Where's Betty?

                                                         Where's Betty?


Sitting on the front pew at church a few weeks ago I glanced over my left shoulder. We were singing "Faith is the Victory," and there, across the center aisle, on the third row was Betty. She was sitting with her husband, Don, and daughter, Cate. But in some ways, Betty wasn't there. She had a far away look and any one could tell she wasn't in the moment. Some of the people who know simply call it "the stare." Betty has Alzheimer's.

I couldn't help but wonder, "where's Betty?" Perhaps as she looked toward the choir, her choir, she was back in her place again. Maybe she remembered back when she started the music for our chapel and there were only five of them instead of the fifty the choir now has. Since we were in church maybe she remembered starting the bible study she and Don had in their home that led to the beginning of the chapel. Could she be remembering helping start the 4L's club for older ladies needing a place to socialize, fellowship, and pray. It was impossible to know from "the stare" where Betty was at that moment. I can only hope and read into those eyes something good for her.

On the next verse I glance again and I see the stare hoping she is somewhere with children or grandchildren or great-grandchildren. Is she in her garden? She loves to grow beautiful things and unusual. She's forgotten more about plants than I will ever know. It hurts.  Maybe she is remembering all the visits she made in the early days of the chapel inviting people to attend. Probably less than half of the chapel  knows how hard she worked, how outgoing and friendly she could be and that most of us might not be here in this building, enjoying this worship, and singing these songs were it not for her and a handful of other faithful saints.

What disturbs me more is that she may not remember any of this. But I can hope and I hope that behind the stare she hears the beauty of a symphony she and Don attended and supported for years. She loves music. Maybe in her mind she is playing the piano herself, accompanying Cate on the violin. I don't know because her stare can't tell me. It is somewhere far off, in the past, in the future, I can't know. I can only know that she and others with the stare deserved better than this. Her family deserved better than this. But they didn't get it. I get aggravated with God at these times of her confusion, their exhaustion, and everyone's frustration with this disease. I not only ask "where's Betty?" I ask ''where's God?" I ask Him this about a lot of situations. He doesn't say much, at least that I can hear. My theology tells me that even when I can't see or hear much, I should know He does much and that eternity will reveal it. But now the stare hides it. I have to trust that He loves Betty and will take care of her. We sing the third verse: "on every hand the foe we find drawn up in dread array..." Yeah, I see that foe and he put the stare on her face and I hate it. "Faith is the victory....that overcomes the world." I guess that stare is in some ways the battle face of one with a few battles still left to fight. I see that stare and by faith must trust that God sees and feels it too. But it's still haunting and I wonder--where's Betty?

After church we go into the fellowship hall for coffee and conversation. I make my rounds. I try to say "hello" to new faces and faces that seem sad or alone or that I just haven't seen in a while. Then I see Betty. One of the sister saints has seen her too. She knows her, her past, her present, her future. She engages Betty. At that moment Betty smiles, her eyes are bright, she speaks. There is joy. There stare is gone and for a few minutes I know where Betty is. She is here; she is with family by blood and by faith. God is with her in this moment, and though harder to see, He is with her in the stare. She is here and will be until "we vanquish all the hosts of night in Jesus' conquering name."

Faith is the Victory, even when it is hard to see.
II Corinthians 5:7

Cos

Used by permission from the  family. For more information or to volunteer, please call the Alzheimer's Association. The Hill county number is 254.458.6560.

Squeezing the Life Out of It

                                                    Squeezing the Life Out of It


People feel squeezed this time of year around here. It may be everywhere but I know the circle of my knowing often feels they have been caught by a boa constrictor.

What's squeezing everybody? The usual pythons of money, family, time pressures, expectations- both and  real and unreal- plus the ongoing search for meaning in this messy world. It seems that right after Christmas, folks have to pay their real estate taxes, a new set of tires is needed, the water heater breaks, the truck dies, and the furnace goes out--all these literally happening within a half mile of my front door.

And if it is not breaking things needing the attention of money then it is something else out-of-balance and whomperjawed (a west Texas term). Maybe someone's kids made it through Christmas but they and you knew their marriage was in trouble and they split. Your heart breaks and is squeezed. Now someone else has kids whose marriage is okay but their kids started back to school after the Christmas holiday and have gotten the flu. "Could you come and stay with them so we can go to work?" Translated: would you bring yourselves over to catch the flu for us so we can take care of those bills squeezing us in paragraph two? You don't want to get the flu but you go, it's grand kids.  Some kids move home, borrow money or just struggle and their squeezing squeezes you. Other people are being squeezed by other health issues from arthritis to knee replacement to valve replacement to cedar fever to cancer treatments. They feel with every breath their life is squeezed out a little more as the snake tightens its' grip with every exhalation. How am I going to get the next breath?

And frankly, God seems to sit there and let the squeezing go on and on 'til you can hardly breathe. I can't know all the whys and wherefores of pain and squeezings, and I hate cutesy little sayings like 'when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.' Really, in light of the tremendous pain, suffering and honest questions of God and life we give that kind of answer? Tip-toe up to the bed  of a cancer patient burning with chemo induced fever or chills and tell them that. No, I don't pretend to know all the answers. But I have seen some amazing things from God's children being squeezed. They get the Life squeezed out of them.

Because all along God hasn't just been sitting there doing nothing. He has been working from the moment He was invited into your heart to put into your life all the character and qualities of a child of the King. Now this doesn't change the pain of being squeezed, it doesn't dismiss the hell that you or loved ones feel,  but may I ask a question: what comes out of you when you are squeezed? The answer is whatever has been put in or allowed in. At squeezing time, attitudes come out we wish weren't there. At other times anger, selfishness, manipulation and a host of unChrist-like junk leaks out. But as a person submits to His Lordship, learns to trust, leans into Jesus to walk and learn, a wonderful thing begins to happen over the course of living life. No, the squeezing doesn't stop but as life squeezes Life come out. I have seen joy come out of the squeezing of trials. I have seen forgiveness come out of a life squeezed by betrayal. I have watched anger and bitterness squeeze a life, a marriage, a wandering child and love ooze out like a balm to soothe, comfort, and heal. This may not make the pressure easy, but it lends to it a meaning, a dignity, a purpose. The Apostle Paul tackled the issue in II Corinthians 4:7-18, keeping his eyes on an eternal glory that far out weighed the weight of squeezing.

I picture Jesus on the cross, His very life being squeezed out of Him but there issues from Him not just drops of physical blood but the forgiving, healing and loving drops of grace. It's what was in Him.
What does your world around you get when life squeezes you?  What is there will be revealed--when the pressure comes, let them see Jesus.

Cos

Fries With That?

I have realized I need to be more civic minded. Not living in a "city" per se and out in the rural regions has its advantages but it can lull you to sleep about some important matters. I need to work on helping my region grow and develop well.

But how? I have no skill or hardly any experience in these areas. I have ideas. So I put forward this idea that I think would help our area attract more citizens and maybe even more businesses, at least of a certain mindset. Imagine if the Whitney city fathers would pass an ordinance and outlaw fast food restaurants from offering their "upsize" and extra sales pitches for extra food or drink at their drive-thrus. They could, by local law, only say something like, '' welcome, how may I serve you?" 

I guess as I work toward my curmudgeon degree some stuff annoys me more. This drive-thru "up-selling" is one of them. A person has picked one drive-in over four others in a two block area because they have an idea of what they want from that restaurant. I have never been influenced by the uber friendly voice wanting me to try the new mango-lime-chipotle shake. I know no one who has. But you get the recording or the sixteen year old kid trying to win a sales contest trying to sell you more.  I have no idea what twenty-five year old with a new MBA talked these huge corporations into thinking that delaying and annoying customers was a good idea but we have all suffered through the sales pitches before we can order our Diet Dr Pepper. I hope when that person gets to heaven, if he makes it, that St. Peter asks him when he gets to the Pearly Gates, "you want wings with that robe? for ten more good deeds you get a halo.'' before he lets him in.

Anyway, if Whitney were to pass an ordinance forbidding this irksome habit, I'm sure hundreds if not a half-dozen people would flock to Whitney just to avoid the "you want fries with that?" (Really, lots of people dip fries into strawberry shakes?) Or "would you like to make that a value meal?'' (so your meal has no value as I ordered it?)  Or "would you like to add some cheesecake bites to go with your diet Dr Pepper?" (Yes, I would, but do you think I'd be ordering a diet drink if I could eat cheesecake on a whim?)

I could imagine a drive-thru conversation happening at a local establishment....

"Ding-ding"  (car going over electronic triggering device)

"Welcome to Burger Barn. Would you like to try our deluxe triple-decker with three cheeses extra-value meal with complementary napkins and 10% off coupons to litter your floorboard?"

"No, thank-you. Do you realize that I am 59 yeas old with a graduate degree and 35 years of experience in my profession and managed to drive a two ton vehicle to your restaurant and am capable of ordering a meal?"

"No, sir, but in that case we have a baby-boomer special with extra lettuce on the thawed out grilled chicken patty."

"No, thank-you and I realize you  are probably only 16 years old doing exactly what you were trained to do by your manager who learned to teach you that in a seminar in Little Rock, but at my age, education, and socio-economic level did it ever occur to you that I may have a good idea of what I wanted before I picked this drive-thru over the others within a few blocks."

"No, sir. Sorry, sir. What may I get for you, sir?"

"I want a large diet Dr Pepper with lots of ice."

"Yes, sir. That will be $1.37. Would you like fries with that....opps, sorry. Pull to first window, please.....

Thirty seconds later from within the drive-in window was heard:

"Hey, dudes, look! Mr. Graduate Degree with 35 years experience paid for his drink at the first window, forgot his change and left his drink at the pick-up window as he drove off in his two ton vehicle. We should have asked if he wanted brains with that?"

On second thought, I think I will stick with Kingdom growth and let the town officials take care of city growth. In the Kingdom everything you need is free and already up-sized. In the Kingdom, the King is the special value.

I'll take that,

Cos

New Glasses

                                                       New Glasses


He had reached the age where there was more to see in the rear view mirror of life than the years that lie ahead. It wasn't a surprise and not depressing but it still crossed his mind as he went to have his eyes examined.  How many more pair of glasses would he need in this life? Two, three, four at the most...He knew he would need a new pair of specs even if the prescription hadn't changed. The old ones were scratched and stretched. His bride of forty years pointed out they were out of style, too. He felt he could see just fine but eye health was important so he made his appointment.

He began to think about all he had seen in these old glasses--about seven years of sights, he recollected. Two grandchildren appeared through their lenses, two moves, a couple of used cars, a few dozen new friends, seven holiday seasons, 1000+ Sonic happy hour diet dr peppers, a thousand eyes looking back at him and over a hundred thousand miles of highways. These eyes had cried at a couple of dozen funerals of family and friends and watched faces add a line or two with the passing of days. It was kinda funny how the happy faces were still happy and the sad faces pretty much still sad.  He had had the chance for 2456 sunrises and sunsets and he probably noticed half or less of them.

He did notice something else about his vision, something that was a bit disconcerting, a tad troublesome. Something he wasn't sure how to explain.

In mid-thought the doctor came in and began his exam. "Which is better, one or two? Two or three? Three or four?'' "Tell me when one set of lines crosses directly under another... ok.... and again. Now tell me which is better, one or two? Two or three? Very good. Your eyes have changed a little, consistent with a person of your age. Other than a slight change to your prescription, your eyes are healthy. I do suggest you get a new pair of glasses, I'm afraid these frames have had it.

"Yeah, Doc, I know. But I am a little worried about my vision.

"Really, what's bothering you? Your eyes are healthy......"

"Well, Doc, I see the past much better than the future. And even the past is clouded with nostalgia. Every thing I view with hindsight seems better, clearer. I know it wasn't but looking back the Cowboys won, my elected officials appeared more virtuous, my values were accepted by nearly everyone, and looking back it seems like everything was simpler, slower. I know it wasn't but it seems that way to me. Then when I look to the future it is so cloudy. It looks foreign, out-of-place. I can't make out where I fit in it. Everything goes by so quickly. I need to be able to see some hope, some meaning, some purpose, some virtue and nobility in my life. Can you help me see a future like that, Doc?"

"I don't have any glasses for that. If I did I buy the first pair and sell a hundred a day. I think for that prescription you had better go see your pastor."

"I am the pastor......................."


God grant us Your vision, may we see through the eyes of Jesus Your world, Your future, and our lives.

Cos

A Different Christmas

                                                      A Different Christmas


DaniRae had had it! She was fed up with all the gifts, all the parties, all the lights, all the food, all the sales, all the ads, and everything associated with Christmas. Even the church was getting on her last nerve with all their special services and projects that just piled on the fatigue and thinned out her patience. "They are supposed to preserve the true meaning of Christmas and they just vie for your attention like every store, TV special, kid and elf in the universe! I've had it." DaniRae swore to herself that next year Christmas would be different.

Her soul was at war and it seemed to be losing.

It didn't help that one of  the grandkids was in the high school football playoffs for the first two weekends in December and the other one that played basketball had a tournament the third weekend. Time to shop, decorate, cook, clean, or just breathe was spent driving 90 minutes to occupy a cold aluminum seat for over two hours. She tried to be happy and celebrate but DaniRae was just worn out. Fatigue steals gratitude. She was acting the part of a happy Christian, wife, mother, and grandmother. So far she felt she was in the running for an Oscar, but she seriously doubted she could hold it together much longer. She swore to herself again that next Christmas would be different--less stress, fewer gifts, less spent, just simple and quiet--different!

"If I can just get some good sleep, maybe I can just pull this Christmas off without turning into a Banshee woman."  She went to bed at 12:30 on the 22nd and woke up at 4:30 AM. Wide awake but with achy joints and a runny nose. "Thanks, God. Now cedar fever on top of it all." Her cough interrupted her complaint. So she got up and resented the fact that her husband just snored right on through. Into the den with a blanket to sit-up in the recliner...''maybe if I sit up I can still sleep a little." She was wide awake.

Then she looked around and noticed in the stillness, in the quiet, the manger scene on the hearth. It was still in it's  old popcorn can they stored it in. She hadn't even set it out yet. She moved quietly to the hearth and unpacked the contents. The camels, the wise men, the shepherds and sheep and even a cow was there. Preacher said something about there probably not being a cow in those days but who cares. Mary and Joseph were there and the angel to take her place above the stable, and the manger. No baby Jesus. In the semi-dark she searched. In the stable, in the popcorn can, no where. Maybe he was stuck in the legs of the animals, in the rafters of the stable. No where. This development was bothersome but she assembled the scene and promised to search again in the morning light. She plugged in the manger scene light, it had a star that lit up above the angel's head, and settled back into the recliner and hoped for a little sleep. DaniRae actually did feel a little sleepy now. It felt good to get the manger scene out. She began to gaze into it. The angel, the wise men, the wise camels, poor shepherds and dumb sheep.  In the glow of the star she thought she saw something. There in the tissue used to pack  and pad the popcorn tin.... she got up to investigate...there He was...wrapped up in the swaddling of old gift bag tissue was the missing Jesus.

DaniRae settled back down and thought  for a few minutes about what had just happened. For the first time this season, she rested, she de-stressed, she prayed. DaniRae knew this Christmas had been like the ten before and the next ten would probably be the same. But she vowed something to herself, maybe to God this morning with nose dripping, hacking cough and weepy eyes. She wouldn't necessarily try to make Christmas different next year, but she would first find the One who makes a difference and unwrap Him from the swaddling of cultural fluff and worship Him. If you want Christmas to be different, find the One who makes the difference. Find Him first, find Him often.

Merry Christmas,
Cos

How About a Fifth for Christmas?

                                            How About a Fifth for Christmas?


All Christendom that celebrates Advent is right in the middle of her celebrations, festivities, musicals, parties, and general busy-ness that takes place not only at the mall, but at the church. Churches work to add some routine, some reflection and some anticipation to focus on the birth of Jesus in the midst of the commercial juggernaut rolling over society at this time. The lighting of the Advent candles in the evergreen wreath focus on the hope, peace, joy, and love of Jesus. All is good and well. We need the stillness. We need the consistency. We need the reflection. We need the simplicity.

We need another candle.

Yes, I am messing with tradition. Yes, the church has done it pretty much this way for a thousand years. Shoot, if you count the early days of the 4th and 5th centuries when Advent was observed in Spain and Gaul as a season of preparation for baptism of new Christians at the Feast of Epiphany in January each year, then it goes back longer than that. Those really early days were more penance and reflection than celebration , however. But Advent evolved into the four Sundays before celebrating the Christ  Mass so a final four was somehow decided upon and they are hope, peace, joy and love.

We need another candle. I pastor a church with about ten different denominations worshipping and working together. (Don't ask me how it works 'cause if I knew I'd probably mess it up.) I could probably tell the church that there are a few denominations that have a fifth candle in the wreaths and we need to include one in ours so as not to make them feel left out. That, however, would be a lie and lying's not on the Advent calendar. Just ask Santa Claus.

But without lying I'd still like to lobby for a fifth, candle that is. Why is there no candle of faith? Faith\trust is integral to everything in our relationship with Jesus. We place our trust in Christ and He gives us reason to hope. Frankly, we often have to look back through the lens of scripture and see in our own lives, in the lives of other Christians, and certainly into the rich history of the church and know our hope is secure even if current events cloud our vision for this day. We trust that God is in control, that His promises are true, and that His Spirit gives peace to each believer. We trust peace is not the absent of outer conflict but the real presence of Jesus in our hearts.  We have joy because our faith in Jesus is born and borne out in daily living with confident assurance that Jesus was, is, and will be victorious as He moves us and history to His appointed ends.  Thus the joy of the Lord is our strength in facing daunting circumstances just as," for the joy set before Him,"  Jesus endured the cross. And love,  no love-relationship is ever built or grown without trust at the bedrock of that relationship. Jesus has loved us and we trust His love and respond in kind, loving Him back.

I want a fifth candle. I won't get one. But even with no wax, wick, or flame,  faith is no less real. In a few days the Advent wreath will be put away for another year. We won't put away hope, peace, joy or love in our lives and I trust faith will not be on a shelf in the closet either. I suppose if we got to counting properly there would be an aspect of God's character that could be honored, celebrated, worshipped, and served every day of the year and in multiples. Yeah, I know, that would be too many candles for a wreath, but not too many lights for a heart. Maybe that's how He lights our way.


Cos

December Flies

                                                December Flies


Quick, pesky, out-of-place. He should have frozen by now. But now he is crawling on my bald head, before on my arm, a jump and he's on my computer screen. SHOO!

Momentary relief... now he's back. December Fly mocks me. He crawls on my hand and I shake him off. He lands on desk inches from my hand poised to strike. I flinch, and he's gone again. He is spreading his germs, grime, and growing my agitation from book to Bible to to paper to phone. The pest takes on predator dimensions. I strike out in frustration. Miss! Why for the 60 days that he lives has he invaded this desk at this time? Shouldn't he be looking for food or a female fly? Maybe he is a she and that't why it is so persistent.

December Fly's by the window now. He can stay there and I'd be happy. Happiness in this world is short lived. He has moved and I don't know where. He will soon dive-bomb me and I am anxious about when.
There! He has flown to the desk and landed on 'The Wit and Wisdom of Abraham Lincoln.' I pick up an Advent devotional book on the other side of the desk and slowly, quietly rolled it up. December Fly's found a speck, a smell, a trace of something on the book that has captured his attention, or maybe he just likes Lincoln. He is still. The Advent devotion is steady now above him. WHACK!

Then the irony hits me. Between a book of quotes about the man who freed this nation from the disease of slavery and was cut down prematurely and a booklet on the Prince of Peace, December Fly's ushered into eternity. 

I feel a bit sad. For the first time I've killed a fly and had some regret by linking the tiny creature to larger events in human history. Isn't this pretty much what we did to Jesus? His truth pestered us about our sin, our lack of relationship with Him, our pride, our spiritual independence, our need. Instead of facing it we shooed Him to the cross. Be gone. 

Now December flies by and in the rush and hustle we may very well shoo the One we celebrate into the irrelevance of gifts and lights and ornaments and food and parties. Just stay in the manger, Jesus and don't fly to our hearts and minds with grace, forgiveness, and change. We like flies  Jesus on our terms and as December flies we need You to stay in the manger scene and be small and quiet. 

Oh for crying out loud, it was just a stupid fly. I lift the Advent devotion book up to reveal the carnage and brush away the remains of the day. There is nothing there.

And Jesus won't stay where we put Him either, unless it is on the throne of our hearts. I'll try to remember that as December flies.