Christmas Traffic

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

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

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

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

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

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 ___________

"...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