
1,2,3, 4, 5, 6 Who's that? What voice is that we've never heard? Why should we listen and interrupt our words?
Voice 7: Oh, I'm Jesus and was wondering, have any of you ever asked what church is to me?

Leftovers

2011-06-30T10:26:00.000-07:00

People may find this hard to believe but there is always a lot more to a sermon than they hear on Sunday morning. There's a lot of sawdust in the study and also some pieces that didn't fit, that were warped or just weren't included in the final offering because of length, breadth, and often lack of depth. But this week I wanted to share a few leftovers partly because the sermon subject was about pain and suffering and where God is in all that. We never answer those questions completely and my adding a few hundred words to what I said Sunday won't do much. Yet grappling with the thoughts, emotions, scriptures can help, a little if not totally.

Some of the sawdust you didn't hear Sunday was about the various approaches to God and pain and suffering. These approaches come in response to our cries of 'why did this happen?' or 'where are you God in all this mess?' Some of the approaches have large philosophical words or theological words attached to them. I don't find these tags very helpful. Pam has finally been given a diagnosis with her back. The condition is spondylolisthesis. I looked it up. It's a compound Latin word meaning "you're screwed." Big word, not much help. But here are some approaches to the problem of pain and suffering taken by various philosophers\theologians one could call a theodicy. This is the idea of God's benevolence even in the face of evil. It deals with vindication of God in the presence of evil. One approach deals with the intention of God and the fallen world. God didn't intend this world of pain and suffering. He made it perfect. With the freedom He gave mankind in choice, man chose wrongly and introduced the chaos and pain of sin into the world. So the idea is don't blame God, we screwed it up. OK, but can't you fix it God? Beside that little three year old in the children's hospital with cancer...he didn't mess it up, why does he have to suffer? Try this approach on Cain. This approach gives God points for not starting the mess but takes them away by His allowing them to continue and the innocent to suffer.

Another approach added to the previous one is the punitive\consequences\maturation approach. This one often brings in God's sovereignty. He is God and can,by God, do what he wants when He wants about the problems we've caused in his world. That's kinda cold and doesn't fit well with the picture of Jesus we have. Because God has given us this tremendous and fearful gift called freedom of choice when it comes to following Him, then we also face the consequences of those choices. If we chose wrongly, we can expect God to punish us or correct us. We then grow and learn from the mistakes. The problem then comes again to the innocent who suffer because of someone else's choice (drunk driver, rape victim, soldier killed in war politics started), the arbitrariness of disease, the scope and duration of pain and the fact that some folks never seem to mature. Here God is given points for the great gift of freedom and caring enough to correct bad behavior but looses some again because of the severity of some pain and the innocent who suffer.

There are other approaches that deal with the problem of pain and suffering with a space\time continuum approach. Yes, the innocent suffer. Yes, it has gone on for too long (basically all of human history). Yet God is not limited to time and space as we are and he sees the whole of history and time. In this approach what seems like a long time to us is but a moment to Him. And since He made us for more than the moments of life we can take solace that the pain and suffering are very short compared to eternity. A guy once asked God how much is a million dollars to Him. God said it was like a penny. The man then asked how long a million years was to Him. God said it was like a second. So the man asks God, "may I have a penny?" God said, "yes, in a second." God makes a few more points here but they are hollow points. Gun terminology intended. The explosion of pain in our moments can blow our lives apart.

Yeah, I know, its silly to give God points and take them away. That's the point. We are not in position to see the scoreboard very well and are very myopic with what we do see. That's why Sunday the sermon focused on the trust\surrender approach. Read the following scriptures and see them as toe-holds and hand-holds from which we can hang on, hang in, and even climb upward:
II Corinthians 4:7-10;16-18              Psalm 42:9-11             Ephesians 1:3-10
II Peter 3:8-10                                  Romans 8:28-39          Philippians 4:4-8
Revelation 6:10-11                           Ephesians 3:14-21

This did not end the problem. It may cause more questions. But here a a few things I've learned about pain in the life of believers in Christ--some from first hand experience, some from others' experience:
-Pain will come. Period. If you didn't pick it by poor choices, it will pick you.
-Pain will vary in its intensity and duration.
-Pain will never seem fair to you or your loved ones.
-Pain will have to be endured.
-Words often bounce off pain, presence can sit with it better, until the presence soaks in.
-Some pain we choose by bad choices, some we choose in faith and nobility. To not chose the pain would be wrong in many cases.
-Pain can have a purpose, sometimes it is discovered, sometimes not. We can't decide what pain's purpose is for anyone else.
-Pain is endured best in a family and better still in a family of faith.
-Pain will not last forever. It does not get the last word, Jesus does.

Hang in there,
Cos

Rain, Titus, and VBS

2011-06-22T14:27:00.000-07:00

Rain is a delicate subject around these parts, more so a little down south. I published a prayer for rain last week and within five days it rained. I'm not about to take credit for the recent liquid blessings any more than I'll accept blame for the blast furnace heat of previous days and coming days. However, I, we, need to be thankful and show faith in response to God's faithfulness in sending the showers and yet not insolent enough to publish a prayer for rain every time I think we need one. I'd be "rain writing" about every two weeks or so in Texas were that the case and probably disappointed most of the time. None of us can control the weather, in fact there are a lot of things we can't control. So we pray to the One who can and thank-Him when our prayers are answered with a "yes." And when He doesn't answer when and how we want, we ask Him for the strength, endurance, and peace then trust His grace and goodness to provide in His way and His time all it takes to live a life pleasing to Him. You and I will see more drought and we will see more rain. These and other variables we can't control will plague and bless us as we go through life. There is only One in whom there is no shadow of turning who remains the same yesterday, today and forever. In all the variables of life, trust Him.

                                                        _________________________________

I am a highly organized being. I like order in the midst of disorder. I seek precision and shun chaos. Before creation began we are told in Genesis (KJV) that chaos ruled over the deep. All one has to do is look at my desk and see the penchant for order I possess. I have precisely ordered stack of books, notepads, scraps, post-its, calendars and drinking vessels at the ready. Just this past week I went looking for five different items and found three of them in quick order. Any major league batter would kill for that kind of average. My garage is the same way. In the middle are two vehicles. In the thirty-five years of my marriage, when we have been blessed to have a garage, I have never once lost a vehicle in one. The plan is simple and direct: the vehicles go in the middle of the garage, side by side, everything else is to be piled around the interior walls of the garage. This system has worked perfectly. That's why a discovery in Titus (that's a book in the Bible for you Baylor grads) thrilled me this AM. In chapter one, verses five and six, the apostle Paul is helping Titus organize the church. It needed straightening out and some leadership put in place. Going on to read the rest of Titus it is clear Paul thinks these correctives are needed to show God's grace, say "no" to ungodliness, and do good for folks till Jesus appears. (Chapter 2:11-14) For Paul's understanding of God and His church shows a vital relationship of grace and mercy that lives itself out in holiness and service. His church world was not an either\or but a both\and when it comes to doctrine and passion; faith and works; loving devotion and service; working and waiting on Christ's return. All this took time, energy, and organization. Titus is a good book for the unloving, undisciplined, and unprincipled as well as the stuffed shirts, rules saturated, good-works-are-enough folks. In many ways it is a book of divine balance.

      My righteousness may look a little rumpled compared to yours, but I need your organizational skills to put my wacky ideas into working order. You may at some time need my laughter to balance a silly notion that if you looked good, behaved properly, and organized everything, all life would work out. God's grace welcomes us all and then it puts us together in such a way that balance is achieved. In some circles this is also known as peace.

                                              __________________________
Vacation Bible School is great! Our children's minister, Kay Lea, is a great, and I mean a great VBS director. One of the great things she did was get great people to help her. The teachings are great, the rec is great, the snacks are great( no lame Kool Aid and two Hydrox cookies we got when I was a kid in VBS. no wonder kids quit church after growing up). The organization is great. The crafts are great. But the greatest things about VBS is the kids. They thrill my heart. I'm expecting a baby granddaughter in a few weeks and I've been mesmerized by little girls and the way they act, look and interact. I keep thinking: "I'm going to have one of those in my family." Wow. What will I do? I'll stare a lot at first but I'll learn. We had boys so they are a bit of a mystery to me. I can hardly wait.

One kid, a boy, of course, was looking at the pastor's portraits in the main hall of the church. He was really studying mine and even tracing the dates of my pastorship etched in the nameplate below. (Now understand that I "play" a character called Terrible Terry the Tweenager at VBS. He is kid who never grew up living between being a teen and grown up and he loves comic book super heroes. He is kinda like the comic book guy in the Simpsons without the cigarette. He also knows nothing about Jesus and VBS is teaching him). The kid turns around and sees me standing there in my terrible Terry clothes and turns and looks back at the portrait and in utter amazement declares: Terry Cosby is the PASTOR of this Church?!!!? He expressed the sentiments of untold dozens. I love VBS kids.

Comic Book Cos

A Prayer for Rain

2011-06-16T07:48:00.000-07:00

I've collected a few prayers through the years, most of them I highlight in books or stick in a folder somewhere and can never find. I got lucky this week and actually found one I was looking for and wanted to share it with you. I was written, I believe, sometime forty to sixty years ago. From the internal contents and the defunct magazine from which it originally came I believe it came from an era when Texas wasn't as air conditioned or as urban. It was written by a man. There was a horrible drought in Texas in the mid 50's. I don't know if it was from then or not but it would fit. I hope it worked then and would love to see it happen now. But do notice how knowledgeable the author is with the names of God and how specifically picturesque, if not downright forward, he is in his requests. We might do well to put as much thought into our prayers. Enjoy.......

O Lord, in thy mercy, grant us rain and by that we don't mean a shower. We want to go out and watch the lightning rip across the southwest sky in hot blue forks as the fat clouds roll in on us. We want to scramble all over the house, just as the first sheets descend, frantically slamming down the windows.

O Lord of Hosts, we want to look out of the windows and watch the regiments of close-packed raindrops march diagonally down. We want to hear the gurgle of gutters under the eaves, and then the spatter of the downpour.

O God of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, let it come down so hard, let the drops dance so high that the streets and sidewalks seem covered with a 6-inch fog of spatter drops, then let it just keep up for a while, and then begin to taper off and then turn rights around and get a lot worse: swishing, pounding, splattering, pouring, drenching, the thunder coming Crackity-BAM! And the lightning flashing so fast and furious that you can't tell which flash goes with which peel of thunder---so that all the women will get scared and climb on top of the beds and scream at you not to get too close to that window. And then, O jealous God, repeat the whole act about three times and in the middle of the second time we will climb the attic stairs and put a wash tub under that tiny leak in the roof which you don't usually notice in an ordinary rain. After a couple of hours, kinda taper it on down, O Lord, to a good steady rain...not a drizzle, but a business-like one that keeps on until just about dawn and the spits a few drops occasionally during the morning from a gray sky.

Texas is indeed the Promised Land, O Lord, and if it gets a break, it will flow with milk and honey, but we can't live much longer on promises. So in Thine own way and Thine own time, make up Thy mind, O Lord, and we will bow before Thy judgement and praise Thine everlasting name.
Amen (from Farm Show Magazine)

Cos

Aroma

2011-06-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

It had been six months since Phil had died and a year since I had moved from being their pastor when I got Rita's letter. Long distance was a bit expensive then and Al Gore hadn't invented the Internet, so Rita wrote the last pastor she had. She missed Phil badly. "Every night I take one of his shirts from the closet and hold it when I go to bed. I haven't changed his pillowcase either. I can still smell his aftershave so I hang on. The aroma on the shirts is fading and I can't stand it. It is all I have left to hang on to."

It had been four years since our oldest son Matt had left. He'd been working and going to school and wouldn't be coming back except for weekend visits so I began to take over some of the closet and drawer space in his room. But I left an almost empty bottle of Polo Sport aftershave in one drawer. I could still get a mild whiff of it now and then. It caused me to pray to and thank the Lord and remember when Polo Sport was strong in the house.

I have the number 242 in my head. I believe it was the number of paperback books that were in Clay's closet. Some were about the Beatles, some about the Olympics, but most of them were Peanuts by Charles Shultz. You could open Clay's closet and see them. Not many clothes hung there. The shelves had books and the floor was stacked with books. He had started collecting them when we has just old enough to read. About Teenage-ville he took other interests. I would occasionally use them myself for sermon quotes from good ole' Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus and the gang. Some times, after he left for college, I'd just open his closet and breath deeply. It gave forth a musty, gluey, kinda non-sugary sweet smell. To me it was the aroma of a brown eyed boy saving quarters, going to Half Price Books on Northwest Hwy in Dallas to buy books and reading them in the back of the van or on his bed.

I remember being hit by it when I stepped out of the shower. Out the bathroom door to the left, down the hall with another left and right into nirvana in the kitchen. It was Pam baking an apple pie. The whole house had been enveloped with the scent of buttery crust, cinnamon and sugar poured over our neighbor's fresh picked apples. The pie would never greet my lips with a kiss. It was, alas for another but I was okay with that. I think I had already had the best part.

There are sights that can stop us dead in our tracks. There are people for whom we will go out of our way to feel their touch. There are sounds we are trained to listen for from voices of loved ones, the nursery, the phones, and the ubiquitous electronic devices. So ever present are these that they are easier to miss but the smells, oh, the smell will get us every time. They sneak up from behind like a prankster friend ready to jump us. Aroma's can have such a strong link to our souls that heart rates can change, blood pressure can fluctuate, and real feelings are elicited from just the memories that certain smells evoke. One man can walk into a mechanic shop and be taken back to the childhood he loved by the smell of gas and grease. Another can smell the same and grow ill thinking of the pain his father endured from working too hard, too long as the only mechanic in a busy service station.

Some aromas attract and some repel but few are totally neutral for all people. Maybe that's what Paul had in mind in II Corinthians 2:14-16: But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and to those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life.

Imagine that, the fragrance of His knowledge, the aroma of Christ himself! The church is that lingering fragrance of love lost that can be regained. The church is that unmistakable aroma of Someone you love, Someone you miss, Someone you need. The church, you, are that whiff on the Wind of the Spirit that reminds and beckons the lonely, the sad, the hurting, the tired, the longing, the lost to remember where home really is.

Breathe deep, O world, and may the fragrance you find in the church, be the sweet smell of Life.

Cos

Nine Times Out of Then

2011-05-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

I, along with most sane folks, weren't surprised when the world didn't end last Saturday around six pm. The percentage of doomsday prophets who got it right is still zero, or to put it more positively, they are batting 1.000 pct. One day the percentage will go up a little, but nine times out of then it stays the same. I'll admit to some minute disappointment. In some ways I'm ready for the Lord to get on with His new heaven and new earth format. I'm tired of people hurting. I'm tired of caner, Alzheimer's, ALS, and whatever diseases and maladies strike family and friends. I'm tired of war and rumors of war. I'm tired of praying for peace in the middle east. ( I know I'm not suppose to say that so hold the letters) I'm tired of murders, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, gambling, politics, corruption (I know-redundant), world hunger, greed, arthritis and cell phones. I'm really tired of death. But I've read Matthew 24 and 25, Revelation 19 and 20, and II Peter 3. and I know where this corrupt earth thing is headed. A part of me says, "come on Lord, it can't get much worse so just do it."

But just a part of me.

For the most part I was glad the world kept going after Saturday. It means, among other things we keep some good things going with chances for greater things. I still like the way cool air feels on fall and spring mornings. I like the sound of the golf ball hitting the bottom of the cup, though often after six or seven strokes its more relief than joy. I like the way grandson Kaden says "Mimi" and "GrandCos." (he holds the "o" and hisses the "s.") I love to see a good pick-and-roll and the smell and taste of smoked brisket. And these are minor things. In the major categories we humans already have the capabilities to end world hunger, end all manners of self inflicted heart-ache and disease from abuse and bad habits. On the medical front strides are being made to alleviate the pain and death associated with diseases that years ago their diagnoses were considered a death sentence.

But there's another reason I'm glad the world didn't end just yet. Not everyone is ready. It is just a fact and according to the Apostle Peter in II Peter 3: 9, the Lord is holding back, not being slow as it looks in coming back but being patient so people can come to repentance and not perish eternally.

One of these days the Lord will return. It will come like a thief in the night. Jesus said that no one knows the day or the hour, not angels, not the Son but only God the Father. So anyone who says it is going to happen at this time or that is being unbiblical and should be ignored. One day it will happen and what the bible teaches is readiness. We get ready by surrendering our lives by faith to the Lordship of Christ and getting busy doing justice, acts of service, kindness, and love. Peter goes on to say in the afore mentioned chapter that "you ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming." The church is extended time to witness and share the good news that all may have eternal life in Jesus. We've got a lot of work to do, much of it hard but nearly all of it rewarding if you can keep the eternal goal in mind. I"ve got family and friends who frankly aren't ready yet. So hold off Lord, if you can.

Now excuse me, I've got a few sermon notes to write. Then I've got to make a few visits to the sick and unchurched. Then I'm going to get a brisket sandwich, go the putting green, and call Kaden on the cell phone. Look, you get ready your way, I'll get ready mine.

Cos

With Robes Not Torn

2011-05-11T07:56:00.000-07:00

In Matthew 26:65 the high priest, Caiaphas, tore his robes when Jesus affirmed that He was indeed the messiah, the son of the Living God. This is not the first instance of the tearing of one's robe in the face of grief or distress. Israel's kings often did it when confronted with a nation about to defeat them. Young King Josiah did it when he heard the word of the Lord concerning the sinful ways of Judah. Job did it when he was in grief over the loss of his family and seeming absence of God. But Dr. Larry Crabb points out that one group of people, priests, were not to ever tear their robes except in the face of blasphemy. Scriptures in Exodus 28,29 and Leviticus 10 and 21 indicate that priest were not to tear their robes in the face of distress or personal grief but only in the case of blasphemy. Even when Aaron's sons were killed he could not tear his robes in grief lest he too be killed. This is why Paul and Barnabas tore their robes in Acts 14 when the people in Lystra declared them to be gods. Paul, a rabbi, tore his robes to affirm his humanity and grieve the Lystrians blasphemy.

Why the harshness on priests? Do they not grieve as others at the loss of family and friends? Do they not face distressing circumstances and are they not human with the same needs and emotions? Yes, but the priest also had another calling. Once a year one of them would be chosen to go into the Holy of Holies and make atonement for all of Israel. He would sprinkle the blood on the mercy seat for the sins of the people and pray that God would accept their offering as an atonement for sin. The implication is that one who stands in the presence of God should never view any circumstance, no matter how dreadful, costly, distressing, and grievous as hopeless beyond the ability of God to bring salvation and relief. The Apostle Paul put it this way, "we do not grieve as those who have no hope" (I Thess. 4:13).

The implications for the church are especially relevant in the light of so many problems which plague our world. With wars, disease, poverty, wild fires, earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis, drugs, terrorists, job troubles, relationship troubles and brussel sprouts, it is understandable if we went about in distress with our robes figuratively torn because of our grief. I haven't even mentioned the ultimate nemisis, death. But we in the church join others and feel for ourselves the weight of these painful demons and problems loosed in our world. Yet, we are not to tear our robes. Wait, you say, we're not priests. Yes, you are. Eph. 4:11-12 tells us all believers are ministers. Revelation 1:6, 5:10 and 20:6 reminds us that we are indeed a kingdom of priests. And Hebrews 10:19 informs us that all believers can confidently enter into the Most Holy Place, the presence of God, through the blood of Jesus. Therefore, even in the face of horror, disease, and even death we, in essence, do not tear our robes. We greive, we hurt, we cry, we ask why, but never without hope, never without the very presence of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We ared pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecutied, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. (II Cor. 4: 7-10)

As believers, our hearts can ache and break. As believers, our minds can frazzle and our emotions fume but we do so with robes not torn for our robes are robes of righteousness, whole and complete in the salvation of Christ.

Hole-y, wholly, Holy,
Cos

Christian Reactions to OBL's Death

2011-05-05T10:58:00.000-07:00

I have heard people make the connection between Sept, 11, 2001 and May 8, 2011 by saying we will never forget where we were and what we were doing when we heard the news of both events. The first date was met with horror, disbelief, anger, rage, sadness, resolve and grief. The news of OBL's death evoked joy, relief, euphoria, hope (for more peace), and regret that it took so long. All of this led to fist pumping, spontaneous celebrations at ballgames, in taverns, and in the streets. The USA's no. 1 enemy had been destroyed which prompted the impromptu parties.

My own immediate reaction was a shout of "whoopee, we got him!" My next reaction followed on its heals with a more somber question: "should I yelp for joy at the death of a human being, who from all my understanding of God and His word is now in hell for eternity?" I answered my question with polarized clarity: yes and no. "Yes," because a conduit of demonic evil was eliminated. OBL was a mass murderer, a radical religious fanatic with no compassion for any but those that fit his narrow definitions of proper belief and action. He was no friend to any religion but his own brand and was obviously murderously intolerant of any he believed unfit. The world is better off without him. Period.

So why any sympathy or feeling of misgivings at OBL death at all? Actually, there were few for the man himself. A feeling of melancholy did waft over my soul at the whole thought of war and death. God didn't intend for OBL to be the way he was. He made choices. He saw things he didn't like and acted and reacted with evil. His ego got in the way. I have done all these things myself to some degree. OBL obviously had intelligence and leadership capabilities. These qualities were wasted unless you view things from a demonic standpoint of hatred for anyone not like you. The loss of such potential for good is saddening but this was lost long before a bullet brought an end to his life. Ahh, what could have been...

And honestly, I was somewhat repulsed by some of the reaction in America at the news of OBL's death. Understandable to a point, but death and war and the crafts we have honed to win at these are serious. I remember the gut wrenching agony of seeing the dismembered bodies of our servicemen dragged through the streets of Mogadishu, Somalia and the celebrations that were spawned by that horror in the Arab world. I also recall the street dancing and flag burning in radical Islam enclaves after 9-11. Some in the US looked no different, I'm sure, to the Muslim community when those news tapes were shown on their tv's last Monday. I guess I'd like to believe we are different and we don't gloat over death, even the death of evil. We do away with it and move on quietly. Let the SEALs clank a glass in their private remembrance for a job well done with the thanks of a grateful nation. Then they as a team and we as a nation move on to the next assignment. We do this because we know that even though OBL is dead, evil is not. It will have to be faced again.

So what is the next assignment? I have no authority over the SEALS, the nation, or any person to give them one. Let me just tell you some assignments I've made to myself.
One is to be humble in the face of evil, or, when I should prove victorious at some points, in the aftermath of victory. James 4:10 admonishes us to humility and Proverbs 27:21 reminds us that a man is tested by the praise he receives. Spiritual victories are hard fought (see the cross) and possible only by the grace of God--so be humble.
Another assignment is prayer. I need to remain vigilant in prayer for evil is real and present in this world. It affects all of us and even all of nature (Rom 3:23, Rom. 6:23, and Rom. 8:21-22.). I need to pray for the end of evil and the death of death. This only comes by the power of God's grace and love. All other battles against it fought by weapons forged by the hands of man will bring fleeting victories at best. In the recorded history of man, only seven years have passed without some of us in the world fighting with others. So be prayerful for our nation which has lost its way on so many levels. Freedom and justice cannot be secured nor maintained without a connection to righteousness. Pray for justice and freedom for the nations.

Related to prayer is another assignment--be evangelistic. We never know when our sharing with another human being about our faith in Christ might prevent all manners of evil down the road in that person's life. Jesus changes hearts. He transforms lives. He changes people's destiny from hell to heaven. Walking with Jesus in a relationship of faith brings peace, joy, and hope to a person's life for now and forever more. Did OBL ever hear the real salvation story of Jesus? Did he ever really see Jesus or just another religion that he didn't like that he viewed as one needing to be eradicated for his to succeed? I don't know but I do know Jesus still saves. Pray and witness to the lost. You may prevent an Columbine, a 911, a divorce, a murder, a suicide or an empty life by sharing Jesus with another soul. We may not ever know now, but someday we will.

The last assignment I'll share today is this: be grateful. Be grateful that God sent His son to offer eternal life to those who trust in Him. Be grateful that God changes lives. Be grateful for His grace and truth. Be grateful for freedoms won and freedoms held. Be grateful to men and women who fight for us, pray for us, share Christ's truth with us and model grace and freedom for us. And be grateful that in the end, the living and true God revealed in Jesus-wins.

Cos

Losing Words

2011-04-20T14:05:00.000-07:00

A odd truth reveals itself every year about this time, it seems that the task for writing something meaningful about Easter grows larger and larger. It is not the bare facts of the Cross\Resurrection events or the baseline meaning of them that is hard. It's not a lessening of the appreciation for and the joy which continue to grow at the thought of Jesus' resurrection.  But as I grow older and become more aware of my own sin and the enormity of the sacrifice Jesus took to save me from myself and the world from itself, then the meaning behind the facts of Easter leave me more and more speechless. I can say the same for the Incarnation, for that matter. Consider that God- Holy, Creator, and Ruler of the Universe loves His creation to the point of sacrifice; withholds judgment to the point of absurdity in hope of eliciting a loving response, and opens His greatest treasure (knowing Him deeply) to former rebels who can by faith, become lovers of Him and His Kingdom- Remarkable! How do mere words from a finite creature begin to capture one scintilla of the love and grace of God?!?

They can't. And the truth is I seem to be losing words even while the appreciation grows deeper. In writing about Easter one tries to explain the unimaginable, come to grips with the unfathomable, understand the infinite and communicate it all with words and sentences that are all too ordinary. The longer I am a Christian and the longer I contemplate what Christ has done the bigger Easter grows. It doesn't become something that grows smaller and more understandable with time and study and living. Jesus' awe, beauty, wonder and sacrificial love only multiply. Words fail me.

Another problem encountered in seeking out the Unsearchable is the frame of reference. We have never lived in a world that hasn't known resurrection power. We have ignored it, misused it, and abused it but we have never lived in a world that hasn't had someone, somewhere proclaiming that Jesus lived, died for mankind's sin, and rose from the grace defeating death. You and I can't imagine a world without hope. We have all faced or known situations and circumstance that gave no hope for that slice of time. Maybe it was hunger in Somalia, fires in west Texas, tornadoes in the south, war in the middle east, bears on Wall Street, shootings on the border, war, job loss, cancer or a thousand other evils in this broken world that took away hope for that moment in time.  But even in the most horrific circumstances that focus our fear on the hands of the clock in front of us, we have always, since the resurrection, had nailed scarred hands pointing us toward eternity . John Lennon wrote, "... imagine there no heaven...it's easy if you try..." No, John, I'm sorry, but for the Christian that fluffy sentiment has become impossible. Everything we are, have and hope for is framed with eternity. A well know lady with very agnostic views was once heard by a magazine editor to have uttered these two phrases while their airliner encountered engine trouble: "Oh, God, please, no!"and later when the plane landed safely, "thank-God!" When the editor asked her about those utterances later she said it meant nothing, they were just expressions. Some expressions. The cross and the resurrection are also just expressions: the expressions of a loving God who reaches from heaven into the temporal by means of the incarnation to give a glimpse of and a taste of His eternity. That glimpse and that taste give us a hunger for Him and His life. That is hope. The cross\resurrection give us the promise that hope will be realized. Imaginations fail me.

Words fail me. Imagination fails me. The resurrections declares that Christ doesn't fail me. The hope and the promise live because He does. Maybe a fitting epitaph for folks trying to capture Easter in words and utterly failing could be this:

                       Lost my words in His wounds,
                      Lost my wounds in His Word.

To the day we find our voices in the King's song,
Cos

i

2011-04-05T11:51:00.000-07:00

According to the eminent scholars, 3 Dog Night, one is the loneliest number. So what's the loneliest letter? I submit for your consideration the letter "i."

Although I must admit that at first glance "i" seems to be doing just fine these days. It has had a huge surge in the electronics sector with the advent of iphone, itouch, and ipads. You can hardly call yourself connected without an "i" something and those of us who don't have an "i" something are always feeling inferior to those who do. That in itself puts focus back on "i." And truthfully, "i" has always done well in the entertainment industry. With the exponential growth of sports stars, reality shows stars, and individuals who are famous for no talent at all, they are just famous, "i" has never been bigger. So how in the world can I claim that "i" is the loneliest letter when it is flying all over the universe with the speed of jets, film, emails, sound, and light. Well, that is my point: it flies but never seems to land, put down roots, and grow into a good solid "we."

I remember a few years ago walking on the University of Texas' campus with one of the directors of a Christian ministry with a headquarters across the street from the old student union. I loved the vibe of the campus. He showed me the bowling lanes, the bookstore (it was a short cut from his office to go through that building), and the commons area outside the Tower. Young people of every shape, color, size and personality were sitting and flitting and talking everywhere. We walked along and he asked me to notice what all these different people had in common. "They hate Aggies?" I pondered. Beside that he engaged. I looked again and I think I saw what he was talking about. In five minutes we must have encountered what seemed like a couple of thousand kids. I looked at hundreds of them for several seconds each. No one ever made eye contact with me unless they were inviting me to something or advertising something for their organization. A huge percentage of them were on cell phones, listening to mp3 players or engaged with a laptop. Jimmy told me, ''these kids are the most connected generation in the history of the world, and the most lonely." I looked again and my heart just broke. They can google, tweet, im, text, and facebook with thousands across the planet but they have yet , in so many cases, to learn what it means to have true connection with God and one another.

We are wired, spiritually, not electronically to connect with God and one another. It seems we try to connect with any and everyone else first and end up isolated and alone way too much of the time in our culture. With all the screens we view daily isn't is ironic that we have actually "screened" off one another? The screens are just modern ways we use to keep some distance between us. We fear spiritually intimacy and substitute electronic connectedness. It turns out that our biggest fear, that of knowing and being truly known, is also our greatest need. And the word of God is replete with His admonition to "fear not" and His assurance that He already knows us and loves us completely anyway.

What do we do in a well-connected yet disconnected, lonely, isolated world filled with busy people all around us? We offer the power that the church has had for years: communion. No, not just the wine and bread every week or month (although that might be a good place to start), but the union we have with Christ. This union we have with Him by faith; this union we have in His word and in prayer; this is lived out in the co-union, the com-union we have with one another. So we worship together and invite those around us to join us. We pray together and ask those lost, hurting and lonely around us if we might pray for them. We serve together in a dozen different ways but always with an eye to those around us who are needing a place to serve but haven't found satisfaction in merely serving "i." We do what Jesus told us to do: love one another even as I have love you.

Then watch what He does. A barrier will come down. A friendship will be made. A phone will be turned off and eye contact made. A conversation about real issues will take place over a cup of coffee. Even a tweet might ask a real question about what you know about Jesus. A lost person will come to faith in Christ. A church will be renewed in loving fellowship. And eyes that could not come off a screen will behold the glory of God in the faces of the people of God and "i" as the loneliest letter will lose its place.

Turn your "i's" upon Jesus,

Cos

The Hard Part of Lent

2011-03-24T06:43:00.000-07:00

What's the hardest part of Lent? Some would say getting started, especially if they are of a persuasion that gives up something they really enjoy, like chocolate, golf, or March madness basketball. But that is also why the meaning of Lent sometimes is lost on us since we get to pick what we give up in order to concentrate on a higher calling and remember the sacrifice Christ made. We usually pick an "add-on" to our lives rather than essential parts to "give up" for Lent. If we are not careful, God Himself can become an "add-on" rather than the Center and Life itself. Others may claim that the end of Lent is the hardest. It has been six weeks since the beginning and if you are planning on going back to eating, using, and enjoying some part of your life that you put on hold for six weeks the last few days can be agonizing. For those, the thought of ______ can overwhelm the senses and the imagination and thoughts of Jesus and His agony fall victim to our own, which is in itself a pretty good teaching point itself. But for many, if not most, the middle days of Lent are the hardest. You are half-way but not quite. The routine sameness has taken hold and meaning can easily be lost in the mundane. This is seen in the worship routine, the marriage routine, and the work routine. Humans long for stimulation of mind, body, and soul. The dreaded middle is a part of any relationship or system or calendar when the beginning can hardly be remembered and the end can't been seen. This is why some worshippers fall away after reaching the middle and the excitement of conversion has been replaced with a call to steadily walk in quiet submission with Jesus. That's why many marriages break up in the middle. The partners call it an end and find a more exciting beginning with someone else only to find in a few years they are right back in the middle again. In the case of Lent everyone arrives at the half way point at the same so there are no pilgrims coming back to say the end is up ahead and it's worth the journey. There are no stragglers to whom those farther along might call back words of encouragement. All are on the same journey and at the same place: the middle of Lent. But some of the greatest lessons occur during the middle. What is true in Lent is true in life. There are experiences and lessons that one can actually recall that got you to this point. The maturity of the middle and the journey to this point helps us to imagine joys at the end and remember that there is an end. Though not unique to Christianity, Christianity has more nearly perfected the art of remembering what hasn't yet happened. This "memory" encourages the middle pilgrim. The Bible calls these promises, and Jesus to Paul to Peter to John recommended their usage. So look around you. People all over are in the middle of something. They are in the middle of an argument; the middle of treatment; the middle of a project; the middle of a book; the middle of the week. It's just as far back as it is forward, so you might as well go forward, that's where the fulfillment of the promise is found. So weak by weak (there's no misspelling there) we muddle along through the middle. There's no false bravado about the middle being the best. The best in Christ is truly yet to come. But there is also no despair needed in our being about half way through anything for when you look really well you find Jesus right in the middle with us. Hopefully He finds us right in the middle of His will. And that is always a good place......... Cos

The Lent Ness Monster

2011-03-16T07:53:00.001-07:00

The legend of the Loch Ness Monster dates back at least to the seventh century. The tales of a prehistoric creature inhabiting Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands was popularized in 1933 with sightings that purportedly came from honest, upstanding individuals. The story was subsequently published in London. Whether true or hoax, publicity stunt, or a practical joke that got away from someone, the legend persists. The old gal even has a nickname, Nessie. Some say Nessie is alive, some give "proof" that Nessie existed but has died within the last 20 years, others say it was all just a good story. What do you say? We seem to treat Lent a lot like the Loch Ness Monster. Some say it does exist and look intently for truth and meaning in a period of reflection during its six weeks. Others say Lent served its purpose but really died years ago except as a quaint remembrance of simpler days gone by. A few may say Lent was a good story but finds little or no basis in Scripture. What do you say? There are indeed some monsters that can chew up people and even their faith associated with the church. These were not only in her past but persist in modern forms that need to become extinct or at least be relegated to ancient folklore and not allowed to feast on the unsuspecting lambs within the church or the society around the church that expected something different but got the same wolves in religious clothing. Jesus fought these spiritual monsters who used the Pharisee's legalism to do their bidding. The early church fought these monsters of racial and class divisions, rituals, traditions, and often forms of heresy about who Jesus is and how He relates to humanity. Our modern monsters are no less real but appear sometimes subtle and sometimes blatant in their disregard for grace, mercy and the love of God. I'd nominate a few to be aware of that might me hiding in the lochs of our own lives. One is the dual-headed monster of Mean-ness and Control-ness. These shouldn't be named in the church but they are there. They always have been, maybe they always will be, but do they have to be named in me or you? So many things in this fallen world we have little or no control over but in our lives we can slay these fiery dragons of needing to control everyone and every situation. And when we don't get our way, we don't have to be mean about it. No, this monster probably doesn't rate with the debate concerning the hypostatic union of Christ but it shows up in living rooms, bedrooms, and meeting rooms in homes and churches. I hope it becomes extinct. Let's fight it with humble submission to the sovereign Lordship of Jesus in every aspect of our lives. Another "Nessie" is modern at least in form. There is a "Princess-ness" run amok in the daughters of the American church. We need solid doses of Corrie ten Boom, Joni Erikson-Tada, Tillie Bergin, Susanna Wesley and Lottie Moon applied to the Pink Culture. Who are little girl's heroines? Sarah, Abe's wife? How about Naomi or Ruth? Mary or Martha? Priscilla perhaps? Rahab was cool but kinda hard to explain but surely Jesus' mother Mary could offer a few lessons on trust and obedience. Disney gave us Cinderella and Snow White. Even the greater society knows something is amiss. (see Peggy Orenstein's Cinderella Ate My Daughter, HaperCollins) What does the church have to say to this movement away from sacrifice and servanthood? What do you and I say? (I know, the letters are coming.............) Equal time please? Ok, who is addressing the "Disingaged -Ness" of the American male in spiritual matters. I realize our churches are filled with men trying to worship, serve and do the right thing. But over and over I read and often see men, good men, who are disengaged spiritually, especially with their mates, families, and each other. When is the last time you had a good spiritual discussion with another guy? Don't get me wrong, servanthood is spiritual. Doing things, fixing things, building things is spiritual. No false dichotomies please between material and spiritual. But come on guys: prayed with another guy lately? Your wives? Your kids? Have you even for a few minutes confessed a sin, wondered about God's working in your life, shared a verse of encouragement to a family member or another Christian male? Did you feel as uncomfortable reading this paragraph as I did writing it? What do you say? Start easy if you need to. Ask a trusted friend to pray about something for you. In a month or two, ask him to pray with you about it. Join a bible study. In a month, ask a question. Get engaged. One more and I'll quit. Has the monster of "Same-ness with the World-ness" been seen in your neighborhood? This one is sneaky. He manages very slippery slopes yet when I spot him and try to attack him, I fall down those very slopes on which he lopes. If you tell me I eat too many twinkies, I may want to tell you you drink too much beer. We may both be right but we let things slide lest we start falling down the slippery slope of judgementalism. If I tell you Christians shouldn't watch dirty movies and then you hear me quote from "Saving Private Ryan" in a Memorial Day sermon and call me on my R rated patriotism, I start having to make exceptions and down the slippery slope I go. So "Same-ness with the World-ness" goes on unchecked and we wonder why more of our culture doesn't want to follow our Savior. Tell me, who do you respect enough to let them tell you "no," that's not good for you or society or your walk with Jesus? Have you had it with my monsters ball? Did I make all these up or have you seen them yourselves? Maybe these are all just minor myths or visions produced by an overactive, twinkie induced imagination. Or possibly we need more Lent-ness monsters: contemplative-ness on the truths of scripture, open-ness to the possibility of a greater life of faith, repentence from the sinful-ness in our own hearts, a deeper devoted-ness to Christ that the Lenten season is intended to encourage in our lives to help us face the other "Nesses" we may encounter. What do you say? Cos-ness

An Assault on Lent

2011-03-08T11:44:00.000-08:00

Finding time for Lent is complicated. You first have to find Easter and back off seven Wednesdays or about forty days. That part makes sense, forty being such a good Biblical number. You've got that business with the rain at Noah's time, Moses on the mountain getting the ten commandments, the spies in Canaan for forty days, the desert wanderings- 40 years, Jesus' temptations in the desert 40 days, and the period after the resurrection to the ascension was 40 days. So forty must be pretty cool in God's eyes. Of course, that's only part of finding time for lent. You must also fix Easter's date first, which falls the first Sunday after the first full moon of the vernal equinox which can vary astronomically and thus the Eastern Orthodox and the Western Orthodox churches can be different from one another. I usually just look on the calendar. I guess the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD set Easter and folks thought a good running start on Easter would be 40 days prior. Anyway, Lent is here. I feel kinda sorry for Lent. I grew up in a church tradition that didn't observe Lent. The last six or eight years the churches I was in took note about its meaning even if they didn't impose the ashes. But whether you observed all or part of the Lenten season and knew all or nothing about its practices, Lent has a hard time of it. Lent is to be a time of quiet reflection, serious thought on the Passion of Christ and our heart for following our Lord. Disciplines of quiet, solitude, contemplative prayer don't fit well into our schedules. If things are too quiet, we turn on the mp3 or radio or television. If we are alone too long we get antsy, and wonder if something is wrong with us. When left to ourselves to meditate and contemplate we think about ourselves and our problems. We're tough on Lent. So many things seem to work against it. Recently it was noted that checking emails or checking Facebook before bed sends a message to our brains that shuts off melatonin production. If you do these activities before bedtime you will have a harder time going to sleep since melatonin is what helps us fall asleep. Much of the noise, clutter, electronics, stress, and diets with which we bombard our lives ends up increasing stress and short circuits our ability to relax, think, and reflect. Maybe we find a clue to observing Lent in the very things that make observing Lent difficult. If noise, clutter, busy-ness, quick living and the relentless observance of time keep you from Lent, then start there. Turn the cell phone off thirty minutes. Don't text for one hour per day. If you are afraid to be alone and are frightened by silence, then find a quiet, solitary place and invite only Jesus to come there with you. Face the demons that keep you from following hard after Christ and expel them, at least for a few moments to start. How can we move to repentance to reception to intimacy with Christ to wholeness in Christ with the barnacles of a dying world hanging on our souls? Unplug. Its a beginning-and that really is where all things start-- be it the journey of 40 days or an eternity. ( next week: what to give up for Lent--I may surprise you) Cos

Random Thoughts on What Church Newsletter Should Contain

2011-03-03T07:43:00.000-08:00

--Pastor and former trustee president George the 1st were caught spreading mulch last week. Unfortunately it was spread from Rob Tennison's drive way into the back of Pastor Cosby's pick-up while it was still in the bag. Pastor Cosby acted as the getaway driver. George the 1st said it didn't look like Tennison was using it. The pastor's wife made him return it. Rob, a Shakespeare scholar, said it was "mulch a-do about nothing." --Executive Assistant (title used to be secretary but since we didn't give her a raise we changed her title) Glenna has plans to travel some over the upcoming spring break. She and Danny are going to see Uncle Al in Albuquerque, Aunt Ginger in Denver, cousin Maud in Claude, and the Tines in Turpin, OK. Well, sure, everyone knows the Turpin Tines. --As our church begins the process of finding a new minister of music we accidentally found ourselves having something in common with Italian opera lore. They have the three tenors, we have the three interims, Tom, Dwayne, and John. One of their first moves, in light of the recent attack on member's hearts, knees, prostates, lungs, hips, backs, and other body parts that has folks from chapel receiving treatment from Houston to Dallas to Cleburne to Arlington to Ft. Worth to Waco to Whitney is to adopt a new church theme song. The new church song the three interims desire all to learn by memory (in case of cataracts) is "Is There a Balm in Gilead?" You want to read a couple of books that might wind your clock? Then try Radical by David Platt or Crazy Love by Francis Chan. Radical might have been called normal Christian thinking two generations ago. It's not all that radical in concept but points out the western church's radical departure in many areas from belief to practice. Francis Chan's book was harder for me. It was tough toned but maybe I needed to hear what he had to say. Maybe you do to. I was glad to know that these young pastor's have to courage to talk tough principles to their principally young audiences. Mindsets, habits, entertainment, selfishness, spending, and devotion are called into question in these books with a view toward moving the church deeper in love and response to Jesus and away from materialism and lack of Biblical convictions. I'm not saying I enjoyed these books but I'm glad I read them. Try them yourself. Along those lines here is a quote from G. K. Chesterton... well first let me tell you a bit about Chesterton. he was an English writer, poet and professor. He was born about 1874 and lived until just before WWII. He was a big man with a bigger wit. He loved to laugh and was unorganized but brilliant. In America you may know him from the Father Brown detective series of books which were later made into a tv movies. He had some influence on someone you know better C S Lewis. Now for the quote: "Tolerance is the virtue of the man without conviction." Chesterton might not be tolerated in our post-modern, post Christian world where all truth is relative, where the supreme good is my enjoyment, and the spiritual gives way to the flesh. If we're not careful the church in America may start tolerating sexual sins, gay marriage, gambling, and spending more on fertilizer for our yards than we do on missions and evangelism. Nah, that will never happen. Would it? Anyway, read more Chesterton and Jesus who said, where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Cos

Pellets, Power and Pony Tails

2011-02-08T11:47:00.000-08:00

Brennan Manning in his Ragamuffin Gospel recounts a story about the old Rabbi Abraham Heschel. Heschel speaks from his weakness after a heart attack, "Sam, never once in my life did I ask God for success or wisdom or power or fame. I asked for wonder, and he gave it to me." Manning goes on to say "a Philistine will stand before a Claude Monet painting and pick his nose; a person filled with wonder will stand there fighting back the tears." The paragraph caught me up short: do I notice the wonder of God around me? Have I gotten so busy with living life that there is little life in my living? So I paused and said a prayer myself: "God, I've asked for everything Heschel didn't ask for and didn't get the measure I was expecting, which has been a good thing mostly. I too often failed to live life with a sense a of wonder. Would you please grant this to me, at least in ways I might see it and thank You for it?" So here are a few things that have captured my imagination, my sense of wonder, curiosity, and at times even awe. They are no doubt small things and I hope to see greater wonders but maybe being able to see a few wonders in small things is a wonder itself. Pam and I were leaving Sonic after a night on the town, especially a night when the burgers are half price, when I saw her. "She" is not the right term, for I never actually saw the girl. But "she" was riding in the pick-up in front of us sitting close to her boyfriend when "it" caught my eye. Her pony tail was swishing back and forth with every look to her boyfriend and every turn and bump of the truck. It fascinated me, but honestly, and you will just have to believe me here, not in a lecherous sort of way but more of a life affirming sort of way. The pony tail was oblivious to leading economic factors, who was favored for the Super Bowl or the Oscars, or how the latest legislative agendas were progressing in Austin or Washington. It seemed to have a life of it's own as it kept its almost metronomic rhythm whether she was turning to her friend or going straight down the rode. I thought the dear girl has no idea what a good time she is having. She, because she is human, has cares and worries but the pony tail told a different story from everything else in life at that moment. Independence, life, joy, spontaneity bounded along at thirty miles an hour and it tickled me like a grandchild's laugh. I enjoyed the 30 second show and I wondered how many other things around us have their own rhythm that display freedom, joy, and life but I miss them in my trying too hard to find them?' Another "wonder-full" moment occurred when the Super bowl storm of 2011 hit. I looked out into the back yard after the storm hit and saw them. There they were dancing, bouncing, rolling and blowing: snow pellets. They weren't snow flakes, they weren't hail, they weren't sleet but snow pellets. I went out to play. I rolled them on my fingers. I squished them with my thumb. I caught them on my tongue. I scooped a handful and threw them into the air again to watch them fall and bounce off the sidewalk. It looked like the Dippin' Dots ice cream cart had overturned in the mall. How could they be so symmetrical? How did they get so perfectly round? How did these soft pellets not flatten when they hit the ground? 'How' gave way to "how long" and in a few minutes the pellets were changed. Did the temperature one hundred yards in the air change a half of a degree so that pellets no longer formed? Did the humidity change two percent and turn pellets into flakes? There are scientific and meteorological reasons for snow pellets to form but the reasons don't replace the wonder that in the right conditions 372 snowflakes got together and said "let's snuggle" and rolled themselves into a ball. Nature is dazzling in its beauty and variety even when you know the "reason." Reason doesn't replace wonder, in fact, it can enhance it when you realize that the reasons aren't always going to be perfect to form snow pellets. So every once in a while the reasons come together and the wonder of snow pellets dance, bounce, and roll through you own yard and 56 year old cynics turn playful. Maybe that's the real wonder. The stadium alone costs over a billion dollars. The preparations for the super bowl, the advertisements, the security, the entertainment, the food, the hotels, and a thousand other details probably added up to another billion dollars or at least in the tens of millions. Man power, Wall street power, electric power, Madison Ave. power, Hollywood power, celebrity power, you name the power it was focused on Cowboys stadium for the Super Bowl game. Then a half-inch of ice and temps in the teens turn the billion dollar dream into a nightmare. There are some "powers" even the NFL and Jerry Jones can't control. In the early scientific days it was believed that there existed four elements: wind, fire, earth, and water. The Super Bowl storm organization didn't invite 'fire' and the combination of the other three was devastating to man-made systems everywhere. To humanity that values its own omnipotence the reminder of stronger powers was a wonder to behold. "We are masters of our own destiny!" Tell that to the ice. God of Wonders beyond our galaxy, You are Holy, Holy. The universe declares your Majesty; Your are Holy, Holy. Lord of Heaven and Earth; Lord of Heaven and Earth. Chris Tomlin Still Being Wowed, Cos

Life in the Shadows

2011-01-25T12:53:00.000-08:00

The hors d'oeuvers on the tray were having a grand time at the party. The string quartet was playing beautiful music. The champagne was France's finest. With 'ahhs' and 'oohs' another tray was set on the beautiful table. It was exquisitely graced with Russian caviar and shaved truffles from Spain. All the guests seemed to gravitate at once to the new offerings. At that point the pate' turns to the stuffed olive and asks, "what am I, chopped liver?" It may be that you've felt that way at one point or another in your life. It seems that you have had to live in the shadow of greater lights. The smarter brother, the prettier sister, the needier aunt, the demanding parent, were always in your life and always called the light to themselves. Once out of the childhood home it often continues for some folks. Next the outgoing roommate, the creative lab partner, the faster football teammate and the kid with the good hair puts you back again in the shadows. Surely life in the working world would work out better. Ofttimes it does but other times the boss likes that guy's work better, the boss likes that lady's smile better, or there's a genius in the next cubicle but he's not there for long because he gets the promotion. Surely home is a respite. But it turns out that your publicly adored spouse gets the limelight and you're in the kitchen cutting the limes for the margaritas for her parties. More shadows. Sometimes, in truth, those folks probably earned it or deserved it, other times they or life's fickle circumstances simply stole your thunder. Either way you were left in the shadow of another and that part of life is not much fun. If you ever felt that way let me tell you, you've got company. Not surprisingly, you will find company in the Bible. Might these in scripture who spend life in the shadow of others give us some insight as to how we should react when we are out of the spotlight? Where can we find these biblical examples of how to handle the second chair in life's orchestra? There are several places really. I'll name a few and you can then see the pattern and find other examples yourselves. Here's the first one: John 3:17-18. Now these are good verses. When you read them you will recognize them but only a handful of folks ever memorized them. It's always John 3:16 that gets the glory and all the attention. It's the first Bible verse folks memorize and the one folks carry with them that they can peal off at a moment's notice. Not 3:17 or 18 or even 3:15, but 3:16 is the attention getter in this group. It doesn't seem fair to John 3:17-18 but that is just the way it is. Shoot, when John, the man, wrote John, the gospel, he didn't even designate the chapter and verses. Cardinal Caro added his around 1244-1248 and the Archbishop of Canterbury Stephen Langton, started a versed Bible in 1227. I'll let the Catholics and Anglicans figure that one out (although I am partial to the Cardinal's syrup). All I know is that John 3:17-18 never stood a chance of being famous after that. Let me give you another example: take the case of Romans 8:27. Now there's a heck of a good verse but everyone hones in on Rom. 8:28-29. But who could blame them, after all it is terribly reassuring to know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to his purpose. But poor old 27 only tells us that the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. That's good stuff but hardly 28-29 material. Consider the plight of poor old Psalm 24. His may be the worst of the bunch. Handel certainly recognized 24's beauty and depth but you never hear folks asking for Psalm 24 to be read at a funeral. It's a shame, but 24 just got himself stuck by 23. What can you do? One of my favorites is Ephesians 2:7 which says, " in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of this grace expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus." What a marvelous thought that God is sharing incomparable riches of grace expressed through kindness to us in our relationship with Jesus. But I guarantee you that if you go into a Christian bookstore and buy one of those little kits of flash cards to help you memorize scripture, you won't find Eph. 2:7 but you will find Eph. 2:8-9: "for it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that on one can boast." It's hard to disagree with putting that one in isn't it, but I can't but feel a little sorry for Eph. 2:7. It has to feel a bit like it must like to stand next to the next Miss America when she is called out and you don't even make the finals. I feel a bit sad for these verses having to "live" in the shadow of more well known verses. But notice how they handle it. I've never heard one complain. They stand and deliver the truth that has been given them and serve where they are planted. No complaints or requests for transfers have ever been noted from these verses. They soldier on in the shadows. Maybe they know something we tend to forget in a self-absorbed culture: if they are in the shadows then there must be a great Light somewhere. I'd bet they know that one day we will all be in the Light as He is in the light for He is Light. They know that "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, with whom there is no shadow of turning"(James 1:17). Maybe good old Rom 8:27 simply rests in the truth of 8:28-9. One day you may be asked to come from the shadows and shine your light for the glory of God. Pray you are not tarnished by the cares of the world to the point that the light can't shine. In the meantime, and the times are mean, practice the truth from one of the first songs you memorized, probably even before John 3:16: this little light of mine, I'm gonna let shine, let shine, let it shine, let it shine. One day it will, and even this day a little light goes a long way. Keep polished, Cos

What's Your Sign?

2011-01-17T12:17:00.001-08:00

Apparently, the addition for a new, thirteenth Zodiac sign has rocked some people's world. Some have embraced the idea as the only proper thing to do in an ever expanding universe with new stars and new galaxies being discovered regularly. Other folk have vociferously railed against it as needless and senseless. Guess which group has to change charts? I've always believed that Zodiac\astrology was a bunch of Taurus. Astronomy as a science is wonderful, fascinating and provides great truths on many levels from positioning, travel, earth dating, mathemathics and other disciplines. Astrology is a game, a hoax, a grasp and a sadness. More on that later. But since it has occupied the news and is a part of the culture, albeit a silly part, I felt I should learn a little about this new sign of the Zodiac named Ophiuchus (pronounced: off ee cuss). Interestingly enough, Ophiuchus is only one of two signs named after a real person. It goes back to ancient Greek and Egyptian times but he was a healer, strong, and credited with the Trojan defeat by the Greeks. All in all a good dude unless you are a Trojan. It turns out that for years I was supposedly a Sagittarius but now my birthday falls into the new division. Where once I was, according to the category of Sagittarius, determined, zestful for life and love, well intentioned, and physical now I am, according to the category of Ophiuchus, one who progresses well through life, seeks wisdom and knowledge, a good dresser (a fact I shall impress upon my wife who thinks I'm a slob) who eventually ends up where he needs to be because he can figure out how things work. I'm not sure if that is progress or not. I wonder how I will adjust to my new found characteristics? How will people react to the new me? I don't feel any more "bookish" yet, although my zest for life has waned lately. I just figured it was progressive age or allergies. I had no idea the stars had lined up against me. How can you argue against 6 trillion stars? Astrologists look to see what star is behind what other star and what planet from this galaxy intersects with this other planet. They look to see what star or sign you were born under(mine was the Grant-Buie hospital sign in Hillsboro). This was based on ancient mysticism and superstitious attempts to figure out or appease some angry god of nature. And today we still want some sort of control in a world where so much is out of control. The good news is I don't have to worry about aligning myself with the stars but being sure I've aligned myself with the Maker of the stars. And the further good news is that by faith in Christ, we can align ourselves with Him the one Who works on our destiny and our character. You tell me, which is the better deal: figuring out by ancient superstition how the stars have lined up or knowing deeply the One who "determines the number of the stars (billions of galaxies with trillions of stars) and calls them each by name (Ps. 147: 4)? The even further good news is that I don't need another constellation sign to help me change, I need only follow by faith the Bright and Morning Star who promises us He will never leave us nor forsake us. The changes take place as I follow Christ in faithful obedience. A bright star burst into being some 192 light years away and with a such a flash that it is picked up by earth's scientific instruments. With light traveling at 5.8 trillion miles per year that bright nova may have already burned itself out by the time we knew of its existence. Yet the promise from God as the Bright and Morning Star is that His Light will never fade and those who follow Him won't either. Follow the stars? We are eternally better off if we follow the One who gives source to their light as our own Source of light. Under the sign of the cross, Cos

Blame

2011-01-12T07:50:00.000-08:00

The tragedy in Tuscon defies words on so many levels. Yet, words of disbelief, disillusionment, fear, and outrage have filled the air. We wonder if it was a man with a gun who was mad or a madman with a gun. We've heard from former friends and family about the gunman being a little different but how he seemed to get weirder, more angry, and more reclusive recently. Drugs are brought up as a cause, mental illness is assumed, political rhetoric is pointed toward with another view toward gun control or more "programs" to spot these kinds of people and stop them before it's too late. We want to know who's responsible and blame an uncivilized society on politics, illness, maladjustment, and lack of attention. We call for a return to civility and kindness. I'm all for more civility. In fact, I'd personally like to see schools or better yet, maybe community centers and churches have classes in manners. (Ideally, it would be nice if parents would teach this but today's parents are too busy so they let the Real Housewives, Desparate Housewives, Modern Families, Super Nanny and Snookie from Jersey Shore teach our kids. )We've forgotten how to act toward other human beings. But classes on manners and deportment (there's a word you haven't seen in a while--it used to be on report cards) won't stop demons in the desert or other places from turning deadly all the time. But I think I see a progression, acutally a degression in our society back from civility to more root causes. Civility arises out of respect. We no longer treat one another with grace and civility because we don't respect other humans. We don't respect other human beings because other humans' value is discounted. Human value is discounted because truth, objective truth is also discounted or thrown onto the pile of of moral relativism. When truth is discounted, what truth teaches us about God has no effect. What truth says is that we are made in God's image and answerable to Him. Truth from God says that human beings are created in God's image and have intrinsic, eternal value. Out of respect for God we are to treat others with respect because our God, our Lord, our Boss, our Saviour loves them and we are commanded to love and respect others as He does. The fact that we are created and fallen is a truth that properly understood also produces a humility that allows dialogue and respect to grow. But if there is no God, if there is no truth, then there won't be any respect and the lack of civility, the lack of dialogue (why talk if no one else's opinion counts but mine and people like me) will create rampant selfishness and polarization will thrive. In this kind of culture my pain is supreme and me having my way is the driving force for life. Whatever then makes me happy becomes the goal in life. In this kind of society people can feel unimportant, unappreciated and unloved. The only voice they hear after a while is the voice of rejection, pain, self, sin and satan. God help us. Then a 9-11 happens, a Virgina Tech happens, a Columbine happens, a Tuscon happens and a beautiful nine year old girl with deep, brown eyes and big dreams is lost after a few days of lament to the labeling, political posturing, and finger pointing of a nation that has by and large forgotten how to answer to the Living God and how to love and respect human beings made in His image. II Chronicles 7:14 Cos

Definition of Irony?

2011-01-03T06:40:00.000-08:00

Brandon, TX

With some exclusions of course....the truth of the matter is we are all a little like this, what we declare doesn't always match what we live. I saw a church in Atlanta, GA during the '96 Olympics and the name of the church was 'The Perfect Church.' I went up on its porch and saw a big chain locking the front doors. I guess that's how it stayed perfect, it let no one in. Ironies and imperfections don't keep us from growth in God's kingdom, or they shouldn't. We don't ignore them, we seek to overcome them by the grace of God . May your new year know no fences in your seeking to know and serve Christ more fully.

"Therefore we do not lost heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweights them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. II Cor. 4:16-18

Christmas Conversations (part V)

2010-12-24T09:23:00.000-08:00

In the fullness of time, God sent forth his son, born of a virgin, born under the law to redeem those under the law, that we might receive the full rights as sons. Galatians 4:4-5 Gabriel flew over to Michael, "This just isn't right is it, Michael? He needs more honor, more notice, more, more...for goodness sakes it's Christ the King!" "Easy, Michael." The archangel had a calming effect on his younger friend. "Our Father knows what He is doing. The world will know soon enough. Now go tell those shepherds down there what's going on. Take the choir with you." "Shepherds! Are you kidding me, Michael? They are dirty, no count scoundrels, at least that is what I've heard." "No one gets left out of this Kingdom by this King if they chose to believe. Tell them. Tell them to go and see their King." So Gabe departed and found the shepherds and told them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the city of David, a Saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: you will find him wrapped in cloths, and lying in a manger." So the shepherds heard a choir of angels and went into Bethlehem and found the baby... "Joachim, some shepherds are here and want to see the baby," Eli whispered this news to the beaming grandfather. "Shepherds! There's no way I'm letting shepherds get near that child." "Joachim, take it easy. At least see them and inquire how they even knew," Joseph mildly corrected his father-in-law. "All right....Shepherds! What brings you here? How do you know of this birth?" "An angel told us..." "Angel, an angel?" bellowed Joachim and stirred the baby. "Why does he even appear to shepherds and not to me? Everyone is seeing angels but the grandpapa. What is going on...oh, come on. This angel hasn't been wrong yet...." "Why look! It's just a baby! "Well, what didja expect?! That big angel said, 'today, a saviour has been born to you." "Yeah, but I just weren't expecting no baby." "Well, what didja expect?" "I don't know, not a baby, I guess. The angel said a saviour and I didn't expect a saviour to be no baby." "He'll grow. He'll grow up and be a fine saviour, I just bet he will." "I don't know. I don't know of any saviour being born in a stable." "Well, tell me, what saviour do you know about being born anywhere?" "Ow, you know I don't know any saviour more than you. I guess with all them angels, I expected something, well something more like, like royalty or kings, not some old stable in a cave. Why them parents is nearly as pore as we are. I just don't see "messiah" in any of this. It's just a baby... "I know, I know. But we heard them angels sing. We heard that glowing one talk to us and tell us wheer to find this baby. It was all just like he said. And he said this was the Christ, the saviour, even if he don't look like it now." "What's a saviour suppose to look like anyway? Maybe its not just what he looks like or how he starts. Maybe its where he finishes that counts, too. That's what I believe. He is the Christ. Let's go tell some folks......" And so it came to pass that later that night, after everyone was finally able to fall asleep, Joachim was roused by a soft glowing in his corner of the cave... "Joachim, Joachim, wake up, wake up..." It was the angel... "Wha.. what is...what is happening...oh, my, are you, are you an angel?" "Yes, a messenger from God, by His grace." "Frankly Angel, with all the sightings to everyone it seemed but me, I thought God may have been displeased with me." "No, Joachim, God is very pleased. He sent me to everyone who needed to see and hear me. You had faith to believe without seeing, the best kind of faith. You heard the truth and believed and acted on that faith. You possess the kind of faith that can bless others. " "Then why now? After all the the excitement? After the birth?" "Now starts many wondrous and some very hard things to come. Be prepared, your kind of faith will be needed more than ever, Joachim. You behold the infinite God in the infant; the creator of the universe now struggles to grasp the finger of his mother; He, who had the vision to see salvation for all through the forgiveness of sin, can now as a babe only see things in a blur. So keep believing, keep trusting. Help others to see in the coming years that the Saviour has been born. There will be harder lessons of faith but you can help others to see that Jesus is the Christ..." With those words, the angel departed but Joachim's faith didn't. It only grew. Merry Christmas 2010, Cos

Christmas Conversations (part IV)

2010-12-21T06:57:00.000-08:00

* Dear Readers (all seven of you),
Historical points to ponder before you read this installment...

-there is no innkeeper mentioned in scripture
-there are two Greek words used in Luke's gospel for "inn." one word used in the good Samaritan story of Luke 10, is used to convey the idea of an inn more to our modern understanding. It was often in the first century no more than a camping place with tents or tarps on poles provided. "Guests" provided their own bedding, the innkeeper would provide access to water, a fire for warming or cooking, and in the "five star" inns of the day possibly morning breakfast breads. In the larger "inns" there were occasionally rooms nearby or attached to the courtyard "inn." The other word translated "inn" in Luke is used in the story of Mary and Joseph and often means guestroom. With many people, many relatives of Mary and Joseph coming to Bethlehem to register, the guestroom at a relatives houses may have already been taken. With the crowd of people whether in a house or a courtyard "inn," it was obviously not a good place to birth a baby.
-at this time in Palestine, the "stables" were often attached to or actually another room in the home where the domesticated animals for milk and hauling were housed in winter weather. Because the "shepherds" were camping out in the fields at night may indicate that the time of Jesus' birth was a warmer time of the year. The Dec. 25 date was worked out between 273 and 336 AD by the Roman church leaders and finalized with the adoption of the Gregorian calendar. The actual date of Jesus' birth is unknown.

-Bethlehem's geography added another possibility to the story of Jesus' birth--caves. The area is dotted with caves in the hillsides that were used as stables and sometimes residences. Many scholars believe Jesus' birth in a stable was in one of these caves which would have provided a quieter place, more comfortable, more private place for the birth. Also, scripture doesn't mention if Jesus was born on M & J's first night in Bethlehem or the third or fifth.
-with these historical and geographical thoughts in place here is part IV of Christmas Conversations with grandparents included.

"We are going with you! There is no discussion," insisted Joachim. "We all have to be registered, we all have to go to Bethlehem. It only makes sense. We go together."
"I don't want to trouble you. And besides, there is already talk about Mary's pregnancy," whispered Joseph.
"All the more reason to get away for a few days --together."
"Well, I know Mary will appreciate the help her mother could be. And truthfully, I'm frightened. What if she has the baby while we are on the trip?"
"That may not be a bad thing, Joseph. The gossip, the looks...I wish that angel everybody saw would show himself to the townspeople.That would shut them up!"
"I guess we'd better pack then. Tomorrow at sunrise?''
"Sunrise."

"I know I slowed you down. I'm sorry." Mary was kind but tired as they arrived in Bethlehem.
"We made great time! It's my old bones that kept our pace slower. Anyway, we are here."
"Anna, would you tend to Mary? I'm going to take Joachim and find some of our relatives. Between the two clans with God's grace we will find a good place to stay." Joseph was grateful for the company, especially now since Joachim's presence doubled their chances of finding room. They both had actually met several relatives on pilgrimage to Jerusalem through the years. Maybe they will remember...

"Oh it is good to see you Eli. But I must confess you are the fourth relative we've contacted and we've found no place to stay. Have you any room? We are in a precarious situation, too. My wife Mary is with me and is about to give birth."
"Joseph, I didn't know you had married. That's great! Our guest room is full, has been for weeks, with the census...we could probably move some around. Wait, I've got an idea. I'll move some of the older children out to our stable. We have a great cave for a stable. It's pretty clean since the animals aren't going in too much this time of the year. We will sweep it out a bit and put them down there and you and, and, what's your wife's name, in their place in the house."
"Mary. Her name is Mary. Eli, could we see the stable. I, too, have an idea...
"I'm thinking the same thing Joseph," Joachim allowed. "This may be great news."
Eli led them out the side of the house and down a path to a cave, fashioned with a little corral into a stable.
"This is perfect, Eli. Let Mary, Anna, Joachim and I stay here. It's more peaceful. It's protected and if Mary has the baby more private. In fact, if you will let me arrange the hay it will be more comfortable for Mary than a pallet on the floor."
"It's yours, Joseph. I'll get some extra blankets and candles. Noami will come clean it out a little better. She won't like the idea at first-- a new in-law, pregnant, and staying in the stable, but I see your point. With all that bloated, belching and bellowing bunch in the house I may come down here myself."

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room in the inn. (Luke 2:6-7)

And thus as the earth gave life to the first man when God breathed life into the dusty clay, so now from the womb-like cave the earth brings forth a Savior who breathes earth's air into his lungs that he might breathe God's breath of redemption into mankind.

Imaginings between the lines,
Cos

(part V on Christmas eve)

Christmas Coversations (part III)

2010-12-18T04:49:00.000-08:00

Anna, Anna! Look! A young priest has brought word from Mary and Elizabeth. It's an animal skin scroll. Quick, open it, Joachim! Who will read it for us? Joachim and Anna sat down anxiously at the table and began to open the scroll. It was sealed with beeswax at several points only allowing the scroll to be open bit by bit revealing more of the contents as it was unrolled. Look, Anna, it's not words. It's pictures. What is this...? It's a priest... An old one it looks like to me, Papa. Ya, he does look old. Its has to be Zechariah. Break the next seal, Papa.. It's angel with Zechariah, ya an angel. What's with this angel? He's been busy. This is a good sign, Anna. Hurry, Papa, the next seal... Joachim broke the next seal. It revealed an old woman with an obvious bulge in her midsection. It's true, Anna. It's true. Elizabeth is with child. The angel told Zechariah and it has come to pass. They, in the old years, are expecting just as Mary told us. Papa, there's more to open... Ya, one more. Look, now there are two women. One young, one old. It's Mary and Elizabeth. Their faces glow as do their bellies. The angel of God has visited them and they are blessed. Oh, Anna, everything the angel told Mary is true. Quickly, rolled it back up, Anna. I must go to Joseph to tell him. My visit with him about Mary didn't go well. He just couldn't believe what I was telling him. But didn't he believe Mary when she went to him after your visit? He was wanting to believe but it is hard. It's been hard for me, too but this scroll confirms it. Maybe it will help Joseph. I think he was thinking of divorcing Mary. No, Papa! Even before the wedding. Mary would be disgraced and could never marry. Not to worry, Anna. God is in all of this. This message from Mary will help but I must go... But it is still so early. This can't wait! Joseph was opening the doors to his carpentry shop and he looked down the dusty road. He thought maybe he should not start work yet and first go and tell Anna and Joachim what he now knows. Looking down the road he saw it would not be necessary. Here comes Joachim almost running. He's going to trip over his robe if he's not careful. He probably suspects that I was thinking about divorcing Mary. He will be surprised... Joseph, Joseph, whew, let me catch my breath a moment. I've, I've ah-ha, I've got some news from Mary. Joachim, have a seat. Rest a moment and catch your breath. I've got news for you, too. An angel from the Lord appeared to me last night and told me everything Mary said is true. The child she carries is from God. An angel from the Lord visited you! Joachim interrupted. What is it with this angel? He visits everyone but the Papa! Oh, what am I saying ? He may strike me for not believing all these appearances. Blessed are you who talks to angels and believes! No, Joachim, blessed are those who see no angels and still believe. Ah, well, yes but now tell me what else did the angel say? He said the baby's name will be Jesus for he will save his people from their sins. I am blessed, Joachim. I am at peace, I am amazed, I am confused, I am confident and I am frightened all at once. What happens now, Papa? Well, I'm not, wait... you called me Papa! Yes, with Mary and I about to me married I thought I'd call you'Papa.' Is that all right? Ya, Son, that is fine. By the way did you also hear the latest news. Our elders and Rome have reached an agreement on this census they want to put on us. Our elders agreed to do it but insisted that the families return to their ancestral home to be counted. We will all be taking a trip to Bethlehem soon to register just for the privilege of being taxed! I wonder how all this will play out, Papa? A trip with an expectant wife... I'm not sure, Joseph, but it appears that God and his angels have things well in hand. Imaginings between the lines- Matthew 1:18-24 Cos

Christmas Conversations (part II)

2010-12-14T11:43:00.000-08:00

"Shalom, Elizabeth, shalom! Mary greeted Elizabeth as she practically burst through the door of the old priest's house. "Mary! exclaimed Elizabeth. At that moment the Spirit of God moved in her heart and she cried out "blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear. But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound our your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!" "Then you know I am pregnant. And I see for myself that what the angel said of your being with child is true also." "Yes, child. The angel also appeared to Zechariah while he was serving in the temple in Jerusalem last year. His mouth has been shut and he can't speak but he has drawn and gestured the most remarkable signs of things to come." "But Elizabeth, I have known no man." "And I have known one for decades with no results. But by the hand of God, Mary, can wombs never visited and wombs never opened experience life." "Perhaps that is the only way anyone can truly experience life, they must be visited by God." "Aye, and the fruit of my womb will tell of the coming visit of my Lord to this world." "And the fruit of mine will be the visit itself. I just don't understand it all. I can't quiet comprehend its meaning." "Nor can I, Mary. I just know this is all of God. We are both caught up in the workings of the hand of God for the redemption of His people. Let us try and soak in as much as possible and enjoy His promise as we see where He takes us." "Oh, Elizabeth! I must try and find a way to get a word to Papa. He will want to hear the confirmation of your pregnancy. I told him what the angel had said to me and he sent me immediately to help you if I could but also to see if it was true...This will be great news to him. But how can I tell him. He can't read..." "Not to worry, Mary. We will have Zechariah draw him a picture. He has gotten quite good at it these last few months with no voice. Your Papa will have no doubts when he receives our message. There's a trade caravan leaving tomorrow that will pass within a stadia of your house. I'll send the message with a trusted younger priest going along to service at the temple. He will deliver it with no questions." "Then he will be the only one around our family with no questions. Do you still play the lyre, Elizabeth? I've been thinking of words to put into a song to express my wonder and thankfulness. Could you help me with the music?" "Yes, Mary. I have the feeling that the music written about your son will never end. Now let's get that picture drawn for your papa..." Between the lines imaginings, Luke 1:39-56 Cos

Christmas Conversations (part I)

2010-12-08T07:31:00.000-08:00

"Momma, where's Papa? I need to speak with him?" Mary showed a combination of emotions on her face her mother had never seen before. Anna couldn't be sure but Mary seemed to be both with fear and with peace at the same time. How could this be? Anna wasn't sure but instinctively knew that Mary needed Joachim and spoke nothing else to her daughter but to say "Your Papa is coming up the path from the garden, go to him." Mary ran outside and down the path to meet her Papa. How do I tell him I saw an angel who told me I was pregnant? "Papa, we need to talk?" The tears were welling in the corners of her eyes, she was unable to form words. "We talk all the time, what makes this talk different?" Joachim tried to inject some tenderness in his voice. His daughter was in some turmoil, struggling for words. "Something has happened,Papa, but I'm not sure how to tell you. If I tell what happened, you won't believe me. If I tell you what's going to happen, you will think I'm a liar who made it all up just to protect myself." "Come child, you know I've never thought like that about any of you children. You tell me what's bothering you and then we'll sort it out." They had walked quite a bit in silence. Mary stopped to lean on a corner post of a sheep pen. The sun was setting low and bathed the evening with a golden glow. "Papa, I'm going to have a child." The silence pierced Mary's heart. Joachim's heart broke. "I never would have thought....I didn't think you and Joseph..." "No Papa, its not like that. It's not Joseph's.. "What?!!? Who has done this... "No, no Papa, listen. It's not any body's I, I, mean I've known no man, but "Then how are you, how are you, I, I can't even speak the word... how are you... "Papa, listen. I've seen an angel. He told me I was going to have a baby and that the Holy Spirit would come over me and I would give birth to the holy one who is the Son of God. Messiah is coming through me." "Don't blaspheme child! This is no joking matter!" "Oh Papa, please, why would I make this up? You know who I am, where I've been, who I have been with. I've known no man. Please listen, please believe. I know what I saw, I know what I heard, I know what I feel. You of all people who taught us to love God, believe God and listen for Him, you've got to understand." Her words subdued him. His mind raced. No words came for a few moments. "I'll try, Mary, I'll try. What else did this 'angel' say?" "He said the baby's name would be Jesus. He would be great and God would give Him David's throne. He also said my kinswoman Elizabeth is expecting and is six months along. He also said nothing is impossible with God." "Elizabeth? She's old and she and Zachariah can't have children. God has closed her womb." "Like Abraham and Sarah?" Joachim crumpled down on the ground. "This is too much to take in. I can't believe what I'm hearing and yet I'm hearing it from someone who never lies to me and who truly believes." "Maybe I'll ask God to let the angel visit you, too," offered Mary. But I wish you'd believe me, just me. I'm not lying Papa. An angel really appeared to me. I told him I was the Lord's servant and may it be to me as you have said. Then he left me." "I believe, help my unbelief." No angel appeared to Joachim but an almost palpable sense of peace swept over him. He looked at Mary. "This is hard to accept, but God's ways are not always easy and do not conform to us, we conform to Him. Have you told Joseph or your mother?" "I've told no one but you." "Alright then, here's what we'll do. I'll tell Joseph and we'll tell your mother when we walk back to the house. Then, we will send you to Zack and Liz's house to confirm what the angel said to you about her. If it is true she will need some help since their home is empty and she is old. I don't know how this will work out, especially in the family or the synagogue or the town, but if it is of God, then He has a plan and we must follow it." "Thank-you, Papa. You do believe me." "Well, I've always felt you were a gift from God, my child. I always sensed that God would use you. I never imagined this, I'm not sure I still can but we will walk in faith and see what God does." Joachim and Mary were back at the house now. He took a deep breath, stood tall and expanded his chest. "You let me talk to your mother. I think I know how to start." "What have you two been talking about. It's not fair to keep secrets from me. I'm the mother, you know." "Now Anna, wait a moment and we'll tell you everything. Sit down, you are about to hear some strange and wonderful things. Now, first, we are going to be grandparents, -God's grandparents....." Imaginings between the Lines Luke 1 Cos

Christmas Traffic

2010-11-29T08:48:00.000-08:00

I eased up just a little to get a better view. There didn't seem to be a break as far as I could see. Pam thought she saw an opening and urged me to surge ahead. I stayed put. I wasn't going to risk it. "Why didn't you take that opening?" she protested. "It would have required that lady to slow down and brake and I had no way of knowing if she would or could. She could have hit us and this holiday shopping can be enough of a hassle without a crash." Traffic was brutal. There seemed to be no openings. No room to maneuver. People driving crazily. So we just waited our turn. Finally, an older gentleman slowed way down and waved me out. Whew! "Thank-you," I mouthed to the kindly old fellow and I meant it. It must have taken a least three minutes to get off the drug aisle at Wal-Mart and into the main aisle. There the traffic was buggy-to-buggy. I really was in a chipper mood despite the shopping traffic, although one of my fellow church members saw me and said I was looking a bit "Grinchey." The truth is I always look that way so all was normal, relatively speaking. But the experience showed me a few things that I think will really help with this Christmas spirit thing. My contribution would be a few simple traffic rules to use in stores. Rule 1: Understand that the aisles are like streets. Keep to the right, unless you're from England or Australia. In those cases please shop in England or Australia. Don't go down the aisle on the left side, this is America. Rule 2. Do not park your shopping cart in the middle of the aisle\road and then go over to the shelves. Keep the cart parked parallel with the shelves , not at an angle. Pull over to the right as far as possible and walk across the 4.7 feet of the aisle to the item in which you are interested. With all that figgy pudding you probably need the exercise anyway. Rule 3. Side aisle and minor aisles must yield the right-of-way to the major aisles. Inevitably, some heck-bent for CocoPuffs driver pulls right out into the main aisle from the toilet paper aisle with no regard for the overall flow of traffic. I've seen these rude, non-thinking people disrupt store traffic so that even the restroom lines are out the door. Rule 4. Visiting in the aisle with another driver\customer is strictly prohibited. Neighborly chats can back up things so badly, especially at Christmas, that the milk expires before you can get to the register to pay for it. A smile and a quick "I'll call you later," while you pass by on the right is all that is needed. Rule 5. This is not so much a rule as suggestion---the major stores should provide passing lanes and rest areas to pull off to the side for a rest. I realize this would be expensive but the mood of shoppers would probably be so enhanced that they would actually spend more money while there. At least the rest of us could get to the shelves with a good set of passing lanes. Rule 6. Electric dog collars that shock should be placed on all shoppers when they enter the store. Then, if they get in an express line for 20 items or less, and they have 22 items....zzittzzz! This could also be used on folks who write checks and wait until everything is scanned and in the buggy and then they begin to pull out their checkbook and pen. Come on, you know you are writing a check, you know the name of the store you are in, get busy writing or zzziittzz is coming. Well, I've got some other ideas about assigned parking, cashier-to-customer ratios, required driver's ed for how to handle those handicapped scooters, and spending limits based on church attendance but I'll save those for later. Just please know that this pastor has plenty of Christmas spirit about him,(zzittzz! ouch!) chief of which is the thankfulness that there is no waiting in line at the manger of Bethlehem. In fact, if you are still looking for the perfect gift, it's still there. Still learning what the real saving place is .... Cos

Firsts That Last

2010-11-15T07:36:00.000-08:00

In some ways, life is a series of firsts. Someway, under the miraculous hand of God, an embryo begins to grow and soon flutters and the first heartbeat begins at about 21 days after conception. And the "firsts" just keep on coming, day after day, year after year. Upon arrival a new baby takes her first breath and fills her lungs with air. Soon she asks for her first trip to the mall. Parents and grandparents marvel at the "firsts" at first. The first smile; the first word; the first steps. There are few things in life that bring more joy than some of the first "firsts" as little ones grow on these initial experiences. Children gingerly take those first wobbly steps to outstretched arms and all too soon run away from those arms. First tastes of chocolate and ice cream are topped with first days of school, first touchdowns, and first "A's." First drives lead to first kisses and first loves. In all these come another kind of firsts--the first skinned knee, the first accident and the first broken heart. These are ominous signs of something amiss in the world, first noticed in a garden long ago. I still recall one of my first "firsts." It was the time my dad let me drive the tractor by myself. I don't know the exact age, somewhere around the age of 8 or 9. We had an old John Deere "50" which was controlled by a hand clutch which meant I didn't have to reach a foot clutch or brake with my little legs. The trip without him actually being with me on the tractor was a short one, from the gas tank to the tractor shed, maybe thirty feet, but I felt huge. I was big enough, trusted enough, skilled enough to drive the tractor myself! I should have known it was a trap. Within a year or two it meant driving the tractor as a part of work, real work in a hot field all by myself. Well, no use going over plowed ground. Who knows, I may have driven a tractor for the last time. For as we grow older we bring into play another truth: one of these days we will do some of the things that were once "firsts" in our lives for the last time. There will be a time that will be a last time for everything. Some of them are youthful endeavors only possible because of youth's physical strengths like dunking a basketball, hitting a baseball 400 ft or a golf ball 332 yards. It appears that the "firsts" and the "lasts" do a great battle for many years. As some things fall away with time's chiseling the "firsts" still get in a few licks. There is that first steak you could afford to pay $35 for when just a few years ago it was all kid's Happy Meals. If you're lucky there is that first trip to Hawaii or New York or Luckenback or wherever you really wanted to go but never had the time or money to do so. But there are also the first trips to the cardiologist, the first joint replacement, and the death of the first classmate from high school. All too soon, the "lasts" begin to pile up, some not so bad, some horrible. There will be the last time you host Thanksgiving or Christmas for the daughter or granddaughter do that now--but please bring the 'nanner' pudding and the pecan pie because no one does it like you. And you never know when you will receive the last embrace or tender kiss from someone you love. You can know it's coming, but its doubtful you'll know when it was the last one. That is a grace in itself. These last things come on with relentless speed, explained unknowingly by Mike in Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises, who is asked how he ended up bankrupt, ''Gradually, then suddenly." It seems that the "lasts" win out and we are right back where we started and we take in that last shallow breath and the heart flutters it's last uninspired beat. Somber thoughts which could be depressing but there's an ointment around this fly of last things. Let God speak who is Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. Let God be the first to determine what lasts and what doesn't. Let God put His eternal cents worth in. "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. (John 11:25-26) In His grace He brings the marvel of first things into our lives. In His grace He insures that the last things of a fallen and broken world that mount up in life will not have the last word. By His grace He has determined that last things won't last. Death, decay, broken dreams, broken bodies and broken relationships will not last in His kingdom. He has worked it so that the last breath here gives way to the first breath of heaven's atmosphere. When slow, feeble steps cease on earth, kingdom feet will find themselves running on golden gravel. The last heartbeat here pounds a new rhythm called eternity there in His Heavenly Kingdom. The last embrace and brush of lips on lips in home or hospice melts away and the next conscience thought is the brush of angels wings ushering us into the arm of Jesus. Somehow, this is one of my views of heaven where the "firsts" are the only thing that lasts. Enjoy it all, first to last for His grace will redeem it all. And the last shall be first, Cos

Pastor's Mental Health Condition Questioned

2010-11-09T07:39:00.000-08:00

In a not too astonishing development, sources inside the White Bluff Chapel pastor's home are calling into question the mental stability of the pastor, Terry Cosby. These reports stem from a series of lapses, though seemingly innocuous individually that have led to suspicions from a family member that the pastor is "losing it" and may be "off his rocker," to quote the source. In addition to the usual leaving the refrigerator door open, failing to zip up his pants, and constantly forgetting his cell phone the latest incident has one family member requesting an evaluation from a qualified physician. On a recent trip to Hillsboro, the Cosbys reportedly stopped by Braums where the pastor was instructed to go into the store and purchase eggs. He was given the additional task of checking out the bacon as he had forgotten to do so at Wal Mart. Upon returning to the car he carefully positioned the package to insure its cargo a safe passage. When home and placing the items in the 'fridge, the accusing family member saw that the pastor had purchased milk and bacon. When questioned about this the pastor only said that he had looked oddly at the clerk at Braums when she asked if he needed eggs, too. His reply was that 'I just bought eggs...." The anonymous family member noted that the pastor himself seemed perplexed about his memory but soon seemed his jolly self again probably due to the fact that he had forgotten what he had done. Later, another incident oocurred in the early morning. When getting his allergy medicine ready, he also pulled his dog's allergy medicine off the shelf. He then proceded to pop all three pills, including the dog's medicine and swallow. His nose was reportedly very clear that day, of which he mostly slept. His leg also twitched a lot as he slept. When later questioned at length about these dysfunctions the pastor could only surmise that he only forgot trivial matters of relative unimportance and noted that he had yet to forget to show up to preach, do a funeral, or perform a wedding when required. He also noted he had not forgotten his spouse's birthday or anniversary. The spouse noted that last year he had bought her a toaster for their anniversary. The pastor at this point was said to have stormed out of the home and muttered something about going to play golf. Upon his return four hours later the very somber pastor slumped in a chair and confessed to the wife that there must be something to her accusations. He allowed that he evidently has also forgotten how to play golf and can't remember a time he has shot below 88. The pastor immediately made an appointment with a local professional for an evaluation. This has brought some relief to the pastor's wife. It is reported that upon leaving for his appointment the pastor's wife yelled out to him to zip his pants. The pastor was later seen at the Old Course driving range for evaluation and instruction from the local professional. Hebrews 8:12 (Jer. 31:31-34) For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more." Just trying to be like Jesus............ Cos

Weeeping and Gnashing of Teeth

2010-11-03T07:32:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday, November 3 and the sounds of lament cry from the land. There is fear, anger, astonishment, second guesses and broken dreams. But enough about the Cowboys and the Rangers, there was a big election yesterday that promises change. Oh,where have I heard that before.......... Yes, I have become a political skeptic and cynic. Good guys like John Bass and Glenna Bodeker remind me properly that I just can't give up but must keep hoping and working for good things. I read a recent article from Chuck Colson that was helpful about hanging in and being faithful as that is what the church is called to do. Colson reminded me of Augustine's City of God wherein he argues that a Christian makes the best citizen because of his love for God and neighbor. I try to rightly judge my attitude toward all things spiritual, personal, political and governmental. The lines often get blurred and twisted. I don't want anyone questioning my patriotism but I also understand mine may not look like yours. I fight to try and stay positive and informed in policies and politics but the more informed I become the more I have to fight skepticism and negativity. I think I understand the call of a Christian to be a good citizen but increasingly it is harder, for me at least, to blend the two callings in a way that pleases God and benefits the nation. So what's a one time almost political junkie and Christian to do? I don't have all the answers and will probably end up with more questions but here are some thoughts I am trying on for size to see if they will fit better by the next wave of elections. *Check my default loyalties: Is my first and primary loyalty to the King of the Universe and His Kingdom? I do believe that one of the Adversary's tricks is to get me to subtly shift my loyalty from the greatest One Who gives grace and life and truth to lessor but good loyalties that advertise a more immediate response than that which the Kingdom of God may offer. I can quietly, stealthily begin to listen to the important voices calling to me rather than the eternal One which often speaks in a still, quiet voice. *Remind myself that "success" in the Kingdom is defined by faithfulness to the Savior as seen in loving obedience rather than the win-loss record of elections and bill passages. But a part of this faithfulness must manifest itself in the involvement of the church in the political process because the government wields much power and this power can be used for good or evil. When used properly this earthly power can bring freedom and justice, which certainly have spiritual roots, to many who would otherwise struggle in many kinds of tyranny. Slavery to a plantation owner in the 1860's was deplorable. Slavery to an enablement system that keeps people enslaved to the government is despicable and lessened only to the degree that freedom can be exercised to rise above circumstances with responsibility. To absence the voice of the church from politics would withhold those truths without which no nation can long survive. These Kingdom voices must speak truth to power which may not always meet with victory on this side of glory but will always be noted by the Kingdom of God. And truthfully victories are won this side of heaven: slavery is gone; women can vote; blacks can vote; education is public; we have a bill of rights-largely because of Christians (google John Leland and James Madison); * Remind myself again of the true calling of the church in all walks of life, be they political, social, or personal: to declare the salvation of Christ and be His hands, feet, and voice in the world. Our business is not limited to the business of political parties but extends to all mankind. Our Kingdom business in the church is to do what Jesus did and still desires to do through His church. He came to seek and to save that which is lost (Luke 19:10). In this salvation He grants to those who trust Him His righteousness( 2 Corinthians 5:21). In this righteousness is justice and freedom (Galatians 5). We thus become the feet of Jesus to take the gospel to the lost, the hands to serve the needs of humanity and the voice of Jesus to cry out for justice for the marginalized, impoverished, forgotten, and neglected. If the church has lost influence in the Western world, quite possibly it is because we cried out more for our tax exempt status and our economic well being than we did for kids with aids in Africa, rape victims in Somalia, human trafficking in America, orphans anywhere, tortured Christians in China, or any group needing a voice in a world filled with the noise of self-interest. *Remind myself to always do things just because they are the right things to do. And in the meantime, and the times are always mean somewhere, keep learning more about what things are simply right. *Remind myself to always preach first to myself. I need to hear truth and I need a nap. Surely even my preaching can get at least one accomplished. Cos

No Miner Accomplishment

2010-10-15T06:48:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while the world gets a breather from bad news with a heart tugging story that ends well. Such has been the case of the 33 Chilean miners who were trapped underground for 70 days after a cave-in. Hats off to the mine administration, at least for the recovery effort. Cuddos to the Chilean government who welcomed ideas and help from all over the globe. Well done humans around the world who sent ideas, equipment and other humans to help with the rescue. Well done all! The crew shift leader, Luis Urzua, recognized quickly what could happen to send the men spiraling down the shaft, so to speak, of depression, anger, fear, and anarchy. He organized them to clean, work, recreate, and hope. I have no doubt when the movie is made his character will take center stage. The church got in on the help in a very ecumenical way, also. Prayer meetings and vigils were organized around the nation. Someone was praying at the mine at all times. As soon as the smaller relief tube was drilled and the miners immediate physical needs were met, their spiritual needs were attended to also. The Seventh Day Adventist sent down mini-Bibles for all the miners. The Jesus Project sent down 33 MP3 players with an audio adaptation of the famous Jesus film. The Catholics sent down a crucifix and statues of the saints and the virgin Mary. The Baptist Press reported that two miners made first time professions of faith and became Christians. Faith was tested no doubt, but faith became integral to the group as they prayed and worshipped regularly together. Minor Jimmy Sanchez said that "there are actually 34 of us, because God never left us down there." I'm afraid I see a cloud on all this silver lining, however. Maybe we in the church need to continue to pray for these miners. They are now becoming celebrities. Offers are coming in from all over the globe. Vacations to Europe and the US are offered. Book and movie deals will come at them. They have agreed to agree together on these things but will their coalition hold? Who will speak for them? How will they make decisions about who to trust, which "deals" to accept, if they should pursue legal courses and just become rich from all the attention being thrown their way? Can their marriages stand the strain? Already some have decided to end "empty" marriages and one miner, Johnny Barrios had two women waiting up top for him (only the girlfriend went to the rescue, the wife stayed away) They have handled the tragedy of the cave-in remarkable well. How will they handle the pressure they are about to endure? I hope the church steps in as it can without barging in on their lives to offer balance and remind them of those spiritual lessons learned underground. I hope those lessons help them say "no" when necessary even if it cost them monetarily. I hope the cave in remains the real tragedy and that their individual lives aren't caved in from the pressures of being stars now. The Bible warns us in Proverbs 27: 21 that "the crucible for silver and the furnace for gold, but a man is tested by the praise he receives." A kind and trusted soul should read Psalm 49: 16-20 to them, a part of which reads " do not be overawed when a man grows rich, when the splendor of his house increases; for he will take nothing with him when he dies,.... A man who has riches without understanding is like the beasts that perish." So the world rejoices as it should over fellow humans hanging in and triumphing over great adversity. It gives us all a boost and a little hope in whatever dark places and cave-ins we might face. There is hope, there is help, and God never leaves us alone in our own darkest moments. But don't stop praying for these guys and their families. It may be a hard prayer to pray (I know as I have done it myself) but for them and ourselves Proverbs 30:7-9 mights be appropriate: "Two things I ask of you, O Lord; do not refuse me before I die; Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty or riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise I may have too much and disown you and say, 'who is the Lord?' Or I may become poor and steal, and dishonor the name of my God." The miners made a decision 70 plus days ago to live and triumph. Now even more decisions are being forced upon them. Hope they choose well. You and I face the same kinds of decisions, they are just spread out in time a little more. Pray that we all choose well by the wisdom of God. These are not just miner decisions, they are also ours. Often in the dark, but never without a Light, Cos PS: Tom, 42-46=88

Missing Letters

2010-09-29T07:39:00.000-07:00

I'm spoiled. I know it. I like my modern conveniences like electricity, air conditioning, spell chek and remote controls. But with all the ubiquitous gadgets and devices that exist to keep us networked, I've discovered something I miss. I can't remember the last time I received a personal letter. You remember letters don't you? Before the invention of email, Facebook, Twitter, smartphones and three-cents-minute rate plans people had to write letters, especially if the person you needed to communicate with was "long distance." Miss Geneva and Miss Kornegey even taught letter writing as part of the lesson plans for third through sixth graders at Milford elementary. For many, letter writing was just a way of life. Kids wrote letters from camp and signed up for "pen-pals." Parents wrote letters to children who lived more that twenty miles away. College students wrote home to parents and grandparents. I can't remember the last hand-written letter of any length I received or that I've written to someone else. There are cheaper, easier, faster ways to communicate. But are they better? I don't know. Can you imagine what the apostle Paul could have done with Yahoo and Facebook? I've tried to analyze why I'm missing letters and I think the main thing was the personal connection. I receive and write cards occasionally and my wife, Pam, is great about card-sending. But cards are usually event or problem specific. Good letters are personal, informative, humorous, ofttimes intimate, and assume a level of knowledge which makes reading between the lines both possible and fun. I've a friend I dearly love whom I have blocked from my inboxes. All he ever sends are "forwards" of mind-dumbing trivia or political party bashing. I'd love to hear how his days are spend in retirement. How are his wife and those kids that I baptized and later performed their weddings doing? Tell me about your grand kids so I'll have an opening to tell you about my better one. What has the Lord shown them through the years and how is that foot with the nerve damage? Instead I get a forward message that began the rounds sometime back in the Clinton administration about the benefits and uses of vinegar. I'll cherish the letter my mom sent to me somewhere around my twenty-fifth or thirtieth birthday when she described the circumstances, the weather, and the feelings she had at my birth. It gave me the sense of actually being there. My dad wrote me a letter once. I've kept that letter buried deeply in my papers somewhere. Maybe my kids will find it when I die and they will see a glimpse of my dad that I didn't even know was there before "the letter." I'll always be amazed at the letters Dr. Shields, my theology prof. at Howard Payne wrote years and years after I'd graduated. Full page letters with tiny script, full of information but more encouraging that anything else. I was only one of hundreds of former students he wrote. I might make myself feel guilty enough that I'll write letters again. At nearly fifty cents postage for a letter and taking the better part of an hour to write, it would be quite an investment. Possibly that is really one of the problems in our world, we are very well connected but not very well invested in the hearts, minds, and lives of others. Letter writing is something of a lost art, to be sure. I hope it can be recaptured. If you ever doubt its worth I'd suggest you go to the computer and google "famous letters" or better still,recall those you received yourself (if you are old enough to have actually ever gotten a letter). Better yet, maybe just open the Bible and see the love letter God wrote to humanity. Dear Humanity, In the beginning........ Cos

Anybody here, seen my old friend ___________

2010-08-25T11:47:00.000-07:00

"...i looked around and they were gone..........." Well, maybe not gone but who would have ever thought they would be where they are now, my old preacher friends, I mean. They shouldn't be where they are. Take Bob, for instance. He is in Beaumont. He is from Big Spring. There is enough cultural difference alone to see Bob in a place other than in Beaumont. But there he is, chaplain at the hospital and doing great job I hear, especially from Bob (just kidding). When first I met Bob at a Howard Payne University freshman gathering you could tell he was smart, funny, and had a bit of a rebel streak in him. He wouldn't view the world like everyone else, especially preachers, although he was one. With his quick wit, compassion for the little guy, ability to see quickly through masks of hypocrisy and with a view toward justice for the disenfranchised he should have been in a university town with a large church filled with professors. He'd challenge, inform, love, tic-off, push, prod, and show mercy to movers and shakers and future shap-ers of the world and the Kingdom would thank him for it. He spent most of his ministry in a dusty oil field service town with a little farming around it. He fought health issues, battled fundamentalist in the denomination, got a new liver, married country boys to country girls, baptized freckled-faced boys and curly haired girls. He finally moved to town with a college, a two-year college any way. He helped the church clean up some lingering staff problems and they thanked him by firing him and anyone else left around just to give the church a complete clean slate. So Bob became a chaplain and you wonder about all that energy, wit, freshness, and rebellious spirit that kept church from being too worldly or too stuffy going to waste. I wouldn't have put Bob there, but God did. Then there's Larry. Larry doesn't really know how to pastor. After all, he's only had two churches. The first one he stayed at for about eight years and the second one for nearly thirty now. What can he possibly know about pastoring after only two pastorates? His church is in a suburb of Dallas. It is "landlocked" with streets, and parks, and businesses around it so they can't expand the buildings much. The area has gone from middle class white to black to Asian to Hispanic and back and forth. He never stood a chance. I'd have gotten him to a rich church with a huge missions budget because he dearly loves missions. He could have preached and taught and gone on mission trips and encouraged young men and women to become missionaries. He should have been named the head of the denominational mission board but he and God left him at the same place for thirty years. Oh, sure, his church has started or funded a dozen or so new mission churches, kept a crisis pregnancy center going, has blacks, whites, Asian, and Hispanics worshipping together and they love like no other church you've ever seen. Yeah, his sons are all in ministry from music to youth to pastoring and they touch people with the gospel in three states but just think what he could have been with a little push out of the nest he's made. Instead they just keep loving, proclaiming, funding, and finding ways to love Jesus and share him with a neighborhood that probably has no idea how good Larry could have been somewhere else. Poor suckers only know how good Jesus is to them there. In the list I'd have to include Bobby, too. Bobby had ADhD before they invented it. He does a lot , if not most of his pastoring from the car. You having a hangnail extracted,? If you're part of his church he'll probably hold your other hand during the procedure. If your having a real operation, he'll probably move in with you to serve you. He loves his family. He loves the Bible. It shows up in his preaching. He loves to go on mission trips. He loves his denomination. He loves his church. He's got enthusiasm and passion. He is loyal to a fault. His greatest trait may be that he can tell you to your face with bold honesty what "the problem is" and he will be right and you will hug him for it. If I told you the same thing, you would hit me. Bobby should have been in a church with lots of young couples getting married and struggling to stay married. He can help folks fix their marriages. So God puts him in churches in west Texas with bunches of old folks with very stable marriages, well, at least a much as you can have these days. He goes around loving and helping people in trouble. I've been to a half dozen leadership training conferences, have two theological degrees and read hundreds of books on Christianity and pastoring, hardly any of them mention those qualities. Oh well, if all your going to do with your life is love God, love people, and serve them 24-7, I guess it doesn't matter where He sticks you. Now consider poor Rick. Rick was one of the brightest. Rick was one of the quickest. Rick could preach up a storm, argue Satan to hell, and turn the lights of glory on in the hearts of sinners. He was the one. We'd all go to vacation in the big city where he would eventually pastor, attend his gigantic church, and lean over and tell our children in the pew beside us , "your dad went to school with that man." After church, he'd even remember your name right in front of your kids. He was the one. Bachelor's degree--waste of time. Master's degree---child's play. Doctorate--hard logistically but merely stimulating. Humble, sure. He'd pay his dues. He'd pastor little churches for a while we thought but "the call'' would come soon enough. The big one never seemed to fit. He take a church and next month the "big" pulpit would open up but now it was too soon to move again and unfair to the church he had just taken. That happened a couple of times. What was God up to? So he goes to one and stays a while and just grows it into a pretty big church. The denomination calls him to lead one of their divisions. He goes and within a few years the denomination is struggling so it lets hundred of workers go. How, God, could you let that happen? So Rick twists in the wind and the Wind blows him to a small community with a small church. Funny thing, in all the churches he leads people to repentance and faith in Christ. That guy on the couch in his living room has no idea the guy telling him about Jesus has the pedigree he has. Neither one of them seem to care at that moment. What happened? Is this how God works with the brightest and most promising? Rick, Bobby, Bob and Larry are not where I would have expected them to be when I considered our futures 37 years ago this month entering Howard Payne University. Maybe you never expected to be where you are either. Why? Who Knows? I guess He knows. He has His reasons. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength. He has used the foolish things of the world to confound the wise. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things to nullify the things that are so that no one may boast before Him (I Cor. 1:25-29). We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that the all-surpassing power is from God and not from us (II Cor. 4:7). Guys, I, along with many of your peers would have said 37 years ago, "these men will do a great work for God." I believe you have on so many levels but more importantly I see God has done a great work in you (Phil. 1:6) and through you. The score is not kept in Nashville or Dallas or Los Angeles or New York. No, if I had been in charge I'd have not put you where you are. I certainly would not have left you there. Turns out, God hasn't either. Cos

Caption Contest

2010-08-11T13:25:00.000-07:00

This little feller had too much Mt. Dew, I guess. This was alongside the road north of Blum. Got a good caption for this pic? I'll buy lunch for the winner. Cos "...gonna love me some high fructose corn syrup with a jolt of caffeine..." "...it's a 103 degrees out here, the asphalt was killin' my feet..." "...when its this hot, i'll do anything for a dew..." "...i'm gonna get this bottle cap off if its the last thing i do..." (contest is still open............)

Death at the Doorstep

2010-08-05T07:38:00.000-07:00

Ok, maybe the title is a bit strong, let me explain. While in Waco on Wednesday, Pam moved a cooler with synthetic ice blocks in it from one side of the car to the other to get the cooler out of the sun. Your rightfully ask, "So what?" Let me explain. At about 9:30 or 10 on Wednesday night I remembered I had left the garage door up about 10 inches to allow more air to circulate and cool the garage off. I poked my head out of the back door into the garage and pushed the button and closed the garage door. Still don't get it? Let me further explain. At approximately 10:50 on Wednesday evening, I went to bed. In about five minutes Pam remembered that she had not retrieved the blue ice blocks out of the cooler to put back into the freezer that stands in the corner of the garage. (Now its making sense isn't it?) Pam hollers back into the bedroom and asks me to put the blue ice in the freezer. I lovingly answered back, "No, I'll do it in the morning. I'll put them in when I go the walk the dogs about 6:30." "Never mind," she said. "I'll do it myself." I think to myself, "cool." I heard the back door to the garage open, in about ten seconds I hear the worst scream I've ever heard Pam scream and she comes running into the house yelling "there's a rattlesnake in the garage." She has definitely seen and\or heard something. At the scream I had jumped up and ran toward her but now with the news I'm hearing I run back to the bedroom. No, not to hide under the covers, although the idea had crossed my mind. I had to put on my glasses and some clothes. The glasses were to see whatever it was I had to do battle with and the clothes in case whatever I do battle with wins. I didn't want the paramedics to get grossed out or laugh so hard at a nearly naked preacher that they drop him off the stretcher going to the ambulance. As soon as I walk into the garage it is obvious that it is a rattlesnake, the rattle is unmistakable and I see it's tail rattling out from behind a bag of mulch. Pam has shut and locked the door leading back inside. It's me and the snake now. I am running on adrenaline. I went across the garage and grabbed my hoe. I now regret getting the fifteen dollar hoe made in China instead of the twenty-nine dollar hoe made in Pennsylvania. It has no sharp edge. Should I opt for my driver or another golf club. I'm a twenty-two handicapper. I stick with the edgeless, Chinese hoe. (OK, guys, enough about me going out with a Chinese hoe) I reach out with the hoe and pull the bag of mulch over and reveal the snake. It's bigger than I thought it would be from just looking at the rattlers earlier. It's fat, too, and I'm guessing a little over two feet. It doesn't "stand-up" but it cocks it's agitated neck as I position my hoe over its head. Whack! In the neck about six inches off. Whack, whack! and its over. I finish severing the head and see a lot more blood than I expected. I knock on the door. "Who is it?" "Who do you think it is?....." In taking the thirty inch snake out to the ditch, a recently eaten rat falls out of the snake. That explains the blood and how fat the now disposed of snake appeared. I throw rat and snake out and go clean up the blood in the garage. Pam lets me in and believe it or not, neither of us is sleepy. We access the night's happenings with some of these conclusions. I will not leave the garage door up again no matter how hot it is. I will invest in a twenty-nine dollar hoe. I will sharpen both hoes. I will probably, for a while anyway, go into the garage and get anything Pam wants. I hate snakes. I almost hesitate to to mention this in light of the horrendous things happening in our world, even to true Christ-followers who are endangered for their faith because of where they live. But I truly believe God watched over us last night. Pam stepped within about two feet of the snake when she went to the freezer. Had the cooler with the blue ice been on the driver's side instead of where she moved it to the passenger side, she would have walked right upon the demon. Had I gone out to the car myself to put the blue ice in the freezer, I would probably have not turned on the light at all and walked right up with a quicker, and to a snake, more threatening pace to the place where it was digesting its prey. The fact that it had just eaten probably slowed it down some, too. Bad things happen to both good and bad people and I know Christians that have been bitten by rattlesnakes, but not by that three foot monster last night and I am truly thankful. So, remember, life does come at you fast, even beyond insurance commercials, so be ready. Life is fragile, so handle with prayer. I believe less and less in coincidence but in a God who protects and when He doesn't it is for a greater purpose and glory. When the films of our lives are rewound and shown in glory I suspect we will be amazed at how many times, unknown to us, God protected us, even by simple moves like a cooler moved the other side of the car. Now let me say this, if a rattlesnake makes it way into your life, don't call me, one five footer is enough! Cos

Playing Catch

2010-07-12T08:05:00.000-07:00

Do kids these days ever play catch with their dads? Obviously, they still do but you don't seem to see it much. The boys and girls play a lot more games than we did when I was growing up. I think our little league team played twelve, maybe fourteen games during the summer. Now days they have leagues organized from tee-ball to regular season to select leagues. With so many leagues and so many games do the kids get much time with just playing catch with their dads? One of the most poignant scenes from the 1989 movie "Field of Dreams" was when Ray Kinsella's dad shows up on the magical field. There are some obvious hurts from the past that were never resolved before Ray's dad died. Ray asks his dad, John, "do you want to have a catch?" For a few minutes they play catch. I understood that moment. There is something about occupying the same turf, and concentrating on the same sphere with the intent to snatch it from the air like an escaping dream, and then voluntarily sending that sphere back that brings connection like few things in life can. With each throw coming at you, you get to prove you're good enough, big enough, skilled enough to handle it. With each throw you fling away you are proving to yourself and your dad that you can be on target. And the idea renews itself every few seconds. With a game of catch two generations are brought together in the same moment. The old man gets to impart some wisdom of "how to" to the younger generation. In time, if the pair keeps playing catch year after year the young one can show the old one "what he's got" and the old one can show the young one "he's still got it" himself. But mostly its about the connection, the connection that grows with each silent throw and catch as if the ball were a needle pulling some invisible thread between the two players. The simple act of playing catch draws each one to the other as they participate in a game that is bigger than both of them but can be enjoyed on even a small patch of dirt in the backyard. The best times of catch are mostly silent with just the rhythmic "pop" of each one's glove. "Pop"...silence... "pop." "Pop"....silence...."pop."Some throws are hard, some are easy. Some throws are on target and some way off. Most are caught but some are missed. Sometimes an easy throw is dropped and at times a great catch is made of one that should have been missed. Life itself is like that, too. Occasionally, right in the middle of catch, the son or daughter may even ask a question about life, its' whys and wherefore's. It's a good time to talk a little and learn a lot. At some point the younger will eventually surpass the elders skill whether it is from athletic ability or simply age and strength ebbing in one and rising in the other. The wise ones will absorb the change and keep on pitching and catching. One day the younger will find himself gearing down quite a lot so as not to hurt the elder, much like the elder did when the younger was a toddler. Hopefully, by then the connections are so strong that they can find a different way to catch each other's hopes, dreams, and fears that once flew back and forth into each other's glove. But do dads play catch with their kids much anymore? Probably not enough, the kids have too many games and Dad works too many hours. There's a sadness to that which once was but now is lost but the saddest part is that some were too busy or too blind to ever have it in the first place. With so many games, so many leagues, so many practices do kids ever connect with their dads by simply playing catch? Perhaps God wonders the same about all of us to whom He has been pitching truth for years only to see us too busy to grasp it, handle it, and throw it back just in order to connect with Him. One day He may bring the high heat, will we know how to handle it? Cos

Connie, Did You Have a Good Life?

2010-07-06T07:51:00.000-07:00

I literally hadn't thought of Connie Stubblefield in probably forty years. But Mom sent some old yearbooks home by son Clay when he was here visiting recently. She said to keep them but not throw them away as she would take them back if I didn't want them. I kept them. I looked up ancient pictures of my classmates but oddly, remembered the ones who weren't there. I remembered David my good friend from early grades, actually only two. But we remained good friends through high school and kept up with each other through college. But he wasn't in those year books. I remembered Daryl Wayne. Daryl had a playground accident when we were in the fifth grade. He hit his head on some concrete during some rough play. The blow caused a clot, the clot swelled the brain and he remained in comatose state for three years until his death. Daryl wasn't in the yearbook either. Philip Becker wasn't there. His family moved to Ennis so they could attend St. John's Catholic school after about the sixth grade. We kept in touch through sports until I lost track of Philip after high school. He was probably the nicest and smartest of the bunch. Well, maybe David, too. Then there was Connie. Connie started the first grade with all of us. She was different in some ways but all of us were in our own ways I guess. Connie had skin that was different than the rest of us. She wasn't black, she wasn't Hispanic, but her skin was darker. I heard later someone say she had an "olive" complexion. I thought olive was green and Connie wasn't green so that didn't make sense to me then. Connie was also poorer, I think. She lived with her grandmother. That also made her different back then. I seem to recall she had a little brother, but I'm not sure. Her mother would show up on occasion for some big event at school. I never knew nor was it my place to know what was going on with her family. If I ever knew the particulars of Connie's family situation I couldn't really say for sure but they would have been wasted on a six or eight or ten year old like me anyway. Her grandmother didn't speak much English if my memory serves me correctly. She looked like Mother Teresa, covered head and all. She was old and slow and I remember thinking Connie may be taking care of her grandmother more than grandmother is taking care of her. Connie may have been pretty, I just don't know. She didn't have anyone to work with her on those sorts of things. I think she was thin, had pointed features and something called high cheek bones. I never thought of Connie as pretty-never thought she was ugly. She was kind of a tom-boy and liked baseball. When you know someone at age 6 until just before puberty awakens new realms of reality, well, Connie was just Connie. I'd see her for nine months of the year for five days a week, only once or twice during the summer at a baseball game or the store, and no where else. Then after our eighth grade year, I think, it could have been seventh, something happened. I can't recall if her grandmother got too old and sick to keep them or if circumstances changed with her mother, but Connie left Milford and I never saw or heard from her again. When those old yearbooks showed up I saw old classmates' pictures and I remembered the ones not there. So, did you have a good life Connie Stubblefield? Did your mother show you how to put on make-up and dress like a lady? Did you finish high school and maybe college and get a good job? Did you have a career, a family, a divorce? Did you come to know Christ? Did you get to have little money and maybe travel some? Did you ever go back to Milford and did you look in your old yearbooks and wonder whatever happened to those people not in yours that you left in Milford? I lost track of Connie. No, that implies I tried to keep track. School ended. Connie left like every summer only when it started up again in August, she wasn't there and I never thought too much about it. That is a bit sad, maybe a lot sad. People drop in and drop out of our lives. They can be there for a long time and then gone. That's the way it is and we don't think much about it but if we stop long enough to think about it, we find something gnawing away at our souls leaving the impression that the way it is is not necessarily the way it should be. I suppose this gnawing is really a fear that maybe we are the ones who have been lost in life's shuffle. God, do you know where I am? Do you know what I've been doing? Do you remember my name? But God's word assures: O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Psalm 139: 1-3 Connie, I hope you lived and laughed and loved. Mostly I hope you know this God who knows you. He never lost you for a moment. Cos

Note to the Vocal Majority

2010-07-06T07:49:00.000-07:00

Dear VM, Thank-you for solving a modern mysterty as to where those crazy French ice skating judges went after being kicked out of the rink. Now we know............... Cos

A Cry From the Gulf

2010-06-21T12:05:00.000-07:00

What Do The Tall Trees Say? What do the tall trees say To the havoc in the sky. They sigh. The air moves, and they sway When the breeze on the hill Is still, then they stand still. They wait. They have no fear. Their fate Is faith. Birdsong Is all they've wanted , all along. Wendell Berry I find myself writing about events for which I have no adequate words. Last week, wildflowers, this week folly. The gulf oil spill could be described with every negative adjective in the dictionary and none of them would be strong enough to convey the loss, betrayal, pain, and suffering inflicted from the ocean depths to the kitchen tables of ordinary folks who happened to make their living from the gulf waters. A new "verb" is even emerging from the disaster, "BPed." This is used when the negligence and irresponsibility of others cost you dearly. Those eleven workers who lost their lives after the blowout and subsequent fire on the oil rig were really "BPed." Humans tend to look to lay blame when disasters fall and trouble rings our doorbell. There is plenty to go around in this one as well. There were supervisors who ignored engineers warnings. There were managers who preached safety but kept pushing to keep drilling and moving forward. There were executives who said all the right things publicly but fostered an industry culture of turning a blind eye if delays would translate into costly overruns on projects. There was arrogance from top to bottom in thinking that when all was said and done, everything would turn out okay and no one would know a few corners were cut. Now everyone knows and everyone will pay, but not as much as the eleven and their families, followed by the lives lost in the marine and animal kingdoms and the humans who live and work in the gulf. We will all pay for this one. Does the gulf not cry out to us begging us to listen? Does the spewing well vomiting its dark poison not paint a metaphor of the natural consequences and the human heart's condition when arrogance and greed are the driving forces of our lives? So what are we to hear? What does the gulf say to us in her fear, in her frustration, in her death struggle? She reminds what God has already taught us: We live in a broken world. Sin has broken this world. We discount this truth to our own peril. Romans 8:20-22 informs us the "the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God." Look at the words, frustration, bondage, decay. We see this in every earthquake, every flood, tornado or hurricane. From the introduction of sin by man into this good earth that God created there has been pain, frustration, bondage, and decay that leads to death. Our world is broken. But there is another cry from the gulf of a related brokenness. The gulf and every other clod of dirt, breath of air or drop of water that has been touched by man knows also that it is inhabited by broken people. We too are fallen and if we can't see it in the world around us maybe we can sense it in our hearts. Made in the image of God we can imagine, conquer, dream, and create many new and wonderful things. But even the best advances are, or can be tainted with the stain of sin. God told Adam in Genesis 2 to take care of the Garden, rule over the earth and subdue it. Yet, despite all the good wrought in our rule and subjugation there is the pain it causes. Electricity yields light, heat, cool, progress and the occasional electrocution. Automobiles opened the country, joined sections, opened markets, provided jobs and united families. And yes, they kill thousands in accidents every year. Medicine saves lives by the millions but occasionally a mistake is made or a bad reaction is introduced. Oil production in the gulf has been safe, produced thousands of jobs and elevated a way of life. Yet, when broken people ignore protocols, circumvent safety procedures and dismiss chunks of rubber coming up from the blowout preventor on the wellhead, then unparalleled disaster follows. And it has been the history of mankind that there are always people ignoring God's calls, circumventing His will, and dismissing His Son as Savior that leads to personal and corporate disaster. In arrogance men try to rule other men, enslaving not only the body the ideas and ideals of those more noble. War then breaks out, pestilence, famine, and disease follow. We often have received more than we needed but developed a thirst for even more: more cars, more clothes, more entertainment, more food. This lust for more produced a greater dependence on oil, that fetches a grand price that other men are willing to do anything to produce and we all with sin-broken hearts and minds, now have oil on our hands and the gulf of Mexico on our conscience. Then we start the whole blame game anew and "they" and "them" become the culprit as we try to hide again our own brokenness. If I could cry back to the gulf with words she could understand I'd somehow convey that I'm sorry. I'm sorry my appetites fed others appetites that fed greed and produced more arrogance. I'd tell her that there is hope. There is hope because God remains. He remains faithful and sovereign. He lets us face our consequences but is ever near to help if we but repent and are willing to listen and follow. I'd tell her also that God redeems. He redeems the repentant heart that turns to His Son for salvation and will one day even redeem His creation that we broke. The picture of the new heaven and new earth is a picture of redemption. In Revelation 22: 1-6 there is the word picture of joy-filled streams and healing trees. Those streams that make glad the city of God surely are filled with His whole and healthy sea creatures. And those trees that produce the healing for all nations in their monthly bearing of fruit must surely be nourished by the wholeness of the earth made new and right again. God help us to hear the cry of the gulf and hear Your cry to our hearts to seek Your healing for both. Cos

The Living Word

2010-06-15T12:38:00.000-07:00

Jim called us to come out to the ranch one evening. The calendar said mid-to-late spring but anyone who's lived in Texas very long knew it was almost summer. Usually when Jim calls its because he needs my help with some economic theory he is teaching to future presidents and senators. Sometimes he calls for help with a speech he has to give before the governor or ex-presidents and other power brokers. Well, okay, Jim doesn't need help with any of that, especially from me. I guess he calls because he's nice. But this evening he had something he wanted to show us so we went.

The wildflowers of Texas had put on a great show in the pastures and alongside the roads this spring. It may not have been the absolute best year but it was nonetheless an outstanding year for flowers. Jim had some on his place he wanted to show us. Pam's back was out of whack and she couldn't make the trip in the ATV Mule to the pasture but I went along for the ride. We drove along about five or six minutes from the house with Jim twisting and turning the Mule on- road, then off-road then no road until there it was: Acres and acres of wildflowers stretching out before us. I hesitate to even begin to attempt to describe the scene. Words will do little good and no justice to the wild beauty before us. The sun was low on the horizon casting its evening glow to the hues it illuminated. There were enough shadows from scrubby mesquite and oaks to break up the palette of the colors waving before us. The colors were intense to delicate, dark to light- browns, blues, purples, reds, yellows, oranges, greens, whites, and combinations the old 64 pack of crayons couldn't match.

It was impossible to drink it all in. Jim would move the atv and face it in another direction and the flowers would reveal more of their beauty. As the sun sank lower they seemed to flirt with us, raising their skirts to reveal even more. And if the myriad shapes and colors weren't enough, when we were downwind the smell was all but overpowering. I've seen more intense and profuse thickets of wildflowers but never this many different kinds, this many colors, with this much fragrance in one field.

Then Jim asked, "What's that scripture Jesus said about King Solomon in all his glory...? Yeah, what is that scripture?" We nailed it to Matthew 6 but we couldn't recall the verses. Turns out that it is verses 28-30. "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?"

It hit me that Jim hadn't driven me out into one of his pastures, he had driven me back 2,000 years into the scriptures. Matthew 6:28-30 was alive before us. Jesus had observed the same things two millennia ago and taught the faithlessness of worry and pointed out the care, concern, and provision of God to those around him. He used Jim, a mule, a sunset and a field of flowers to teach the same lesson. At that moment I believe I got it. For that moment, the Bible passage was alive or at least I was living it.

I knew I shouldn't have tried it when I started. There's no way a person of my limited ability could capture in words what I saw that evening. I took pictures but my cell phone camera didn't do it justice. You had to see it and even with your imagination I guarantee you will miss something. It did make me wonder, can other scriptures also come alive? Maybe that's how they are meant to be when we walk into a store, a room, a business, a stadium, a heart or even a field of wildflowers, the Spirit of God takes the word of God and it is suddenly alive and real like never before.

I'll work on a few. You work on a few. Let's compare notes.......

Cos

The Puppy in the Corner

2010-06-08T13:58:00.001-07:00

Ron Lee Davis in his book A Forgiving God in an Unforgiving World tells this story: Walking by a pet shop on his way to school, a young boy stopped and stared through the window. Inside were four black puppies playing together. After school, he ran home and pleaded with his mother to let him have one of the puppies. "I'll take care of it, Mom, I will. If you can just give me an advance on my allowance, I'll have enough money to buy one with my own money. Please, Mom, please!?" The mother, knowing full well the complications of having a new puppy in the busy household, nevertheless, could not resist her son. "Okay, you can get the puppy, but I will expect you to take care of it." "Yes, Mom, I will." Filled with excitement, the little boy ran to the pet shop to buy his new puppy. After determining that he indeed had enough money, the pet shop owner brought him to the window to choose his puppy. After a few minutes, the young boy said, "Umm... I'll take the little one in the corner." "Oh no," said the shop owner,"not that one, he's crippled. Notice how he just sits there; something is wrong with one of his legs, so he can't run and play like the rest of the puppies. Choose another one." Without saying a word, the boy reached down, pulled up his pant leg to expose a chrome brace to the owner. "No," he said firmly, "I'll take the puppy in the corner." When we read that story, we all tend to identify with the puppy in the corner. It doesn't matter how good looking we are, are healthy we are, how successful we've been or how many achievements we accomplished, we know about being that puppy in the corner. Here's the good news of grace: God knows what it is like to be the little boy doing the choosing. I'm not implying that God isn't perfect as the little boy's leg wasn't but listen to scripture from Isaiah 53:4, "Surely, He took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." And again from Hebrews 4:15, "we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses..." Like the little boy in Davis' story, God knows and God still chose---you. God likes underdogs. Wandering Semitics (Abraham), loser shepherds (Moses), lying prostitutes(Rahab), skinny rock-throwing little brothers (David), weepy prophet(Jeremiah), impetuous fishermen (Peter, John, James) and a religious terrorist (Paul) all found their place in the grace of God despite brokenness of heart or mind or soul. More good news, we in the church get to go out look for crippled puppies and pick them in the name of Jesus. Who's in the corner of your life who needs someone to look over and say, "I choose this one." All we with bent legs or bent hearts know what it is like to be left out so let's stick together and get picking. For what causes the world with its love affair with glitz and glamour and success to not pick some is the very reason that Jesus does. You gotta love puppy-pickin' grace. Cos

I've Been Gone

2010-05-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I've been away. I've been away in every way except physically. So, I didn't write, which was wrong. Why, you ask? No, you don't ask, I do. I was tired after Easter. It was all good stuff, too good, too much. I went through a lot of motions after Easter, especially the "e" one. But I made no writing motions. I was tired. I was lazy. I was busy with the next big thing at church. I was planning to, but I never did. So I never wrote about how Jim Griffin made Matthew 6:28-34 literally come to life late one Saturday evening on his ranch. I should have. I never wrote that little thought on the magnetized cross. It was kinda silly. Maybe I'll be drawn back to it someday. I had a few thoughts inspired by Casting Crown's "Caught in the Middle" but the thoughts never left the center of my brain. It was the same for an essay called "That's Church to Me." Like many, I just skipped it. There was the "All I Need is Jesus" essay. I was going to like that one. But if He was all I needed then I didn't need to write about it. I had a few thoughts on gambling and our state gov't wanting to look at it for a revenue stream. I guess they want Texas to be rich and prosperous like Mississippi and Louisana, New Jersey and Nevada. I decided that one was too risky to pen (for now). Funny, or sad, or silly? I don't know. I don't know if I can get them back. I don't know if I can rediscover the curiosity, the passion, the whimsy, the fuel to ignite the thoughts into story. Has that every happened to you? Cos

He Had to Go

2010-03-24T07:26:00.000-07:00

God looked. He looked into humanity's past. He looked into humanity's future. It was all the same to Him... Timeless present of the Eternally Timeless. There once was a farmer. Three dozen years had yielded thirty-two crops--some good, some bad, some horrible, some great, and some not at all. The last two failed and he was finished. Worn out, ground down, and hard up...he was too tired, too broke, and too sad to farm anymore. The droughts, floods, freezes, heat waves, insects, government programs, and clueless bankers would have to find someone else to persecute. He was done. That winter seemed especially cold and long. It seemed to go nowhere and have no purpose. Gradually, the winter chill gave way to the warming earth of spring. A breeze blew the smell of newly turned earth from the next farm over to his nose and he knew. He knew the call of the earth. He felt it in his bones more than heard it in his ears, but he knew. He had to go..... Everyone called him "Coach." Some of the younger kids didn't even know his name. For a score minus two he had "coached 'em up." There were more wins than losses, a few more anyway. There were even a couple of deep runs into the playoffs. Some years ago, he wasn't exactly sure when, he relaxed. He worked just as hard, screamed just as loudly, and drew x's and o's incessantly looking for the perfect play, but he relaxed. It happened as he gradually saw a bigger picture no scoreboard could tally. This picture was painted with the colors of values, discipline, teamwork, and sacrifice. He finally saw the kids and he loved them. Most of the time it was a winning picture, but even if it wasn't it was still a good season. The kids in the program knew this, especially after graduation. But the booster club president and two board members had kids coming into the program next year. They were used to winning Period. And so the the coach who saw beyond the W's, well, he had to go...... All she ever wanted to be was wife and mother, until she became one. Those slow, wet, deep kisses and eager hands that sought her had also awakened such longings in her a year ago were either a memory or a menace now. The thoughts of giving life and sustaining life with children now seemed to steal all the life right out of her. The boss demanded her time and creativity. The husband seemed to demand her body and her paycheck. The church wanted their piece of her and the kids wanted everything. She felt like a commodity being traded on the floor of some human stock exchange. She wanted peace, she needed peace, she craved respect, she longed for love. Lately, she thought she saw something kind in the way one of her co-workers looked at her. He suggested a couple of glasses of wine after work one day. All she knew was she had to go...... He knew when he signed that other piece of paper that this one would show up one day. It could have come even sooner. How long has it been now, ten months? When he signed on he was restless, curious, a little angry at life, somewhat confused and needing direction. Now he has a career, now he has a speciality; he has responsibility and discipline; he even has a title to go with this new piece of paper: his orders. The only word that registers with him is "Afghanistan." He knew it was coming, halfway hoping it would come. Now it has. He's ready. He's trained. He is part of a team. He's going to do the right thing for his country, his momma, his sister and freedom lovers everywhere. He whistles in the dark. Each war has its rights and wrongs, its justices and injustices. He will discover in time his own opinions on his war. All he knows now is that he has the papers and they tell him, he has to go...... His passion and fire is what drew them to him in the first place. He probably should have been with a younger congregation. He was young himself, not yet 35 years old. He had a lot to learn about the way things ran, especially at such a prestigious, old, and large church. But he was gifted in the pulpit, maybe too gifted. The problem came when the church fathers discovered he meant what he preached. He preached hard truths that needed to be heard. He loved Christ passionately and that made the lovers of lessor idols uncomfortable. The pastor was humble in the presence of Christ and bold in the face of sin, especially the so-called respectable ones. The elders tried to bring him along with the comforts they could afford to give him. The sonofagun just kept giving more money to the church and more of his stuff to the poor. The elders agreed when they met how much they admired him in some ways. But the bottom line was, he had to go....... The Son looked. He saw the garden and He saw the gate--locked. He saw the temple and the big curtain--closed. He saw the farmer, the wife, the coach, the soldier, the pastor and everyone else. He saw their rebellion and brokenness; He saw their hopes and dreams, their darkness and futility; he saw pain and aloneness. He saw all they had and all they had lost. He looked around the splendors of heaven and saw an emptiness only He could see. Mostly He saw the cross and He knew, He knew what it meant, more than anyone ever would or could know. But mostly He knew this.....He had to go. And so He did. He who was timeless, enters time that we who weren't guiltless, might enter eternity. Now we can go, Cos

God and My Golf Game

2010-03-16T12:52:00.000-07:00

God and golf should not be spoken of by me in the same sentence. If you watched me play you would swear there is no God. With me, it is not that there is no God, there just is no golf---game that is. Following is how my walk with God and golfing go together: Tee Time: What a great day! God your creation is magnificent! Can you believe the beauty? And we get to be out in it. It's going to be a great day to tool around the course and enjoy all this.... First Shot: Well, it's a little off but I think I can find it, and maybe even play it. I'm just glad to be out here with you guys. God just wants me to stay focused... First Par Three: Well that's not too bad, just off the green ten yards... a good chip and put and I've got a par, at worst a two put for a bogey..... Three chips and two puts later... "Six!" God is just testing me to see if I'll stay sweet and in control... Par Five: Great drive... I might as well go for it in two, especially after that triple bogey. "Whack... Cut! Cut! Cut! Splash!. Oh well, two in, four out. That's okay. I'll hit up on the green and one put for a par. ..Three chips and two puts later...Eight! I hate this game and a Christian didn't invent it and no real Christian can play it! Twelfth Hole: Job couldn't have felt this bad. God has sent his buzzards to harass me. My pitching wedge is demon possessed. It needs to be exorcised. Rob Tennison says it is getting plenty of exercise. God, save Rob. Fifteenth Hole: I'm not sure God exists. The wind is too high and always blows in my face. It's too cold on the front nine and it feels like hell on this side. Why would anyone subject himself to this torture? I need a psychiatrist. My hand is cramping and the muscles in my back are as tight as Bob Kruse's purse strings. If I believed any longer in God I'd pray for the rapture right now. Yes, I got another triple! Eighteenth Hole: Just get me out of this. God if you exist and you can hear me, just let me get out of here with no more embarrassment, I promise I'll never try this hell-spawned game again...This drive wasn't too bad...I'm just going to close my eyes and swing easy...''whack"... wow look at that ball go....look, it's on the green... I don't have to chip... I can two put for a par, three put for a bogey! Great shot! Yeah thanks, ok. What? Sunday after church? Sure, I'll be here......... Hope springs eternal and hell is persistent and the rise and fall of my Christianity begins again....... Cos

But His Name is On My License

2010-03-16T12:12:00.000-07:00

Two pastors I know died within about three weeks of each other. One was expected in a way. Bill Wright had been fighting cancer for a while. He was a larger than life character but not larger than cancer. I had heard his days were numbered but I actually didn't hear of his passing for about ten days after the fact. Bill was known for his huge love of Jesus expressed to people and through missions. If you heard him speak to people on the street or in the hall at a conference, "preacher" is the last thing you'd think of. That's one reason I loved the guy. You really weren't special until Bill called you "Dummy" or "Moron." I know that sounds bad but you loved him for it. If I called someone Moron they would want to hit me. If Bill did, you wanted to hug him. Literally thousands were impacted by his ministry of missions, especially to Mexico, on the Texas border, and through disaster relief trucks that he led his church and the state Baptist convention to man and expand. Not surprised but saddened was my reaction when I heard of his death. Another mold was broken... Wayne Oglesby's death was a shock. He was the pastor I had for the last year and a half of my high school days. He was only seven years older than I was. We hung out a lot my last year of high school and the Lord used him to help gentle me toward ministry. He was a good preacher. He was fun. He was thoughtful. He and Lynn took me to my first broadway play. They put up with my dropping by too often. He took me on excursions to the bible bookstore and to my first evangelism conference. When the call came to ministry after graduation from high school, I was ready to hear it largely because of Wayne. When the call came that he had hung himself in the garage I was not prepared to hear that at all. Surpised and saddened and un-nerved was my reaction when I heard he had ended his own life. Wayne had suffered with depression for some time I was told. I would have been too young to notice at 17 or 18 if he had those troubles then. I do know he'd get really down when he considered his own dad's death as a relatively young man. Wayne's last churches before he went to work as a hospice\funeral home chaplain didn't go very well. I don't know all the stories, I just know it was tough. Did the tough churches lead to deeper depression? Did depression make it hard to pastor these churches? I don't know. But his name is on the bottom of my license to the ministry and I was only one of thousands he impacted positively with his life even as depression was eating his life away like an acid. Could I get that depressed seven years from now when I'm 62? I hurt for the two widows, the kids and grandkids. One family hurting for all the right reasons we hurt when someone we love dies. Another family hurts way too soon with way too many questions. I hope and pray God brings peace to both and look forward to the time when cancer and depression take their rightful place-- in the darkest corner of hell. Lord, will you still need me, will you still feed me when I'm 62? I'll need You. Cos

The Mess of the Story

2010-03-01T11:54:00.000-08:00

Defend him all you want, say what you will, but wherever Jesus went he seems to have made a mess of things. So you disagree? Then kindly explain these things declared in the Bible which show how Jesus left a mess in his wake. I suppose one might find ground for argument that he messed up the stable in which he was born but look at it from the animal's point of few. Jesus turned their nice cave-barn into a nursery. Who really knows if it was fit to be used as a stable after that? But there are better examples of Jesus littering the grounds upon which he walked. He calls disciples Peter and Andrew, James and John (Mark 1) and immediately there is a problem to be cleaned up involving abandoned boats and rotting fishing nets. Who's going to take care of that mess? Jesus doesn't take too many more steps and he calls a tax collector named Levi to follow him as well. And guess what? Now there is a tax booth, (precursor to the toll booth?) table, chair, ledgers, stylus and other office supplies left just blowing in the wind. Another mess. He was just getting started. He takes his motley crew to a wedding and turns about 150 gallons of water into wine (John 2). What are you suppose to do with that much wine at the end of a party? Just another mess Jesus leaves among the dozens recorded. There were old, leprous clothes that were discarded and had to be burned after Jesus passed by their former owners. There were broken chains and ripped garments of a man who used to provide the home for many demons (Mark 5) now littering the Garesean hillsides. Crutches thrown aside and mats where the blind and lame used to sit now gather dust. And again, what were the people to do with the coffin and death shroud of the widow of Nain's son (Luke 7) when Jesus raised him from the dead? Just keep following this guy: cages get overturned, money scattered, tables broken and knocked over at the courtyard of women in the temple when he ran the business men out from the women's place of prayer; an empty perfume flask that held expensive perfume from Mary when she poured it on Jesus' feet; and who was going to fix the roof when those friends of the lame guy tore up the roof tiles to let him down from the roof for Jesus to heal? And you can't tell me that only12 guys could clean up properly after Jesus fed 5000 one time and 4000 another time, I don't care how many basketfulls of food they picked up! The list just keeps growing---used palm branches, a crown of thorns, death clothes left in the tomb--everywhere Jesus went you could see the result of his having been there. He truly made a mess of things! Follow him and you will find a debris field of old lives, old ways, former hurts, former ailments, lost days, lost hopes, and death's rags scattered to kingdom come. Would to God that He would make a mess of my life! Cos

Making a Mess of Ash Wednesday

2010-02-17T12:17:00.000-08:00

How did a former Baptist pastor end up in this mess? Well, he created it. By the time I was finished with my assignment I had gathered an aluminum roasting pan, a can of vegetable oil spray, a bottle of charcoal lighter fluid, a hand-held propane lighter, an eight pound Jr. high shot put, a screwdriver, a pair of left-handed scissors, a plastic baggie, and a half dozen dried palm branches. It started simple enough- keep the palm branches from last year's Palm Sunday service to be dried and burned to make ashes for anointing those wishing to participate in an Ash Wednesday service. I had no previous experience with doing this. Last year's Ash Wednesday was my first. I sought the advice and help of a retired Disciples of Christ minister in our church who is on top of nearly everything. He went to a friend who lent him some ashes our service. I thought that added meaning to the term 'lent.' This year we would make our own ashes from our own palm branches. Progress. So I find myself in the garage this morning. Its thirty-seven degrees in there. I have a roasting pan to burn the branches in. I did an internet search and found an entry stating that spray vegetable oil worked well. I backed my pick-up out of the garage. I cut a few dried leaves and dropped them into the pan, sprayed them with a little oil and placed them at the opening of the garage. It was protected from the wind but far enough back to provide good circulation-I thought. So I put the lighter to them. Fizzle. It's not lighting. Okay, go get some lighter fluid. I pour some of that on the leaves and whomp, its burning. Man is it ever burning. Are those gas cans for the mower over there? I can see tomorrow's headline 'White Bluff Volunteer Fire Dept. Chaplain burns own house down...' Why isn't the smoke going out? Finally it dies down. Hey, this doesn't look too bad. The ashes are kinda long and stringy. What did that guy on the internet say? Oh, yeah you have to crush them. With what? I'll use the butt of a screwdriver. So on my work bench I get to crushing ashes with the butt of a screwdriver. It is taking forever. I'll just use my hand. That worked much better but most of the ashes stay on my hand. I get one teaspoon of ashes and drop them in a baggy. Second round. More branches this time, cut into smaller pieces. I use a little more vegetable oil and a lot less lighter fluid. Closer to the door this go 'round and farther from the lawn mower gas and a little whomp later I'm in business. This batch looks more promising. But what can I crush these ashes with? My hand is great but messy; the screwdriver is ok but slow. I know, I'll get one of my shot puts and roll it on the burned up branches. Viola! So I'm rolling out ashes thinking I'm probably breaking some ecclesiastical laws and I'm watching for the Orthodoxy Police and the fire department when I see all this stuff I've pulled out. What a unholy mess! Then it hits me-I'm my own metaphor. I'm trying to do this religious stuff, I'm not sure how and I'm not very good at it. I'm getting it done in one manner of speaking but I've made a mess of things in the meantime. Who shall rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Rom. 7:25) In a few hours people will come and hear an Ash Wednesday message. They will receive the sign of the cross on their foreheads from my thumb and from my DOC friend. They won't know about my messes either with living life or in making ashes. Some will come out of habit, some will come out of curiosity, some will come to try and make a connection with God again. Some will come and who knows why, but come they will. They will hear an explanation of the history and meaning behind Ash Wednesday. They will hear me say that it doesn't make God love them any more if they receive the ashes or any less if they don't. They will hear me say the Bible no where tells people to fast on this day but they will hear me be pro-fast if in giving up some daily, ordinary habit they can then turn their attention to the extraordinary Christ and think more of Him. They will hear me say that there is nothing which will give you more power with God by taking the Ashes but maybe if you stop and reflect enough you may better understand the power from God you've already been given. They will hear me say that nothing in this ritual adds to our salvation but if remembering our mortality and repenting of those weights in life that so easily entangle us (Heb. 12:1) somehow enables us to walk more with our God in humility and devotion ,then receive the ashes. They won't know that of all the services of our year that this one causes me to tremble and humbles more than any other. I feel so unworthy to be making the sign of a cross on these saints. It is I who need to live behind that cross. It is almost too intimate, too close with eyes too searching and hearts too open. It's a Presence I can hardly bear and maybe that is why I need it more than they. Finally they will hear me say to not let the cross of ritual on the forehead keep them from the more important work of this Lenten season: to take stock--to remember to whom they belong and to to whom they answer--to reflect on the relationship they have with Jesus and to not just check off another box of keeping the rules. I will tell them to fall in love again with Jesus and leave off anything that deadens or douses Loves flames. They will hear me tell them that when, at the end of the day, and they wash off the smudge I've placed on the foreheads, to remember that it is much harder to wash off the smudge in the heart. It takes the blood of Jesus to do that. Ash Wednesday 2010 Cos

Saints Alive!

2010-02-08T07:37:00.000-08:00

Who Dat dun wan da Soupr Bol? Ya, it be da Saints. I'm happy for the New Orleans Saints on several levels. One, it was just a good, enjoyable football game. It had big plays, bobbles, hard hitting, momentum shifts and just about any thing you could want in a football game, unless you are a fan of the Colts. I personally thought Peyton Manning would find a way to win that game but the Saints were just too much. Some say it was destiny. After seeing Drew Brees with his infant son (that was good thinking to put ear protection on the little boy) and the tears of joy, I may be a believer myself. Birthed the year after the first Super Bowl, the New Orleans Saints were a tough luck group. Their faithful had followed their beloved team for forty three years of frustration. I remember fans showing up with bags on their heads to not be seen watching the Saints. I remember them being called the 'Aint's. I recall Archie Manning, one of their earliest draftees, being one of the best scrambling quarterbacks in the history of the game mainly out of necessity. The Saints were the opponent for our Cowboys in the first professional game I'd see when my daddy sprung for tickets. We watched Dandy Don and the Cowboys handily whip the new guys from Louisiana (I did like their uniforms). I really didn't have a heavy emotional tie to either team last night. If I had been forced to pick a team to root for it would have been the Saints, mainly because of Darlene, our Cajun friend, who really wanted them to win it all. Any thing that gets Darlene talking Cajun I'm all for. And who doesn't like an underdog story? There is no guarantee that the Saints of today's football glory will be able to repeat as next year's football champs. In fact, the NFC has sent nine different teams to the last nine Super Bowls. But there is another group of saints you may also want to pull for, since most anyone who reads this is a part of that group. It turns out that this group of saints,the ones addressed in nearly all of Paul's and Peter's letters, plus another dozen or so times in the book of Revelation, has had its ups and downs for the past 2,000 plus years, not forty-three. It's ofttimes even harder than it was for the New Orleans faithful to keep up the hopes of victory for these other long-suffering saints. Last night's Saints said they believed in themselves even after falling behind by ten early on. The saints of whom I speak are the believers, the followers of Christ who remain faithful through the centuries to the Christ that they love and in whom they believe. We have allowed the word "saints" to take on more meaning than was intended by elevating the concept beyond the realm of every-day living for the cause of Christ and by the love of Christ. In the New Testament, these "saints" were the believers, the faithful who trusted Jesus for their eternal lives and lived their temporal ones for His glory. They were set aside not by their extreme acts of goodness or miracles but by their belief in the Risen Lord. They were told to expect hard times even to the point of death but were called to patient endurance and faithfulness (Rev. 13:10; 14:12). The end result of their faithful endurance would be a feast and celebration even New Orleans can't match (Rev. 19:1-10). So you saints of the Lord may have something in common with the Saints of New Orleans football fame but your victory will last longer, have more meaning, and result not just in the joy of an organization or a city, but the entire Kingdom of God. So remember, 'When the Saints Go Marching In' belongs to the Kingdom Saints, not the New Orleans ones. But is there hope for the Texas Rangers? I can't find them in scripture. Oh well........ Who Dat? We Dat! Da ones who go marchin' in......... Cos

Horror and Hope in Haiti

2010-01-19T07:52:00.000-08:00

I have been somewhat reluctant to write anything about Haiti. This is not because I've had no thoughts on the matter but because so many are writing on the subject with such profound insight and meaning that any thing I added may be superfluous. It is also true that my thoughts keep migrating back to Haiti even after putting down the newspaper or turning off the news. Two themes of thoughts keep recurring in my thinking. One is obviously the sheer horror of the quake and its magnitude on such an impoverished nation. The devastation of the quake is unspeakable enough but Haiti's ability to deal with the aftermath is almost non-existant. I use my imagination often to inject myself into other people's situations to try to link myself to their joys, pain, questions, feelings, fears and hopes. I hope this helps my prayers, empathies, and messages to them. But I am simply not able to make my imagination go to the horror so many people in Haiti must feel with the loss of loved ones, friends, and their homes. If you can believe that the whole earth behaves momentarily like an ocean wave then you get an idea (so I'm told) of what a major earthquake feels like. The solid earth lifts, curls, and crashes with liquidity reserved for large bodies of water. The infrastructure, such as it was, in Haiti could not handle the shift. But what really shifted was not just the earth but every one's tenuous balance on life that had been held up by the relationships, homes, routines, and what they considered normal. There will be a new normal in Haiti after this horror. That brings me to the other theme in addition to the horror. In the midst of this tragic loss there nonetheless is hope in Haiti. We see this in the world-wide outpouring of aid to this poor nation. We see the magnitude of effort being made to bring help through every humanitarian means possible. Governments, relief agencies, doctors, nurses, missionaries, and construction workers are mobilizing on a massive scale. We see the hope in the heroics of families searching for and uniting with families. Can you imagine the strength of hope that generated missionary Frank Thorp's odyssey to drive eight hours to Port Au Prince, find in all the rubble the building that had collapsed around his wife Jillian, and dig for three more hours and pull her out alive and well? Amazing. Can you imagine the strength of hope for the six year old in the grocery store that fell on him who discovered fruit roll ups within his reach and munched on them for five days? What did the two year old girl think about and how did she keep going for six days until she was found in the darkness and dust of what was one time home for her and her family? Stories like these are being told everyday of hope and help arising from the rubble of Haiti. We often hear, even from our own lips, questions to God of why? Why did you let.....Why don't you....Why didn't you stop...? They seem to come with each tsunami in the Pacific, tornado in Oklahoma, hurricane in the gulf and with earthquakes across the globe. Idiots say its God's judgement ignoring the scriptures that say judgement begins with the household of God (I Peter 417)and that we must all appear before the judgement seat of God (II Cor. 5:10)to give an account of each idle word and action (like the one where I called someone an idiot). These ignore the very words of Christ who just before His betrayal and death declared "Now is the time for judgement on the world; now the prince of this world will be driven out." (John 12: 21-32) A little humility will go along way in making statements about God's judgement. That is His business and He is the only One qualified to say and assess what is to be judged as to how and when. Even Jesus in His time on earth faced the occurrence of catastrophe in Luke 13:2. A tower had fallen killing eighteen people. We are not given the particulars regarding the tower as if it were in existence or was being constructed or if an earthquake or wind caused its destruction. Christ didn't answer all the "why" questions that must have surrounded this tragedy but he also made sure people understood it was not the judgement of God on eighteen people who were worse sinners than the rest either. He admonished the people of His day to be ready for terminal times through repentance. Do you ever wonder why we don't question God's grace and outpouring of blessings during good times the way we question Him during the horrific? Doesn't seem quite fair does it? Yet, in many, if certainly not all ways, God has answered the why questions. We see in the horror of Christ's cross that He is present with us and working redemption. We see in His promises of eternal life and heaven's accessibility through faith in Christ His answer to both our own brokenness and the world's. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoptions as sons, the redemption of our bodies. (Romans 8:22-24) His answer to a broken world is the promise of a new, whole one (Revelation 21:1). His answer to broken lives, broken by sin, guilt and ravaged by death, is new life in new bodies where sin is forgiven, guilt is removed and death has died. Meanwhile we groan. (II Cor. 5:2) The promise is not fulfilled in total, but it is secure. There is horror in Haiti, but there also is hope both temporal and eternal. Where is your hope today? Cos

But John, Denver is a Long, Long Way

2010-01-13T11:23:00.000-08:00

I don't know if my grandmother ever made it to Denver, but her bedroom is going. I know this because my son is leaving Austin and taking it there. That headboard, frame, slats, and nightstand are old, I'd guess at least 50 years, but sturdy. They were from Pop and Mamaw's guest room where I'd sleep when I went to spend the weekend as a kid. The wood is hard and the finish is white, even the slats are hard. It seems the wood was better then or at least things were better built. So Clay is off on a new adventure, even if a part of it is on antique furniture. It will be an adventure for Pam and I, too and we will miss him being just 2.5 hours away. It's more like 15 or 16 now. He is going to work on his masters degree up there. His job wasn't much of a job with no real prospects of advancing so he figured it was time to get another degree and really build a career. He is right, I just wish he were right right down the road. We didn't go to Austin as frequently as we probably could have and stay as long as we should have but the fact that we could go at almost the drop of a hat was nice. Austin seemed to fit Clay well. It had quirky places and people. He often swam in Barton Springs even in the winter and could ice skate in the middle of the summer. It has good live music and lots of hole-in-the-wall eateries that he loved and taught us to love, too. It was warm mostly. I've never been but I think that Denver is a bit colder. Oh, well, we gave him a coat for Christmas. The truth is that Austin is still only 2.5 hours away from us. The music will still be played, the funky joints with good food will still be serving. I still need to see the Bullock museum. But there will be less incentive to go that way now. Its all understandable and for a good reason, but a bit sad, too. But it was sad to watch Clay struggle with a dead-end job in an expensive city. It was tough to watch him work really hard knowing that there would be no immediate results from it. Some times you don't get to pick your sadness, it comes as it comes and you deal with it. So with Clay in Denver and Matt and his family (read grandson!) in Farmington, NM, Pam and I will be seeing new parts of the country we've not seen before. We will shop the Internet for discount tickets to places we'd hardly think about a year ago. No we can't jump in car and run to Austin with $40 in my pocket. We will save a little more and plan a little more before we take a trip. But we will because that's what love does. I guess the real adjustment for me is simply the distance. The possibility of getting to Clay in a short span if needed existed. No longer will it but we will do what millions of other families do in similar situations. I also have no doubt that they wish either openly or secretly that their loved ones were closer. Yes, I realize that distance is relative, pun intended. Thousands of people have the objects of their love scattered around the country and around the world. Thousands of them are currently in harm's way. The distance is the joy-stealer, the doubt-incubator, reaching-but-not-quite-grasping shadow that throws its dimness on even bright reunions. Life has its shadows and one learns to deal with them. I heard about another shadow long ago that threw its darkness over the throne of heaven. The distance was not from place to place but an even greater distance-- from heart to heart. With mankind having no hope of spanning the eternal distance he had created, God himself made the trip and made a way back home. The distance was not so great that love couldn't cover it. Looking out from His throne, the Father of Light and of men, Choose to make Himself known and show us the way back to Him. Speaking wisdom and truth into heart of peasants and Kings He began to unveil the Word that would change the course of all things.... Third Day At the end of a day of hauling off junk, gifting Goodwill, and packing Mamaw's bedroom suite into a moving pod with a few other things, I prayed for Clay in the street at the back of my pickup. I don't remember the words much but I do know that at that moment, distance wasn't a problem. And if I understand the heavenly Father's Word, it really never should be. Cos

Taking Down the Tree

2010-01-05T11:52:00.000-08:00

It's funny but to this day I still think a Christmas Tree is magic. Ours never was very gorgeous or fancy. Most of the decorations were homemade or kid made and they developed a tradition of their own. Our tree contained no real theme or scheme with regard to color or decor, it was mainly just memories. Maybe that's where the magic lay. But by the last days of December or the first days of January it loses it magic and its time to take it down again. It usually takes Pam more than one asking and may require a day or two before it actually comes down. Time wins, it always does, and the process starts. I think the ornaments know it's time to go back in the attic. Sitting over in a corner, no lights twinkling, no presents under the limbs, the tree and decorations seem a bit embarrassed to be out there without their magic after Christmas. I suppose their magic comes from anticipation of gathered family, the joy of presents to be given, the love of memories made--- the single red-striped straw that was "made" in kindergarten (it always goes on first), the ugly non-working light which goes on top (last), and our Wizard of Oz characters: Dorothy, Tin Man, The Lion, and The Scarecrow ornaments my mom made. There are things from first grade, second grade, even up to college, many kept only because they annoyed Pam or made the boys laugh. But this odd assembly with no apparent reason to be together has been together for twenty-five or more years now. The only thing they have in common is us and somehow they work their magic for us as a kind of thank-you for a few more weeks of life each December. But it doesn't last long. Its all soon enough packed in the zipper bags and shoe boxes and plastic crates and for the tree itself a rather narrow box. It is stripped of its ornaments, has its limbs folded up in unnatural looking positions. It looks rather sad, stark and naked. So its is folded and stuffed in a box and shoved into a dark place in the corner of the attic. That trip up into the attic in early January is a somewhat sad routine but I tried to reassure the boxes that I'd remember where they were and I'd see them again next November after Thanksgiving. I added that I hoped they had a nice rest but seemed to hear (I think it was the voice of Oz's Scarecrow) "we don't need much rest, we didn't do anything this year." True, with no kids or grand kid around on Christmas eve or morn this year they only had a couple of just-past-middle agers to work with. I reminded them that everyone has an off year now and then so go ahead and rest while you can. They didn't seem to believe me. So I sat down on a box of old Sports Illustrated and said, "Look, I know you may not believe this but I know how you feel. I live with an odd assortment of people who are together only because the one who made us put us together. We don't have that much in common but we have each other. It's called the church. We look kinda silly sometimes by ourselves but when you get us together some real wonderful stuff can happen. And tree, you and I may have the most in common, one day someone will strip me naked, fold my arms in an awkward position, stuff me in a narrow box and put me in a dark place. But if I read the story right, I won't be forgotten either. So hang in there until it's your time again." "You too," I think I heard them say. "You too." Terry

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

2009-12-17T07:30:00.000-08:00

Who knew the rock group Smashing Pumpkins 1995 release named in the title was a Christmas album? It certainly wasn't intended as such but it seems to me to fit. The rocker who wrote most the songs on the album said Mellon Collie spoke to " the human condition of mortal sorrow." Not bad for a rocker, eh? The album sold ten million copies in the U.S. and had seven Grammy nominations but before now it was never used in the context of a Christmas album. I actually know nothing of the album except my son had it and had a cool poster of the album cover on his bedroom wall as a teen. But if you've lived long enough, gone through the Christmas season enough times and you are honest, then you know: there is a melancholy and sadness lurking just below the surface of all the joy and festivities of the season. We don't talk about it, we may not admit to it, indeed part of all our frenetics of the holidays may be a mask to hide it, but it is there and Christmas brings it out. So go ahead, face it, name it, look it in the eye and don't ignore it or sweep it under the rug, Christmas has a sad face of grief under Santa's whiskers. Why is that you ask? It is because this time we have declared as joyous also points out what is missing and the loss we feel. This can't be helped. So you won't take that trip you always make, there's no one at the end of that road anymore. You gather for Christmas dinner and the chair where ______ always sat is empty. No one wants to sit in it but some little kid doesn't know any better and hops in it and you actually are relieved. But that empty chair reminded you of the loss and it hurts. Melancholy moment. Maybe it hits you when you gather 'round the tree to exchange gifts. There's one less this year to give and you pretend not to notice but you do. I still miss the pinky ring my nephew made everyone out of a dollar bill and gave at Christmas. You shake it off and go on but it hurts that the wreck took him from all, especially my sister. Melancholy moment. It may be the trip you planned, the dinner you shared, the toast you made, the cookies you stirred, the reminisces you recalled, but disease, age, distance, finances, broken relationships and death changed everything and Christmas and the holidays act like a magnifying glass bringing light to your loss. You feel like an ant under it. Melancholy and infinite sadness. This is the curse of our fallen world where there is loss, pain, sorrow and death. Christmas just seems to highlight this truth. But Christmas brings an even bigger truth: God has felt the pain and suffering and He wraps Himself in humanity and history to feel that pain and loss through His own human flesh. He knows and so He declares that these losses and separations need not be forever. Indeed, they have one root cause and it is humanity's sin-separation from God. It is His chair at our table we most need filled. It is supper with Him which can fill our empty souls. It is the trip through life with Him made possible by faith in Him that we most need to take. It is receiving His gift of eternal life that we most need to receive and that is why He stepped into history and humanity to deliver us and bring us hope and the promise of eternal life in our Father's home. I know next to nothing about Smashing Pumpkins but I'm learning more about the One who smashed the curse of sin on us all. In spite of the darkness, yea because of the darkness, the Light has come and the melancholy and sadness are no longer infinite nor are they eternal. They are mere shadows fading in the eternal Light of Jesus. So celebrate Christ-mas, the birth of the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior. Merry Christmas, Terry

The Domino Effect

2009-12-09T12:20:00.000-08:00

It was a rough start to the last month of the year that was itself a tough one on many fronts. There were some bright spots: the quagmire-building in Afghanistan was moving forward, now nearing its ten-year anniversary. The government set new records in deficits, currently numbering into the trillions (whatever that is) with the promise of even greater deficits to come. Perhaps the best news was the the government bailout of the economy was working in that it only cost five-hundred thousand dollars to create one $8 per hour job. It was probably hard to notice these bits of good news in the wake of losing Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett so close together. These molders and shapers of American culture cannot be easily forgotten despite Octomom , Tiger Woods and Dancing With the Stars attempts to knock them from the headlines. Since I've always been a sucker for the underdogs I couldn't help but feel sorry for the other folks having a hard time this year. The poor Eggo people never stood a chance but to their credit they never waffled. In all the other good and bad news perchance you never heard-there's an Eggo shortage, a story no doubt pushed to the margarines of society. Yes, due to a flood in one factory and some equipment failures in another plant, there will a shortage of Eggo's for a few months. It's a cruel world. Aunt Jemimah and Mrs. Buttersworth were visibly shaken at the news but managed to keep their tops about them. This was remarkable for this pair is known for being syrupy and spilling their insides when pushed over by life's grasping hands. Unfortunately, Eggo hoarding has been widespread so when someone says "leggo my Eggo" you best be on guard. Don't look now, but there is also a pumpkin shortage. We managed to make it through Thanksgiving but the Christmas pumpkin pies may be smaller and more expensive if you can make them at all. Industry analysts have suggested using canned pumpkin pie filling or even sweet potato pie as a substitute. A spokesperson for SPI ( Sweet Potatoes Institute) decried the suggestions saying, "I yam what I yam! As a tuber that has known racial discrimination and profiling for years at the hands of white potatoes, we simply cannot comprehend why a fellow orange vegetable industry would place this burden on us." Perhaps the greatest injustice of recent days has been made against Lorraine Collette Peterson, better known as the Sunmaid Raisin girl. For over 90 years Lorraine was the the sign and symbol for one of America's healthiest snacks. That gig has dried up. Now, at least in advertisements, if not on the boxes themselves, Lorraine has been hung out to dry. A more modern Sunmaid girl now weaves through the vineyards picking raisins. Her features are more defined and she appears to have been working out or visiting her plastic surgeon. One commentator suggested she looked a bit like Julia Roberts with implants. I assumed he meant dental implants. The Sunmaid people thought a more modern looking woman might reach out to a younger clientele (then why did they keep the bonnet?). With our luck the ad campaign might work and we would have a shortage of raisins. That would force us to eat oatmeal-oatmeal cookies. Then we would have a shortage of oatmeal. That in turn would force us to change our breakfast habits and we would have to eat waffles. No, wait there's already an Eggo shortage! We're doomed! In our world there is no shortage of wars to wage but there is a shortage of wisdom on how to win a war we must not lose. Is there a way to wage peace in the face of fundamentalist terrorism? There is in our halls of government a shortage of money or is it possible that there simply was a shortage of discipline and responsibility and a flood of greed and selfish ambition teamed with instant gratification? In our culture there is an acute shortage of contentment, commitment and character. We've let the stars shape us instead of the One who shaped the stars. We place people on tall pedestals and the taller they are the more easier they are to topple. I've yet to hear much talk about Tiger Woods poor soul and the kind of sin sickness he must have to ruin a marriage, break hearts, risk losing those children except for weekends and summers and disappoint the God who so wonderfully blessed him. The questions are all about 'will he lose endorsements' and 'do you think he will still be able to play golf?' There but by the grace of God, a few billion dollars, and the best golf swing in the world go I. What do we do in a world where these shortages seem to have domino effect that topple governments with greed, nations with war, marriages by infidelity, and lives with empty worship? I suggest we embrace the domino effect. Look it up. Domino is a word of French origin taken from the Latin benedicamos. Domino means "let us bless the Lord." It came to be used of clergymen and the hooded robes they wore that came to be known as Dominos. One couldn't tell one clergyman from another in their dominos, they all just blessed the Lord. Could it be that if we embrace this domino effect to invest our lives in blessing the Lord instead of spending so much time, effort, money, emotion, entertainment and worship on ourselves that the shortages that are killing people and our planet would themselves dry up and blow away? Maybe that's the annual call of advent: to re-turn us to the One in whom there is never a shortage of peace, hope, joy and love. And in Christ we learn the world has been given what she really is longing for, a Savior who is in spite of our shortages... Dominus Invictus Terry

2009-12-04T09:08:00.000-08:00

Pie, Pie Love, Pie, Pie Sweet Caress, Hello Fullness

2009-11-23T17:30:00.000-08:00

Pam asked the question that stumped me. After thirty-three and a half years of marriage you wouldn't think she could do that, but she did. We're driving down the road after seeing a CBS Sunday morning show about a Pie Guy in Round Top Texas. I'm interested in any thing 'Texas' and since we at one time lived pretty close to Round Top and were surprised to hear that there was a restaurant there famous enough for the Morning Show to show up, well, they piqued my interest. Oh, yeah, it was also about pie. I know pie and pie knows me. It's easy to tell. But Pam got me: what's your favorite pie? Favorite? The one I love the most? How can I leave out _______ if I pick _______. I love pecan. I love coconut. I love apple, especially the three kinds Pam makes. I love chocolate. You get the idea. I can't pick one. She asked if I liked pumpkin. Yeah, but it's not my favorite. I rattled off all the pie kinds I love and put pumpkin twelfth. The first eleven tied for first. Pam then asked if I liked mince meat pie. I responded that I don't consider that a pie. It was a cruel substitute thrust upon even poorer children of the depression to try and lift the spirits of the dust bowl diet which consisted of, well, dust on everything. I know this to be true because every depression era person I know says silly things like, "eat all the crust, its the best part of the pie." So sad, if that were true then why put any filling in at all? Just serve everyone a double portion of crust every Thanksgiving and Christmas... I throw Shepherd's pie in there too. It's not really pie. It's England's or Ireland's response to being so poor long ago that they didn't have very large plates so they piled everything on top of each other and put a crust down there somewhere and called it shepherds pie. They called it that because even the sheep wouldn't eat it. Ok, ok, ok, so there are some pies that aren't dessert pies. I call that supper, but I digress. I can't pick a favorite. It's either the one I'm eating, the one I haven't eaten in a while, or the one I'm thinking about eating. Now don't get me wrong, I've had some bad, bad pies. Soggy crust, vinegary sweetener, store bought, frozen crust can ruin a good pie. And don't ever trust someone who says that the frozen store bought crusts are as good as homemade. If they will lie about that they will lie about other things. Maybe they don't know any better, there are still deprived , unfortunate people out there who haven't had my experience with pies so I'll not be too critical and can only hope to enlighten them in my remaining days, which are probably not as long as they would have been if I didn't know my subject so well. Anyway, this Thanksgiving I'll be thankful for a grandmother who made great pies, a mother who made great pies, and Pam who I wished would open her own pie shop. "Pam's Pies" has a nice ring to it doesn't it? I would, of course, be the official taster. I wonder how God would answer a similar question Pam asked me, not about pies but people. "God, who is your favorite person?" I think it might stump Him. ( I know that sounds blasphemous, but so far I'm still typing...) Jesus would sure pick John, Peter or maybe Moses. Paul has got to be one of His favorites and He sure answered a lot of prayers for Elijah and helped him do a lot of spectacular things. Maybe He was partial to His earthly friend Lazarus or the first man, Adam. He seemed to have good time with Mary and Martha and Mary Mag would surely be close to the top. I know you may not believe this, but He might just pick you. Yeah, you. No, I know you didn't do a thing to deserve it and that's the point. God, by His grace just loves. You don't earn it, He just loves--the one He is with, the one He is thinking about, and the one He is hoping to be with soon. When you finish off that great meal with a great piece of pie Thanksgiving day, just when you're sinking your teeth into a masterpiece of delectable decadence, and you are oh, so thankful, just know this, God is thankful for you. And for that, you should be too............. Piece Out, Terry

Fighting Demons

2009-11-17T12:05:00.000-08:00

We all have them, including me. Those thoughts whose origins are closer to hell than heaven; those impulses to control, manipulate, judge, imply, marginalize, insinuate, or outright destroy; those tendencies to procrastinate, do poorly, disregard, or leave undone; those indulgences of body, mind, kids, friends, prejudices and worse, spirit that deflect responsibility to liberals, conservatives, Arabs, humanists, fast food, and easy gods; those inclinations to throw up the hands, throw in the towel, give up, go the way of the world, and resign to the philosophy of 'that's just the way things are and they ain't never gonna change!' Oh yeah, and maybe a few real demons thrown in for good measure but mostly in less civilized cultures, our made up ones are far more devastating. These demons show up as anger-at the dad for never being around, at the mom for hovering around too much, the spouse who never gave what was needed, at the boss for crazy demands, crazy schedules and ridiculous pay. They manifest themselves as sloth and withdrawal or they go around as their more respectable cousins-workaholism and frenzied activities.You see these demons in the family SUV going to sporting games that fill the calendar and are filled with empty young people with scurrying thumbs and un-stretched souls. In truth they can tell you how to spike a volley ball, throw a curve ball, shoot a basketball and how to have a ball but not how or why to live morally and purposely. All those miles in the back of a suburban and no conversations about Jesus... The demons of modern society goad us on to greed, materialism, apathy, and a brand of moralism that leaves out God and coronates self. With a proper self-image, a good education, a dose of toleration, a proper goal, and a tenacious spirit there's not too much a man or woman can't accomplish in this world. Of course, if someone should happen to have goals beyond this world and its achievements we can just label them as zealots. My demon? Its pretty obvious isn't it. It's name is Cynic. The ancient Greeks birthed its name in a gymnasium extolling virtue and hard work but its history is long, its effects, well, there weren't many positive long-range ones were there? I must fight my demon. I often am beaten down and lost in the fray. It's true, if you don't believe me read the first three paragraphs again. How do I fight this wicked monster and keep it from stealing all joy and hope in a fallen world? The answer is almost too easy. It's so easy it can be overlooked. It is easy to see the effects of a fallen world. We must learn to look deeper or at least differently to see the effects of grace. We who have developed a taste for this juicy demon empty of spiritual calories can find the fullest spiritual feast a bit chewy and the effort to savor that meal a real pain. But if I will but feed my soul this one food, I find myself nourished to dream and fight and persevere while at the same time starving the demon of its power to corrupt. What is this miracle food? It is Truth, plain and simple found in the gospel of Christ. The truth is God has not now nor has He ever abandoned His creation or His people. At this time in our world of war and rumors of war, disease and drought, H1N1 and AIDS, genocide, suicide, and homicide, He still moves. More people come to faith in Christ every day than at any time in history. Estimates are as low as 45,000 and as high as 60,000 people come to follow Christ as Lord each day in Africa, Asia, Europe, South America, and even several thousand in North America. The church now has over 2 billion who claim Christ as Saviour.* (Rick Warren's mission's website*)The church is so robust in Korea, Africa, and South America that these regions have sent missionaries to the United States to strenghten the church spiritually. Young ministers are sensing the call to ministry in great numbers in many denominations. These young men and women are not enamored with thoughts of power or prestige but will genuinely go anywhere and do all things to advance the kingdom of God and proclaim His righteousness. Their music is different, their methods are unconventional but they are reaching people in places like liberal western Europe that a few years ago was closed to the gospel. As more people are hurting the budgets of churches across our nation have felt the crunch, yet, the outpouring to relief agencies from individuals and churches is keeping such ministries afloat. The Red Cross estimates that during the relief efforts after hurricane Katrina, that 90 % of the meals it served in actuality came from local churches and church relief agencies. The churches responded quickly and effectively while the large agencies and government were tied up in red tape. A large percentage of our kids can expect to live to be a hundred years of age and were it not for lifestyle choices related to obesity and drugs those numbers would apply even greater for our grandchildren. Diseases are being cured or curtailed. Lives are being extended. Limbs can be repaired and joints replaced as never before. The God who said 'be fruitful and multiply' also said to mankind 'fill the earth and subdue it.' That is happening at a rate like never before. The advances will never lead to eternal life by themselves but they may very well extend the time a human has to hear the good news that salvation for eternity comes by no other name than the name of Jesus. So how do you live in such a world where the demons are very real and are seemingly everywhere you look, even internally? Look to the Truth and that Truth is Jesus revealed in His word. Read it. It will help you read the paper and listen to the news with an eternal perspective. We can learn to live with and interpret the times with a faith that is real and balanced. It will see the reality of evil but know the limits of it. It can face the uncertainties of life because it is based on the Certainty of eternity. This faith founded and built on Truth can see the obstacles to living and keep moving forward with joy because this faith enables him to see the end of evil, pain, and suffering in the Kingdom of God. Even a cynic can learn from the Bible truths for living abundantly. When the army of Israel faced the Philistines, the soldiers quaked at the sight of Goliath and effectively said, 'how can we fight such a huge enemy?' David looked at Goliath and said,'How can I miss?' And when you face that greatest of enemies, even the one called Death, and he stares that blank, lifeless stare into your life, stare back with the love of God and watch. It is death that blinks. Still Staring if not Standing, Terry

Exposed

2009-11-09T12:23:00.000-08:00

I have hesitated to write anything about the tragedy of last week at Ft. Hood. So many capable writers, pastors, journalists and politicians have undertaken the task. Many have done so with somber beauty and crystal clarity. 'What could I add?' I thought. I was deeply saddened and enraged with teeth gritting anger. I (God forgive me) was a little miffed when I heard the gunman had lived. Did I really think I wanted another human being dead? I'm still not sure but one thing I wasn't too surprised about is that it happened. Maybe I'm becoming jaded so that even an attack on the world's largest Army post wasn't totally shocking. My lack of surprise had little to do with it being on an Army post, or that a fellow soldier did those people in, or that it was a Muslim that did it. I wouldn't have been surprised too much if a non-Muslim did it either. No it was something else that caused me to be only slightly surprised. Frankly, what surprises me is that there aren't more tragedies. Isn't that horrible to say? What's wrong with me? Am I sick in the heart or something? Maybe I am, but it's for another reason. I've read the Bible. It exposes the heart of humanity with awful honesty. No, there's not some secret prophecy hidden in Habakkuk or some other minor prophet that told me there would be a massacre in Ft. Hood. But the Bible does say this in Romans 3:23: "All have sinned and come short of the glory of God." What? You thought that meant we were just a little tarnished but basically good once Jesus polished us up a bit? No, it means we all have the evil that causes us to rebel against God and have the capacity to hurt our fellow man. Not clear yet? How about Jeremiah 17:9: "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" (The implication from the next verses and all the Bible is that only God can.) I looked up a dozen other "sinful" passages and they are amazingly consistent from Genesis 3 through the epistles of John--we are infected with the same evil and capable of horrific injustice. Lest we think we aren't, Jesus made it pretty clear how insidious, pervasive, and personal this sin is. Remember how He taught that if a man looks on a woman lustfully he's already committed adultery with her in his heart? If a man is angry with his brother he is guilt of murder (Matt. 5:21-22;27-28). The Bible also teaches of an evil loosed in the world who goes by the name of Satan. The Bible describes him as a thief, liar and murderer. Face it folks, the world is broken and we often trip over the rubble of our brokenness and break some more. I'm amazed more evil stuff doesn't happen and why doesn't it happen more? It's not because the human race is basically good. How many wars and massacres will it take to convince us of that? That's the bad news. The good news is that into a broken world where evil lives and breathes and has its being a tremendous power has also been loosed. That power is the grace and love of God manifested in the person of Jesus Christ. Therefore our hope is in Him and His power to forgive, cleanse, restore and re-create the hearts of men surrendered to His will. This power still moves and lives in the church, Christ's followers, to share the good news of salvation and hope through Jesus Christ. The hope we have is not just in this life but in the life to come. Our hope is an eternal hope that is not stopped by the bullets of a mad man or the ideology of madmen. Our hope is not defined by the length of physical life but by the quality (think abundant) and quantity (think eternal) of life lived by faith in Christ. Whoa, I went off in preaching mode there didn't I? Sorry about that. Capacity. Is that a full or empty word for you? I suppose that depends on how you answer. What fills you? We all have the capacity for evil, horror, and unspeakable sin. Some of it comes out in some peoples lives very publicly and tragically. For many people, the horror and evil is borne internally, with only the guilt and stress of keeping it in check causing our lives to crack a bit from time to time. Jesus has borne our sin. There is no need to carry the burden, it has been lifted. Nidal Hasan either didn't get the message or chose to ignore it. What was in his heart was exposed, and it came to the surface in a horrific act of cowardice and in a manner exposed the problem of the human race. We need help. It has come. Hasan cried out "Allah Akbar" (God is great in Arabic) before he began shooting. But he really didn't know what that meant. One day he will. What will you do with the good news of Christ? Please continue to pray for the families of those who lost their lives and for the recovery of those injured in the Ft. Hood tragedy. Terry

Reunion

2009-10-28T11:33:00.000-07:00

And so it came to be that after thirty two years it was decided to have a track team reunion. (We were good. Its true. We won the Lone Star Conference and finished third at Nationals.)It was discussed before, proposed before, but it never happened before. Now it has. The occasion was one of the former coaches being inducted to our beloved Howard Payne's Sports Hall of Fame. Jim Ewing coached distant runners as he was one himself in his thinclad days. Quite good obviously but I never knew much about that. But one of his former pupils, Dave, undertook the task of pulling us in from the four winds for Dr. Ewing's induction and to have the Reunion.

Dr Ewing, of course, never coached me but he did teach me English. No, please don't have harsh impressions toward him, just know it would be far, far worse had the good Lord not brought the good Scot into my life. He opened up a window in my soul through which meaning and words could flow. It was no doubt in part due to the brogue in which he spoke that brought new textures to old words but also the sternness (not meanness)by which he evaluated our work. He made a difference. Much of what I learned from him by way of dissecting a story or poem I later applied to Bible passages. And passages that were written as and meant to be viewed as literature would have had their beauty lost to me were it not for the slight Scotsman. Theology left on its own can add dust to the Bible and make it hard to swallow- syntax, etymologies, historical and personal background studies add the butter to some, what seems at times, dry bread.

So we gathered, a handful at first and few more later. ( I had to miss the later). To my surprise everyone was recognizable but one. Doug, the miler had to tell me who he was. Dave, Tim, Vic and the other runners looked good. Most still ran some. The other shot putter\discus thrower besides myself, Tommy, had possibly changed the least. Danny the spear chunker was still Danny and told stories with animation from 35 years ago like they were yesterday. He should have been the preacher. Dave greeted Dr. Ewing with a recitation from Macbeth, Act 5, scene 5, 19-28 complete with rolled Scottish r's and dropped gutturals. Those distance guys were clearly more cerebral. I always wondered what they did when they ran for two hours straight. I guess they memorized and recited Shakespeare.

I didn't get to hear all the details of their lives journeying over the past thirty plus years. I heard the high points--marriages, kids, jobs. Most seemed to be doing well. Quite a number had followed Dr. Ewing's way into teaching and coaching. It was good to see them. I would have like to have seen the black guys. Maybe we can find them for the next reunion. I missed seeing my coach, Don Hood. He came after I had to leave. I'll try to catch up with him on my own. It made me think of others I'd lost track of along the way that I had at one time enjoyed or had made an impact on my life. I can't help but believe after seeing the guys and visiting with them a few minutes that Macbeth was wrong, at least in part when Mr Shakespeare had him say at the death of his wife:

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Given what poor Macbeth had been through and put others through, well, one could get soured on life. But a life that's been affected by the quiet strength of a big German shot-putter, the antics and animation of a javelin thrower you could never feel down around for very long, the relentless determination of a marathon runner, the awe struck wonder of hearing a Scottish English teacher read a Robert Frost poem, or hearing the sincere thankfulness of a poor African sprinter be so happy with a Big Mac, well, with all due respect Mr. Shakespeare, that signifies something. Of course, I didn't know it at the time. It took the ages to whittle off the ego and add the spice of perspective but all had an impact on my life. To quote another Englishman of the same era , John Donne, "No man is an island entire of itself; every man is piece of the continent...I am involved with mankind...ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."

The truth is that as much as I enjoyed seeing the old track team, some of them I'll probably never see again in this life. That doesn't mean that's the end, it's just another place Mr. Macbeth was wrong.

Terry

Unseen Hands

2009-10-23T05:28:00.000-07:00

But I trust in you, o Lord; I say, "You are my God." My times are in your hands..........Psalm 31:14-15 We had some computer trouble last week. We also have a couple of guys we know who know everything there is to know about computers. This time we didn't call them because it seemed to us that the problem was actually the physical computer itself and not this dummy trying to run it, and, besides, it is still under warranty. So the toll free number is dialed, a voice comes on telling me which number to punch for which area, some music is played for thirty minutes interrupted occasionally by another voice reassuring me that my call is important followed by more music. Then at last a human voice begins to speak, but, Naveen is in India or Bangladesh or who knows where and these Texas ears are not always the best for discerning dialects. So we begin to muddle through the experience. Naveen begins to ask me questions about the problem, and take me through about fifteen steps I've already done and still the problem is not fixed. Next Naveen tells me certain letters and numbers to type into the address bar. I do. He tells me a screen will come up requiring me to check the "I have read and agree to the terms." I check the box even though I haven't read the agreement. Who does? Next, Naveen tells me to take my hands off the keyboard and he will try and fix the problem. Then it happened. All of a sudden, my cursor on my computer is being moved around by some unseen hands far, far away. Screens pop up on my monitor that look very technical but I didn't call them forth. Words, letters, numbers appear, the cursor arrow moves back and forth, up and down, icons I've never seen before appear, they are clicked and the computer makes whirring sounds and I'm thinking " I hope Naveen isn't draining my bank account because we're both going to be disappointed. This sequence goes on for about fifteen or twenty minutes and Naveen asks me to move a plug in the back of the tower. I didn't know I had a tower. Turns out that it is the computer itself, I think they used to call it the cpu or some other initials. The problem still isn't fixed. Naveen types and moves on my computer and at one time I see he's going to "my documents." Why is he going to the "my documents" section? There are only bad sermons and unfinished drafts of letters never sent. I'm a little frightened at this point. What's he looking for? Still connected by phone I ask him, what are you doing in "my documents?" He was needing an empty folder to download a driver. So he found his empty folder and download a driver. All the time I'm feeling like I'm in a remake of Driving Miss Daisy except its not in a car but on a computer and I've got Naveen instead of Hoak. Finally, Naveen tells me to move the plug back to another hole in the back of the tower, which I find much quicker this time and he instructs me that he will see if the problem is fixed and confirm with me that it is. To confirm he goes to a music screen and picks a symphony and it begins to play. Everything works. He tells me he is giving me back my computer and after a few follow up questions for quality control, he hangs up. I check my bank balance, its all there. I check my documents, I think they are all there. The computer works and all I had to do was sit back and keep my hands off and let someone who knew what they were doing take control and follow his instructions. It was frankly a bit frightening to not have control but I can't complain about the service or the results. Hummm? I wonder if that would apply to......... O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in -- behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from you Spirit? Where can I flee from you presence? Psalm 139:1-7 Are there Unseen Hands just waiting for you to agree to take control of you brokenness and go to work on your behalf? Go ahead, click on faith... Terry

The River of Doubt

2009-10-13T07:24:00.000-07:00

In late 1913 and early 1914, less than two years from suffering what to him was a humiliating political defeat for the presidency, former president Theodore Roosevelt took off on an adventure. TR had served as president from 1901 to 1909. He had chosen not to run in the fall elections of 1908. Unhappy with the political climate, being restless and out of the limelight, TR tried to stage a comeback. Running as an independent in 1912, he was pretty soundly defeated by Woodrow Wilson. After agreeing to a speaking tour in South America, he also wanted to explore and get out into nature again to heal from his rejection from the American voters. His expedition is recounted in the book The River of Doubt authored by Candace Millard. TR's expedition was to explore and map a large tributary of the Amazon system that had not been explored. In fact, the name of the book has many meanings but one was that the river's existence, length, and importance where very much in question, thus the river of doubt. Oral traditions existed of a few who had tried to make the trip to be heard from never again. Thus another layer in the name The River of Doubt: it was doubtful that anyone could survive the journey. The trip was a disaster. There was poor planning by people who didn't know Brazil. The wrong canoes were chosen. Not enough of the right kind of food was taken (although early on the party had choices of five teas). The problem was compounded by the fact that although the Amazon basin is teeming with game and fish, this group didn't know how to access it. The explorers were stalked by cannibals, beset with malaria, inundated with bugs, always hungry, divided by a murder, drenched to the point of dry rot and shall we say, not a bunch of happy campers. The expedition very nearly killed Roosevelt. He instructed the party at one point to leave him but his son and the Brazilian co-commander Rondon refused. By all accounts this exceedingly fit, strong man's health was broken and his life eventually cut short by the ordeal he and his party suffered. They did rename the river after him, however. (Check out the Rio Roosevelt on google to see a 600 mile river in Brazil.) The name of the waterway was the River of Doubt, but with the courage, stamina, and dogged determination to survive, the unknown became known and doubt was turned to knowledge. It was a costly discovery. Dispelling doubt always is. As a result of the Roosevelt-Rondon expedition nearly 100 years ago, rubber exporting grew from the area, timber was harvested (this can be debated if this is good), some experimental medicines researched, and a few developments sprang up. The river is still wild, untamed but open. We all have our rivers of doubt. We get bogged down in them. Their rapids can crush us. They tend to make us want to go back or quit. Our personal rivers of doubt are often left unexplored from fear and unwillingness to pay the cost exacted to bring the wild unknown into the realm of usefulness. The doubts we have about our purpose, our abilities, our love, our being loved flow so freely much of the time that we spend most of our lives looking for dryer, safer ground. The headwaters of all our rivers of doubt are traced back to one source. Does God exist? Does He know me and if He knows me, does he care? There is really only one way to find out isn't there? Launch out in faith and see where your Guide takes you. The stories down through the centuries point to the Guide who knows our hearts better than we do and can lead us home. But you can't survive on others' stories, you must write you own. There is a river of doubt that also goes by the name of death. Try as we might, it cannot be avoided forever. One day we will have to cross it. Not if, but when. When that time comes will the river of death bring tributaries of doubt and fear so strong that you will be swept away or will your confidence in the Guide you know so well cause you once again to reach out your hand and with quiet confidence let Him take you home? Choosing wisely now will help you wade channels that could otherwise sweep you away. Rivers of Doubt to Rivers of Delight---choose wisely. Psalm 46:4 Terry

Chaos

2009-09-30T08:34:00.001-07:00

Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters...........Genesis 1: 2 Formless? Empty? The words of Genesis 1:2 are hauntingly cold in their assessment of the world before God's creative activity is seen. The word for formless (NIV) is rendered desolate, worthless, confusion or nothing in other venues. The word used for empty is seen in other works and places as void, a ruin, a vacuity. The world before Genesis 1:3 was a place of darkness, chaos-- nothingness on steroids. But on this chaotic void of dark confusion and emptiness there was nonetheless hope for it also states that the Spirit of God was hovering, brooding, on the waters. That word for moving implies to flutter, to envelope as a hen broods over her nest so the Spirit moves over the primordial waters. Was it waters? The word is used also for urine, semen, and waste. In the wasted, chaotic nothingness that was called 'world' before creation God was present, moving, about to change nothingness into glorious beauty and fill emptiness with Himself. Creatio ex nihilo-creation from nothing, now that is something! Imagination can't soar high enough to capture even a scintilla of the wonder of Creation. We see its results in nature and in people and still marvel. Watching Ken Burns' The National Parks on PBS this week has left me in awe and filled with sadness at the same time. Awe, because the sights are indescribable, sad because I've not seen them in person. The brooding of the Spirit over the lives of people and the creation He still works in them is even more breathtaking. Imagine a soul, a real, living person whose life is filled with emptiness, confusion, darkness and is wasted regarding any thing permanent or eternal. They most likely are not even aware of their own darkness because its all they know and its all they see around them. Then the Spirit of God speaks and the light comes on and the ugly void of life without God in the heart is awakened to its purpose and the journey begins. I recently saw a glimpse of this again with the building of our home and the subsequent move into it. The canvas wasn't blank but it appeared more barren than most places to build a house in our community. It was not on the bluff overlooking the lake with their shimmering vistas. It was not on the golf course with the tranquil beauty those lots afford. It was not heavily wooded teeming with wildlife, although it had a great set of trees out front. That was all, no other trees, just the one big one in front and the lot and those around it were so nondescript that telling people where it was drew mostly blank stares despite the fact that it was clearly seen from the main road. The previous owner no longer valued it much and so the plain, empty lot with a good tree was about to be brooded over. Applied to it now was the creative art of all-world home builder Ron Roberts and his crews of craftsmen. Land was scraped, leveled and forms were set. Foundations went down and frames went up. Rooms became distinct where before there were prickly pear and native grasses. Where darkness exercised its reign now light competes at the flick of a switch. Strength, beauty, and utility were taking over where nothingness once ruled. The land bent and conformed to Ronnie's hand and in a matter just a few months, a house was born. But it was empty, void, looking good on the outside but with nothing on the inside but possibilities. I did my part with the help of the six Seraphim (the men who helped me move). All the accumulations of the ages was now under the same roof. But it was still without form and chaos ruled. Where's my socks? Where's my phone? Where o, where is my life in this mess? Then Pam began to brood and her spirit began to move over the face of the home. Beds for resting and re-creation were placed; dishes filled cabinets; chairs filled rooms, electronic devices to keep in touch with or be touched from the world found their niche. Where weeds claimed squatters rights, now there is grass; where there were vines, now there resides hollies and jasmine; where rocks grew deep now a fence stands straight; where a breeze once moved on nothing now cools the brow of the tired owner who rests on a porch that overlooks a valley from which a steeple extends its spire and a place that once was easily missed in passing now shares a vision of life and its living for miles and miles. It was there all the time, it just took some one to see it, invest in it, and work it. Even this creative process can't compare to what Christ does when He begins to move over the hearts that are choked by the cares of this world and living in darkness without Him. When He moves over those hearts and new life with Him begins, even the angels can't explain its joy (I Peter 1:12) for no eye has seen and no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him (I Cor. 2:9). Your life chaotic, dark, and feeling wasted? Maybe not you but someone you love feels that way? Pray for the same movement of the Spirit of God over the face of your depths and watch what he can do with a Word. And God said, " Let there be light," and there was light. ...it was good... Terry

Terminal D Gate 22

2009-09-17T07:22:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd always wanted to do that since I first saw it on television. There are so many things I can't do but I can do that. I used the excuse that it was hard to find the time. It was as hollow an excuse as a chocolate Easter bunny. I could have made the time- use my day off, use a vacation day, go on a weekend-- but I never did, until Tuesday. I made it a church event that I was organizing so there went my excuses. So a group of about eighteen of us went to DFW airport to greet troops coming in for R & R from Afghanistan and Iraq. It felt disjointed on this end of the organizing. Call a number, listen to a recording for an arrival time and be flexible. The scheduling of a war and my packaged schedule for living life didn't mix well. So, I told folks we'd leave at 6 AM as that would give us time to get to the first scheduled flight time and I'd call them if it were later so we could leave later. It wasn't, so we left at 6AM sharp and followed Bob who led the procession. He got us there with twenty minutes to spare in spite of a slow freeway for a couple of miles. Then the flexible part kicked in. The flight would be there about 8:15 instead of 7:50. It landed about 8:45. I thought that was pretty good to be within an hour of the scheduled time. Then they had to clear customs so we wouldn't see a uniform for nearly another half hour. In the meantime I struck up a couple of conversations with family who were waiting. One young wife was from Eastland and was waiting with a couple of biker origin. I asked if they were family. No, the young wife had called a number, the biker couple was part of a group that makes sure families unfamiliar with the area are driven to the airport or shown the way and then they wait with folks who otherwise don't have anyone for those last few anxious hours. I hadn't thought about that need, but the biker couple did. A teenage girl and another lady slightly older held up a sign that read, "welcome home Josh." So I meandered over to ask about Josh. Was he husband, friend, brother, or dad. He is the teenager's brother and the other lady's step-son coming home from Afghanistan for two weeks. His unit had lost 7 of their origianl 60 in the past few months while fighting in one of those hard mountain passes on the border with Pakistan. They were at the same time relieved and worried. I guess war and love makes you feel at the same time emotions that shouldn't go together, kinda like, well, love and war. In the "small world" department that the older of these two girls used to work for Richard Turner's son's sign company. Robin was her name and she just loves Patti. She had helped put our church's sign together several years ago. The volunteers then began to line up the folks. First, of course, were the families of soldiers coming in. There weren't really that many for a flight of 220. Many of the soldiers would get on a bus to Ft Hood or to another part of the terminal to catch another flight home. The next to line up was the veterans who had come out to greet the troups. I heard a couple of our vets, Jim and Howard mentioned that no one was there to greet them when they returned from Viet Nam. It was humbling to watch our Vets line up. In fact, every few minutes you are fighting back tears. You fight them back when you talk to the families. You choke when you hear the Viet Nam Vets talk about the difference then and now. You almost lose it when you see a WW II guy shuffle to get in line to see his grandson coming home. You can't keep 'em in any longer when you see the few-weeks-old baby and think that Dad is about to see her for the first time and you hope its not the last. The doors to customs opens and a few trickle in and then they come out in droves. It was surprising how young they were. There were a few old codgers but most seemed too young for so many of them to have been firing rockets, launching grenades, squeezing rounds out of their M16's and ducking and dodging and trying to keep away from IED's just a couple of days ago. It hits you, they volunteered to do this and its hard to get the greetings out of a tightened throat at first. "Welcome home...thank-you...thank-you for your service." I was surprised so many acutally looked you in the eyes and said "thanks" back. You see tall soldiers and short ones. You see a lot of names you can't pronouce. I even saw soldier I'm about 75% sure I performed her wedding in Hereford. She married one of our youth from our church after he joined the service. She was a career soldier, already sevearl notches up. I heard later that the marriage didn't work out--too much stress, time apart, temptation abounding. I was glad to see her safe and hoped her life was working out despite divorces and war. In a half and hour or so the last ones have passed through and it's over. For the vast majority of these it will happen in reverse in two weeks and its back to war. I don't know if they get a send-off at the airport like that when they go back. I suspect it is much more somber. But I know eighteen people who will be praying a bit more diligently for them from here out. You can't help it after visiting Teminal D Gate 22. Cos

Look Out!

2009-09-08T12:33:00.000-07:00

My dogs walk me four to five times a week, depending on golf, weather, and surgeries. Most of the walks are uneventful with idle banter between Harley, Hallie, and myself. They are lab mixes. Harley is more mixed up than Hallie. Harley weighs about 65 lbs and Hallie about 85 lbs. They don't say a whole lot but they are good listeners. Mostly I talk to God while we walk but I don't tell them that I'm talking to God and not to them which is probably why they think they are my gods. We see deer, rabbits, a fox now and then and this week we saw a dead copperhead, although I didn't stay around long enough to find out how dead it was. I sweat, they pant and pull and we all have good workout. But occasionally something unusual happens like getting attacked by another dog. This has happened three times in recent months and I'm thankful it hasn't been more. The first time was a beast of an animal. It was gorgeous. I have no idea what kind of dog it was but it decided it didn't like Harley and came at him. Its owner pulled one way and I pulled another and the dog's are wrapping the leashes around my legs and Hallie is trying to run away and I would let her but I can't get my hand out of her leash. Finally, the man gets his dog away and hollers back, 'sorry about that.' I, and probably Harley were just thankful the man held on. The next time we were getting close to our destination when some indoor dogs were outside helping their master take out the trash. He had his hands full of garbage heading to the trash receptacle and his Boston terrier, I've also heard them call French bulldogs, and his miniature Yorkshire terrier were hopping around his feet. Then the Boston sees my dogs and comes after them. It goes first for Hallie and Harley starts to defend her. I'm trying to pull my dogs away from the little thing and the Yorkie is emboldened by the Boston's success of not getting eaten and joins the fray yapping at my dogs each time they make a circle trying to tie me up again with the leashes. Hallie is trying to run away, Harley is trying to protect her or have breakfast, the Boston's owner finally gets him secured and I turn to see Harley has the Yorkie in his mouth. I yell at him to spit it out and he does. The Yorkie runs off crying and yelping and the gracious owner hollers out 'sorry about that.' That happened about two months ago and Hallie is still scared as we approach that corner. She starts walking slower, tries to get behind me or over by Harley. I ask her, "aren't you going to protect me if that Yorkie comes after me?'' She looks up at me as if to say, "you're on your Kemosabe. Just let go of that leash and I'll meet you at the house if you make it." I never did know what happened to that man's garbage. The last attack occurred about three weeks ago. We walked down a street we rarely go down just to see a new set of deer and cedar trees. We round a corner and this very mad doggie comes out to defend his turf. The lady on the porch is yelling at it, I'll pulling on the leashed trying to move my dogs along. Hallie is looking at me to say 'please let the leash go, I'll go for help and meet you at the house.' Harley is standing there cocking his head from one side to the other. He's not mad. He's not defensive. He's a bit timid and then I see why. Coming at him is a six inch, two pound, one-eyed Chihuahua. Harley's not sure what to do. I don't know if he thought it was a secret weapon, if it were from a cult, if it were sick or was winking at him as if to say this attack is just a joke. Anyway, Harley wanted no part of the one-eyed Chihuahua. We left in a hurry and the lady yells out 'sorry about that, he thinks he's a pit bull.' That may explain the one eye. Look folks, you never know what's going to come at you when you are walking through this world. You can be minding your own business, have all your shots up to date, have your leashes buckled on and 'wham!' you're in the fight of your life. I don't know what's going to come at you be it cancer, bankruptcy, temptations, fights with arrogance or pride, or depression or a whole litany of troubles. Just walk with God, let Him lead. He can tell you when to stand and fight and when to flee and remember, He always knows where home is. Terry

Separation

2009-09-08T11:40:00.000-07:00

He's gone and I understand why which isn't to say I like it one bit. We talk about spoiling our grandchildren but the truth is I was the spoiled granddad or as Kaden was learning to call me "Grandcos." Mimi and Grandcos were spoiled to see the little feller every two or three weeks. Now it's going to be every three to four months if we're lucky. Better job, more help with an active 2 yr old for Melissa, nicer home, better future, yeah, yeah, yeah, etc, etc. Like I said, I know why they left and they have our blessing, I just wish it wasn't so far. I've never been separated from Kaden for more than about 70-75 minutes. It hurts. It's all normal. I'm now going to be a normal parent and grandparent who sees the kids and grandkids on special trips, vacations, and some holidays. I hate normal. Our previous normal was meeting in Ft. Worth for lunch now and then, our going to Weatherford for the afternoon here and there, or their coming out to our home. Kaden had been here enough to know when Mimi was baking something to run into the kitchen for a "bite, bite" of something "numa, numa" (yummy). He knew where the basketball was, where the dvd's were, and the drums were (pots, pans, long spoons) and that Grandcos would let him play on the computer or with his phone. Now the computer and phone are our main ways of communication and keeping in touch and the separation hurts. I could no more explain the feeling Mimi and Grandcos have for their grandchild any more than any other grandparent could for theirs. It's all but impossible to explain but the experience is life-changing and enriching like no other. Mimi would hum Vivaldi's "Spring" since he was really little and he learned to hum it back and wave his arm like he was leading the orchestra. Since he learned to walk at about nine months, Kaden has wrapped his hand around Grandcos' finger and led him anywhere he wanted to go. Grandcos rarely said "no." We laughed, giggled, chased, tickled, hid, played "giddy-up horsey," played "ba-ball" with a golf club, and walked "side'' (outside) and when he wore Mimi out he would switch to Grandcos or vice-versa. My finger aches to be wrapped by a tiny hand, my ankle longs to be banged with a plastic golf club, and my knee saddle is missing its rider and the separation is killing me. Separation. God knows what I feel. It occurs to me, to an exponentially small degree, that I now know what God the Father must have felt when the ones He loved were separated from him, not by a moving van but by their own sin. We shall end our separation from children and grandchild when time, money, and schedules allow us to travel to Farmington or have them come to us for visits. God, who spared no expense, scheduled in the fullness of time the Visitation to end the separation and thus we have become the visited planet, and now nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Oh...ouch, but Oh.... Separation. Its a bad thing. But thanks be to God, it's not an eternal thing. Terry

Back to Blogging

2009-09-08T11:30:00.000-07:00

Yes, its been a while since I last wrote. To both of you who read these things, my apologies. Hopefully, in the twenty-eight days since I last posted an article you've found better things to do with your life -but I haven't so its back to writing a bit. With last minute details on finishing the house, to making plans to move, to the move itself, to helping my son and family load for their move to Farmington, NM, to the hiccup with the closing date, well I just didn't feel like writing anything. Too, I was and am still pretty melancholy about my grandson moving to NM and I didn't want that to dominate whatever I said but it will anyway so I might as well get that out of the way. It's back to work on these little treatises so pray for me and I'll certainly pray for those of you who read them; you'll need it. Cos