I know before I write even a word of what I'm feeling led to post here that many- especially of the young- will automatically jump to the conclusion that I'm being "right wing" bigoted and fundamentalist hard-nosed.  Nothing I can say will dissuade them that this is not just another "Republican" post, ranting on about "nothing" while corporate greed and corruption, worldwide poverty and trafficking, and environmental "rape" goes unnoticed and unaddressed by the "religious right".  I can only say that I was addressing many of these "newly discovered" worldwide concerns of theirs long before many of today's advocates were born.  I, too, am deeply concerned about each of those things, and have dedicated a lifetime trying to address them, not just with words, but with meaningful action. I have tried to put my money and my sweat where my mouth is on each of these and many other such issues.  I have avoided political posturing like the plague.

However, why is it inappropriate for me to be bothered by the unplugging of the microphone for a young valedictorian, headed for the military academy, because he had dared to mention his faith as part of his life story in his graduation address.  I realize that the school system had an "unplug" policy.  I've also read their policy (Have you?) and it is designed to avoid vulgarity, personal attacks upon school officials or fellow students, anything off-color or distasteful or any rabble rousing tactics.  It is designed to encourage the speakers to highlight their life story, hopes and dreams for the future.  The ONLY possible infraction of this young man was violating the phrase "infringe upon the rights of others".  I guess that's why he was unplugged.  Nothing else in their policy fit anything he said or did.

My question: What about the valedictorian's right to talk about his life, his hopes and dreams as the school encourages?  If he does it sensitively, in kindness, not condescendingly nor gratuitously, does he not have rights to be considered, too?  When one set of rights conflict with another set of rights, are we, as a nation, at a place now where the Christian is always the one who must yield?  I realize that Christians should, at heart, be people who willingly give up their rights for the sake of others.  I've preached and practiced that for years.  BUT, even Jesus stood firm at times in the face of the Pharisaical mindset of his day.  Here's the deal.  No one seems willing to ask these days, Can non-religious people have a Pharisaical mindset that needs at times to be firmly confronted?  I say "Yes!".  The prideful arrogance of the FFRF (Freedom from Religion Foundation) is modern-day Pharisaism at its worst- prideful, arrogant  obsession regarding one's view of God.  If Christians have that kind of attitude, their microphones need to be turned off.  But, if Christians are simply sharing life and hopes and dreams and that's impossible to do without mentioning Jesus- and, if the militant FFRF is threatening to "remove schools from the synagogue" unless they turn off the microphone, I think there comes a time to leave the microphone on.  The school would NOT have been in violation of any mandates, including their own policy, had they simply let the young man be heard.  I'm weary of hearing of schools running scared and "throwing the baby out with the bath water" in the name of "playing it safe."  I don't want my grandkids to be always having to second-guess their words when Jesus comes to mind.

Maybe I want too much.  Maybe I just need to help get my grandkids ready to live in a far, far different country that the one in which I grew up.  And I'm working on that, too.  But I will never encourage them to be ashamed of Jesus.  I will encourage them to be kind, gracious, loving.  But never ashamed.  If that has become the criteria for being a good "Christian" in today's America, then I guess the microphone will be pulled on many generations in the Calvin family in the future.  And that makes me sad.  Just sayin'!  Not mad- just sad.

AVOID EGO ATTACKS

I've alluded a few times in previous posts how urgently important it is to avoid ego attacks at ALL costs when involved in a heated argument.  Let me expand on that idea a bit.  Couples/families can disagree and even argue on virtually any topic/issue and have their relationship remain relatively intact when it is over (all other things being equal); however, when one or more get off issue and onto personal attacks (in order to "score points"), they will inflict irreparable harm upon each other and upon the relationship.  

What are ego attacks?  Anything that verbally diminishes the value of the other person: sarcasm, hurtful comments regarding appearance, intellect, family heritage, weight, habits, etc., as well as continually dredging up the past in unhealthy ways.  Basically, "You" statements, spoken with anger- "You are so... (fill in the blank)."  The writer of Proverbs says that the power of life and death resides in the tongue and we need to be people who are best known for speaking life into everyone, especially those closest to us.

When I coached debate in the seventies and eighties, I noticed a tendency for the better teams to engage in ego attacks upon their opponents when they sensed that they were losing the round (Sorta like politicians do nowadays).  I told my teams that if I ever saw them doing that, I would forfeit the round and we would go home the losers, even if it were in the state finals.  I wanted them to win on issues- not condescension.  If I felt that strongly about ego attacks in debate, you can imagine my feelings regarding it in marriage and family.

A quarter century ago, we had a young lady come for counseling with anorexia nervosa.  Although she weighed a mere 79 pounds, she saw herself as fat.  She recalled a time when she was eleven years old and her dad- a verbally abusive man- screamed a her: "I don't see what the boys see in you anyway, as fat as you are!!"  Sixteen years later, at 79 pounds, she still clung to her daddy's assessment of her.  Sad isn't it.  The power of life or death resides in the tongue.  I urge you, for the sake of your family, CHOOSE LIFE!!

FALLING DOWN

This is one of those things that, hopefully, you will go a lifetime without EVER needing to employ.  It is ONLY for those times when anger is very obviously about to "take over"- yelling, personal attacks, on the verge of throwing things.  I owe this suggestion, too, to Dr. Paul Faulkner.

When you sense that the anger curve is about to spiral out of control, one of you- it doesn't matter which one- fall out on the floor, limp as a dishrag- wherever you are (You'll only do it in public once- from then on, you'll reserve your spats to the house!).  Now, the other person walks over and lies down on the floor, too- head-to-head with the first person.  Get the picture?  You now have two grown adults lying on the floor, head-to-head, looking at the ceiling, arms outstretched.  NOW, pick up the disagreement wherever you left it when the first one fell to the ground and continue hashing it out (No ego attacks- see previous posts!) and talk it through until both of you feel comfortable getting up.  That's it.  "But, what will the kids think?"  Well, I hope you're not guilty of having arguments with that sort of intensity in front of your kids; however, if you are and you fall down, they'll LOVE it.  They'll be asking you about it, lying beside you, crawling on top of you, and, whatever they do, they'll be SO much more comfortable than they were when things were so intense that they wondered if you were both about to kill each other.

This works when needed for two reasons: it provides a "cooling down" moment.  It's hard to remain as intense as you were when your spouse has just fallen to the floor.  And, when you're "doing battle" you're wanting to see the whites of the "enemy's" eyes.  (In such intense arguments, you're treating your mate like an enemy because you're trying to "win".  Two things to remember at such times: the only enemy is Satan- the one who's wanting to devastate your relationship- are you going to let him win?  And, in these kinds of intense arguments, when one of you "wins", both lose.)  You don't need to see the whites of their eyes.  And falling on the floor allows you to hash things out, without trying to see when you "score a victory", so you both concentrate better on a solution rather than a "win".

More than thirty years ago, I had a couple come for counseling who had gotten into such a fight that they had actually thrown things at each other.  I suggested this exercise because, quite frankly, at that time, it was about the only suggestion I had in my "tool kit".  I saw the couple a few years ago- thirty years of marriage, grown kids, grandkids on the way, elder in the church.  They thanked me for the "falling down" recommendation.  They said that they'd only had to employ it a very few times in three decades, but just knowing they had it as a possibility, helped them keep their disagreements on a healthier level than they had sunk to prior to coming to see me.  SO, it works IF you ever need it.  Hopefully, you never will.  

4/30

Much of the anger in our homes has as much to do with timing as it does with issue.  We drop something heavy on each other just before we head off to work in the morning or immediately upon arrival at home in the afternoon, and then we either steam all day about it or else the evening sinks quickly into cold silence.

So, let's take some advice I heard Dr. Paul Faulkner give decades ago, and work on that, shall we?

Let's designate four thirty minute periods of our day as "sacred", meaning that we promise that we as a couple/family will refuse to allow ourselves to lay anything heavy or negative on each other during these four thirty minute sacred spaces.  Here are the Four Sacred Times: the first thirty minutes after we arise in the morning, the last thirty minutes before we go off to work/school, (By the way, in too many American families, these are the same thirty minutes- in other words, we are creating our own stress by how late we get up each morning.  By the time our feet hit the floor, we are already in a hurry, running, rushing, grabbing a quick Pop-Tart, irritated at ourselves and taking it out on each other.  We need to set the alarm a little earlier and hit the snooze button a little less!), the first thirty minutes home from work/school, and the last thirty minutes before we go to bed.  That two hours of each day should be reserved for positive, healthy conversation only.

Some might argue, "Well, that wouldn't leave any time for fussing."  My answer, "Would that be so bad?"  And besides, we would still find the time to discuss those heavy things that need discussing.  I know because I've had hundreds of clients over the years who have practiced this discipline successfully and have come back to thank me for suggesting it.  I always say, "Thank Paul Faulkner.  He's the guy who taught it to me"  Thanks, Paul.  Not just for this, but for all you and Carl Brecheen have done over the years to help Joan and me get to Anniversary #47 next Tuesday, June 4th.  We couldn't have done it without you.

93/7

Is intense anger ever a problem in your home/family?  You might remind yourself of this: only 7% of any attempt at communication is comprised of the words themselves.  The other 93% is comprised of : our tonal quality, our decibel level, our facial expression, our body language, and our gestures.  Don't believe it?  Try this experiment:  Walk up to your sweet little puppy and say, "I sure do love you."  BUT, here's the catch:  wrinkle your brow,  shake your fist, deepen your voice to a growl, and scream at the top of your lungs: "ROVER, I SURE DO LUUUUV YOU!!!!!"  What's Rover going to do?  What any sweet puppy in his right mind would do in those circumstances: tuck tail and run.  OR, growl back real good, bearing his teeth, if his fears really take over.

You see, here's the problem: when we're embroiled in a heated discussion with a family member, what we're hoping for is light.  We want the light bulb to go on in our family member's head so that they will see things with the same clarity with which we see things, BUT when we yell and scream at each other, we get so much heat that light becomes impossible.  We had a bad day at work or school so we naturally take it out on those we love the very most- after all, they won't leave us- or will they?

SO, let's stop yelling and screaming at each other in our homes- what do you say?  And while we're at it, let's avoid ego attacks at all costs and replace "YOU" accusations with "I" statements.  Do those things and we just might be on the road to restoring family to the safe haven that it once had the reputation of being.  Wouldn't that be something?  

FORGIVING

Refusing to forgive another for hurting me is like drinking poison and expecting my "enemy" to die.  Forgiving that person, on the other hand, is simply letting go and letting God deal with that person as He chooses.  God bought that right when He forgave me.  So, I give up what I thought was my "right" to hold onto a grudge to the only One who actually owns that right.  I give up my "right" to hurt you for hurting me.  In such release lies genuine freedom.

Forgiveness is NOT amnesia.  preachers who say, "Forgive and forget," don't have a clue.  You'll never completely forget the offense against you.  Joseph hadn't forgotten his brothers' infractions.  But he'd most certainly forgiven them.  He treated them as though they had never hurt him.  Even the Holy Spirit had not forgotten David's "matter with Uriah the Hittite" hundreds of years after it's occurrence.  Yet, that same Holy Spirit calls David a man after God's own heart.

Forgiveness is practicing purposefully selective memory.  I have a "booklet" in my mind entitled "How to Ride a Bicycle".  It's on the fifth floor, far corner, top shelf, collecting dust and cobwebs.  I have another book entitled Ways Folks Have Hurt Me.  It needs to be up there on the fifth floor with the bicycle booklet.  BUT, too frequently in my life, that insidious volume lies open on the table right at the front door of the library of my mind, dog-eared, highlighted, underlined, read and re-read multiple times each day.  How will I ever heal, if I continue to pour over the pages of this horror story?  I MUST choose to let it go.

Forgiveness is NOT stamping an approval upon what the other person has done to me.  It will not always result in an immediate restoration of the relationship to its former state.  If one of my daughters had ever dated an abusive young man, I could, by God's grace have forgiven him.  I could NOT, nor would I have ever encouraged my daughter to date him again.  NEVER.

Forgiveness is, in its simplest terms, refusing my tendency to play God.  He is Judge.  I am not.  He settles the score, here or hereafter.  I cannot.  He is God. I am most certainly not.  It helps to remind myself of that, especially when someone has hurt me.

GRACE

Grace is the air that is breathed by every believer.  It is the breathing tube extended from heaven to us as we are buried under the rubble of a fallen world.  It is the oxygen mask placed by God upon our face as we lie in spiritual ICU, racked by the worries, cares and stressors of our daily lives.  It is the refreshing breeze of the Spirit as we walk and talk with Him in the cool of the day.  It is the winter chill that engulfs our souls as our hearts break with the things that break His heart.  It is the summer wind that allows us to set sail on the incredible journey He has designed for us to enjoy.  It is the spring storm that reminds us of our reliance upon Him.  It is the still small voice that whispers His love song in our ears.  Whatever else life is, it is all of grace.  Amazing Grace!  How sweet the sound! 

The Altar of PC

I have been dealing with political correctness most of my adult life.  Granted, most of my dealings have been with pc in a church setting because that was the calling I heard from God almost a half century ago.  How frequently I found myself speaking out on topics that simply were not to be addressed in the "product-of-the-fifties" church.  Churches were not to have fellowship halls.  I spoke out.  Women were not to wear pants to church services.  I spoke out.  We at times seemed swelled with the pride of "We're the only ones going to heaven".  I spoke out.  I spoke out concerning what I perceived to be maltreatment of divorced people.  I tried to say, God hates divorce because it hurts people and he loves people- so let's stop behaving as though God hates divorced people.

I spoke out concerning a few items that my study had caused me to conclude are NOT salvation issues when VERY few were speaking out on those issues.  I begged us to be more loving to folks like Pat Boone when his practice of certain spiritual gifts prompted ostracism from many in our fellowship.  When it was not pc to suggest that certain gifts should not be relegated to first century only, I spoke out.  I spoke out.  But I never stopped loving the people- especially those who disagreed with me.  In fact, to this day, those very folks are among the ones that I hold in highest regard and have the deepest love for- and among those I expect to be greeted by in heaven some day.

I know political correctness.  And, quite frankly, I've lived much of my adult life lovingly, but firmly standing against the paralyzing nature of this insidious, crippling monster within the church.  Many in today's younger generation carry that torch as well and I applaud them for their efforts.  I. too, think we as Christians should walk the walk in a "post-Christian" world (whatever that means).  For years, I've said, "I sought myself, my self I could not see.  I sought my God, my God alluded me.  I sought my brother and found all three."  We need to live lives of service.  I applaud the calls to that kind of life by today's "rebels".

BUT, I am beleaguered.  In my day, as I was speaking out about what I perceived to be abuses in the church, I was also allowed to speak out about what seemed to be societal sin that needed to be addressed.  I did not do so with religious nastiness of spirit, but with the same loving firmness with which I addressed internal issues.  Now there is a new "god" in town- one that did not exist in the sixties- the god of Political Correctness.  I use upper case for it, not because it is necessarily worse than the old church politics, but because it has been allowed to become so all-pervasive, so all-encompassing.  In many ways, PC has come to control our lives today and I have always thought and preached that only God deserves that position in our lives. 

According to PC, there are a few "sins" (although a different word should probably be used) which are ok to address.  Corporate greed and corruption.  Failure to reach out to the poor, suffering, and disenfranchised.  Preach on, brothers!  I'm with you on those.  BUT, there's a whole list of topics that one simply should not address.  For example, if I share the true story of the doctor who advised Joan and me to abort our third child, and I then go on to speak of the lives she has blessed because we chose life, I have automatically "crossed the line".  I am being political.  No I'm not!  Now I realize that perhaps the religious right can be blamed for turning these topics into political issues as opposed to the spiritual/moral/ethical category that they had formerly been assigned to.  However, the problem is that no one wants to address any of these issues any more.  And when one dares to try, he is automatically labeled dogmatic, militant, mean-spirited, pharisaical, no matter how loving his spirit may be in attempting to promote thought on any of these subjects.

And the problem becomes that, in the name of behaving like the Prince of Peace, we default to acquiescence. And Jesus, while loving folks deeply, did not acquiesce.  He loved the woman at the well with a genuine love that surpassed the ways she had ever been "loved" by any of the men who had used her, abused her, and thrown her away, yet he brought her to a place of confronting her tendency to find her meaning in men rather than in God.  He said to the woman taken in adultery, "Neither do i condemn you."  But he also said, "Go and sin no more."  Love was his approach.  But acquiescence wasn't.  He called sin, sin.  Not in harsh terms, except to the religiously prideful, but in direct terms, nonetheless. We seem today to be kneeling at the altar of PC to such a degree that we are becoming absolutely paralyzed to even dare to mention anything that causes us concern in society unless it is on the "approved list" of "sins" (corporate greed, ignoring the hurting, environmental thoughtlessness, etc). 

So, our grandkid's school gets taken to court for allowing the word God in a school program because one student's parents were offended, and we are expected to acquiesce.  A physician is convicted of murder for snipping the spinal chord of a baby, surviving an abortion, and we are not supposed to ask, would it have been murder had it occurred just moments and a few inches sooner while the baby was still in the mother's womb?  That question is "inappropriate".  It shows a disdain for the woman involved.  No, it doesn't.  I've tenderly cared for dozens of post-abortion PTSD young ladies in my counseling practice.  I have LOTS of concern for the ladies involved.  Yet, if I address the baby involved, my motives are automatically questioned and I'm labeled a dogmatic "right winger".  I've chosen here to address only one of the many "politically off-limits" topics- you know what some of the others are without my mentioning them.

Here's my concern?  How can things get any better, if we're all forbidden from speaking out?  How would things be in the church today if some of us had not dared to speak out concerning perceived abuses?  What makes today's societal woes any different? I would say to those younger, "By all means continue to address abuse within the church. But don't stop loving your brothers and sisters who may or may not agree with you. AND, be very careful about bowing at the altar of societal PC.  No one deserves such allegiance but Yahweh."    

I'm sure glad it's alright to ask "Why?" at times like this.  Because the tragic death of so many children causes that question to rattle around inside the head of this old grandpa.  But Job asked why.  And so did David.  And even Jesus asked why- "My God, my God, WHY have you forsaken me?"  So, I'll not allow myself to feel guilty for asking it.  I guess as long as we live in a war-torn, disease-ravaged, catatrophe-prone world, we will be asking that question occasionally.  This is one of those times.

And I realize that some folks at such times as these shake their fists at the heavens saying basically, "I could do a better job of running this world than Whoever may/or may not be out there!"  I can't do that.  At these kinds of times, I desperately need to be able to spend time with Someone- a Father- One who understands what it's like to see a son- an only son- die.  AND I desperately need to believe that those babies, those precious children, were able to run right into a pair of big, strong, loving arms for a warm embrace at the very instant they needed it most.  And if I allow such times as these to cause me to sacrifice my faith on the altar of suffering, I lose not only the children- I lose everything.

So, even without answers to the why questions, I choose to remain close to the Eternal Who who promises never to leave us or forsake us- Who pledges to meet us precisely at the point of our deepest sorrow- Who says that He will catch our tears in His jar.  Calvary screams that He meets us in moments of most intense suffering.  The Empty Tomb shouts that this disease-ravaged, war-torn, catastrophe-prone world is not home.  Lord, I believe.  Please help my unbelief.  Come Lord Jesus!

After being most impressed with America's churches and educational institutions, de Tocqueville said, "America is great because America is good.  If America ever ceases to be good, she will cease to be great."  Let's see, how's that working for us?  A doctor, trained to save lives, is convicted of murdering babies by "snipping" their spinal cords, while joking about how large the babies are, and spokespersons for one of America's most highly touted organizations rejoices that women will now be safe from doctors like him- NO MENTION OF THE BABIES.  One of our embassies is attacked and ambassadors killed, politically motivated untruths are told and the question is asked, "What difference does it make?"
Americans who dare have a desire to help people better understand the constitution and the bill of rights are targeted by the IRS.  And their leaders admit, "Yes, we did."  A major news agency has its telephone conversation records targeted for monitoring by the government, and our leaders say, "It was justified."
"America is great because America is good.  If America ever ceases to be good, she will cease to be great."  HELLO!!

A Room Called Remember

One of my favorite preacher/writers, Frederick Buechner, preached a sermon years ago that has become a classsic.  It is called A Room Called Remember.  He suggests that we live in such a religiously hyperactive, noisy culture that we seldom pause to quietly reflect upon our lives, our blessings, our walk with the Lord.  He recommends that while we still have the mental faculties to do so (prior to the invasion of the thief called Dementia), we all take time to visit that special room.

Having retired in January, I am taking Buechner at his word.  I am setting aside quality time each day especially for the Room Called Remember.  I am revisiting my childhood, my adolescence, the early years of Joan's and my life together, our 47 year marriage, our 48 years of ministry (Yes, we ministered as a dating couple more than a year prior to our marriage), the churches that have impacted us, the myriads of Godly people who have blessed our socks off over the years.  Wow!  God is good!  Even in the painful moments, He showed up mightily.

If you can find a minute or two today, I highly recommend that you invest some time walking into The Room Called Remember.  That's one visit you'll be forever glad you took the time to make.

FURLOUGH STORIES

We studied the stories of the healing of Aeneas and the raising from the dead of Tabitha (Dorcas) at Meadowlakes this week and it made me think of those times when I was a kid and heard the late evangelist Marshall Keeble refer to such stories as Tabitha's as "Furlough Stories".  I not only think he was right; I also think that unless we capture that understanding of such stories, we'll continue our relentless religious arguing about such stories until the Lord comes again.  A furlough is a temporary reprieve from the heat of battle, followed by a return to battle.

Through this reference, Keeble was calling attention to the reality that while Aeneas was healed of his paralysis, at some point in his future he was undoubtedly faced with a new battle with some sort of disease.  And Tabitha who was raised from the dead, at some point in her future lay on her death bed again.  How important it is for us to understand that about such stories as this.  Otherwise we miss the most important point of such stories.

Throughout religious history, two distinct extremes have arisen regarding such stories.  On the one hand are those who say, "God does not do that kind of thing anymore."  In fact, their implication is that God cannot do things like that anymore.  Can He?  Of course He can!  He is God, isn't He?  He can do what ever He chooses.  Will He?  I don't know the answer to that.  And neither do you.  And because I know He can, and I don't know if He will, in each case of sickness and oncoming death, I'm going to choose to pray with every fiber of my being, persistently and doggedly, just as Jesus encouraged us to do.  And I'm going to pray trusting that whatever God chooses to do or not do will grow out of His great heart of love, whether it appears that way to me or not.

The other side suggests that every case of illness has a healing awaiting it IF we can just believe hard enough.  Some of these folks even believe they have been eyewitnesses to modern-day raisings from the dead.  Now, you may choose to debate these folks.  I don't.  But I am concerned that they seem to be turning faith into a "work" upon which miracles or the lack of them turn.  What a burden upon our shoulders!  And they seem to imply that ongoing life with no death experienced here is the norm, or could be, with sufficient faith.  I, on the other hand, don't believe this is home.  It's not a perfect place, never has been since the Fall of Man, and eternal life transcends anything that can be experienced by mere earthly existence.

In my thinking, both sides miss the point of the furlough stories.  What happened when Aeneas got sick again.  I'm betting he was encouraged, knowing that disease is NOT Lord- Jesus is!  What about Tabitha on her death bed?  I'm betting the fears that beset her the first time were not present the second time because she had learned first-hand that death is NOT Lord- Jesus is!  Fear gone!  Anticipation as to what Jesus might do this time oozing out of their every pore.  Life becomes an adventure.  Disease cannot scare us.  Death will not frighten us.  Now, that is real living!! 

A friend asked me last week, "How's retirement?"  Then he follwed that with one of those probing questions that only those who really love you would dare to ask, "Are you OK- in HERE?" (He pointed to his heart.)  I knew what he was asking: "Are you feeling good about your decision?  Do you have any regrets?  From the inside out, is this retirement thing a good thing for you?"
My instant answer was "yes."  But then I thought.  And thought some more.  And some more.  Those kinds of loving questions do that to you.  In fact, I've thought about that question (and my answer) for a week now.  It was the right answer.  But I needed to examine why.  And I have.  And the reason this retirement thing is such a good fit for me is summed up in one word: presence.  Presence has always been a big word for me.  I've preached it. Taught it.  Lectured on it.  Done seminars about it.  "Whereever you are, be there!"  That's my most famous line.  Be in the moment.
And I think Joan and my family would tell you that I've done a fairly good job at it most of the time- but only because I've worked awfully hard at it.  I, by nature, am one of those "cross all your t's and dot all your i's" kind of guys.  And the problem is, I've devoted half a century to three professions (teaching, preaching, and counseling) that share one common reality: the t's are never all crossed and the i's are never all dotted.  That makes it very hard for a guy like me to be present- to enjoy the moment.  To savor this breath, this day, this hour.  Until now.
In recent weeks, when I've watched grandaughters cheer, I've really been there.  When I've tossed a ball to grandkids in the backyard, I've savored the moment.  When I've watched grandkids play their various sporting events or participate in their school programs, my mind has been nowhere else but there.  For perhaps the first time in my adult life, I have genuinely been present.  I never realized how absent I had been all those years until I experienced what genuine presence feels like at the core of one's being. Wow!!
Now, the aim of this blog is NOT to encourage you to hurry up and retire so you can enjoy genuine presence.  I'm attempting to say to you: don't make the mistake I made.  Don't wait until retirement before you allow yourself to truly let go and relish each moment deep down in your soul.  Yes, retirement works well for me.  Presence makes all the difference.  It always will.  And you don't have to retire to realize it.

Joan just reminded me of an interesting irony.  January 22 is the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade.  How ironic!  Let me provide the back story:

In early 1974, Joan and I were in the office of the obstetrician who had attended her during the pregnancies with Jim and Laurie.  Upon discovery of Joan being pregnant again, he offered to set up an appointment for us with a local abortionist: "This over-populated world of ours needs every family to realize that two children is enough for any set of parents to bring into an already over-crowded world." Those were his words that hung in the air long after we had run from his office with lightning speed, seeking a Christian obstetrician, Dr. William Scheihing, to assist us in welcoming into the world our daughter, Lisa on October 17th of that year.

January 22nd.  Do you get the irony?  You do if you've been following our family on Facebook today. On January 22, 2000, exactly thirteen years ago today, I stood at the back of a church building prepared to walk our daughter down the aisle to marry the love of her life, Chris Phillips.  She was about to walk into a life of becoming an adoring wife, an incredible mother, an outstanding Christian woman-creative, intuitive, gregarious, enthusiastic- a blessing to all who know her.  January 22nd.  The very day that marked the passage of Roe vs. Wade.  Our daughter whom the doctor urged us to abort- for the sake of an over-populated world.  That daughter married.  On January 22nd.  Wow!  God is full of ironies, isn't He?  And we who strive to walk according to His precepts are the recipients of the blessings.  Happy Anniversary, Li and Chris.  Love you!   Dad

Some who have known me for years as the fat preacher I have been for most of those years are becoming concerned in recent months that something must be wrong with my health because of what they describe as my "gaunt" appearance.  I understand- when you've been looking at 250 pounds most of these years, 165 pounds appears "sick".  But, let me put your minds at ease.  To my knowledge, I am in as good of health as I've been in during my adult life.  Let me tell you the back story:
In February, 2011, I weighed in for my annual physical at 258 pounds.  My A1c (a measurement for diabetics, which should remain under 7.0) was 9.3.  My cholseterol was high and my tryglicerides were near 600.  Joan and I decided we had to do something to turn this around.  But we had lost/gained SO many times throughout the years (Those who have known me know the truth of that) that we needed to decide up front what could possibly make this time different.  We pledged to each other that we would engage in weekly accountability EVERY week for the remainder of our lives.  For us, that's all that could possibly work.  SO, we signed up (yet again!) for Weight Watchers- the program that we had come to believe is the most balanced approach to healthy weight loss.  We chose the meeting where our long-time friend, Linda Steele was the lead facilitator- she is wonderful!  I weighed in on April 1, 2011, at 236.4 pounds.

As I began to lose, the health benefits began to emerge.  Quickly both my A1c and my triglycerides and cholesterol began showing improvement.  I reached my goal weight on September 1, 2011, and have successfully maintained (for the first time in my adult life) the weight loss since- almost 17 months.  I now weigh 165 pounds, give or take a pound or two.  My A1c has been 5.4 each of my last three six months physicals.  My blood pressure and cholesterol are so dramatically improved that my meds have been drastically lowered.  My triglycerides are now 60 rather than 600.  Joan and I walk a minimum of 4 miles per day (we've logged over 100 miles so far this calendar year) and are both feeling better than we have in a LONG time.
SO, AS FAR AS I KNOW, I AM NOT SICK!  Quite to the contrary, my health appears to be excellent at the moment.  Thank you all for your concern and for loving us enough to be concerned.  I'm publishing this because I feel that if you love us enough to be that concerned, you deserve to know the story.  Praise God with is- He IS good!  By the way, we have not missed even one week of weighing in at WW since we started and our pledge to each other is that such will remain true the rest of our lives.  Thanks for your friendship!!   

I just read my favorite verse in all of Scripture.  It's been my favorite for many years.  Reading it again is a wonderful way to begin a new year:
"Let your character or moral disposition be free from love of money (including greed, avarice, lust, and craving for earthly possessions) and be satisfied with your present (circumstances and with what you have); for He (God) Himself has said, 'I will not in any way fail you nor give you up nor leave you without support.  (I will) not, (I will) not, (I will) not in any degree leave you helpless nor forsake nor let (you) down (relax My hold on you)!  (Assuredly not!)  (Hebrews 13:5, Amplified)

That verse is really tied up in "nots", isn't it?  And every one of them is there in the original language.  Do you get the idea that God is trying (hard) to remind us of an important truth that we too often forget?  No question about it: there are those times in life when it simply does not "feel" like He is anywhere near.  In those times it appears as though He has most certainly deserted us.  Has turned His back.  Has walked away. But in this verse He reminds us that He will NOT leave us- ever.  No matter what.  He will not divorce us, desert us, abandon us.  Most assuredly not.

So, whom do we believe at such times?  The Enemy who whispers in our ear, "He's left you alone, you know- don't you feel His absence?"  OR, will we listen to His promise- No matter how it's feeling at the moment, you can always count on one thing: I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU!!"

I, for one. choose to believe the One whose promises have proven trustworthy over and over again for more than 66 years in my life.  Does that mean that everything has been "hunky dory"?  That every event in my life has been "peachy keen"?  That my rosebushes have had no thorns?  That my life has witnessed no cloudy days?  NO!  Life has not always been a "cakewalk".  But one thing I have learned.  On God's side of the cloudiest days there is sunshine.  And He IS here.  Always here.  Even when it doesn't feel like He is.  Or taste like He is.  Or smell like He is.  Or sound like He is.  Or look like He is.  He IS here!  And the more deeply I believe that truth (and I believe it more deeply every day!) the more my emotions line up with my trust.  He is always close enough to catch my tears in His bottle.  I can't ask for more in life than that.  And I praise Him-with all my heart!!

When I was a young minister, I blushed so badly to say three particular words that I would do almost anything not to have to say them.  Now, at sixty-six, I can say them readily without so much as a hint of a blush.
I thought of those words today as I prepared my lesson for the retirees at Meadowlakes tonight.  We're studying the story where Samuel does exactly what Saul will do several chapters later- offer a sacrifice to God that only the priests of Levi were supposed to offer.  Saul ultimately lost his kingdom over that one.  Samuel does not receive so much as a reprimand- in fact, he receives a resounding victory in battle against the Philistines.  Immediately, the three words rushed to mind.  And this time, I didn't blush.  The three words: I DON'T KNOW!  No, I really do know what the three words are- you just heard them- "I don't know".  As a young minister, I thought to not know was a sin. After all, doesn't Peter encourage us to always have the answer to anyone who might ask us a question?  No, he actually doesn't say that.  Read the remainder of the sentence: "to anyone who asks you concerning the hope that lies within you".  Now, I can do that.  It's the having an answer for everyone's every question that I haven't mastered yet.  But, praise God, that's part of my answer for the hope that lies within me- I am not God and I no longer have to pretend that I am.  He has all the answers.  I don't.  That's ok.  It's better than ok- it's amazing!
I don't know why Samuel got the victory and Saul got the boot.  If I were pressed to guess, I would think that it might have had something to do with the heart of each man. Maybe Samuel really did have God and God's people as his primary focus.  Maybe Saul was thinking about Saul- his reputation, his victory.  But the bottom line is: I don't know (I'm not blushing!)  I can't read hearts.  I can't assume motivations.  That's why I'm not judge.  That's why He is.  I'm glad.  It's such a relief to be able to say those three words without a blush.  Thank you, Jesus!  YOU are THE reason for the hope that lies within me.  All I need to know is YOU!!

Yesterday

Eight grandchildren filled our walls with laughter yesterday.  Amazing!  Three remain with us this morning as their mom and dad are returning today from celebrating their 20th anniversary in San Francisco.  Solomon knew what he was talking about (Duh!), grandchildren really ARE the crowning glory of growing old.  Joan and I feel SO blessed!  Caden's quiet wisdom.  Corban's committed heart.  Cooper's enterprising spirit.  Marlee's exuberant nature.  Riley's kind heart.  Carson's tender strength.  Carter's determined spirit.  Reese's ever-busy productivity.  Each unique.  Each designed by God with meaning and purpose.  Each given hope for their future.  Each nurtured by families who choose to wait upon the Lord.  Each empowered by Eagles' wings which results from such waiting.  None weighed down by worry.  None forced to grow up too early as SO many in our culture are forced to do.  Allowed to be kids.  (Thank you, Jesus!)  Thank you for all those yesterdays of colic-filled nights and messy diapers; for skinned knees and warm hugs; for tears to dry away and laughter to overflow our walls; for newborns whose heads nestled against our chests on those cold winter's nights and for adolescents whose various commitments have warmed our spring and summer days.  And, thank you for the hope of tomorrow: for graduations to attend (the first arriving in 2014); for weddings to celebrate, for great-grandkids to cuddle against our chest on those truly cold nights in the winter of our lives.  Thank you, Lord for yesterday.  And, especially, thank You for the hope of tomorrow!