TIME

SEPTEMBER?  It cannot be September!  Yesterday it was May 31st.  I will admit May was a long month.  I don’t know why.  It seemed to drag on and on, but June, July, and August have flown by.  And … September means it will be cooler and colorful and the air will be crisp. 

Yes, it is September!  I like the idea of cooler and who doesn’t like fall/autumn?  I cannot imagine living where the weather is always the same or where the leaves do not change color.  I enjoy watching the landscape change as crops are harvested.  I love the first snow and the grass turning green in the spring.  Each season is unique.  Each holds a certain expectation. 

I turned to the dictionary:

• Winter – the colder half of the year, a period of inactivity or decay
• Spring – a time or season of growth or development
• Summer – the warmer half of the year, a period of maturing powers
• Fall/Autumn – the season leaves fall from trees -- a period of maturity or incipient decline

I turned to the Bible and the obvious scripture:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:  Ecclesiastes 3:1

Where am I going with this?  As often happens, I am not sure.  When I looked at Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, I tried to think about the rest of the book.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  Like everyone, I know “A time for everything,” but this is not a book I read over and over.  Why would I want to read:  “Meaningless!  Meaningless!” says the Teacher.  “Utterly meaningless!  Everything is meaningless.”  (KJV uses “vanity” which can be described as empty or valueless)

I know this is written as a “how to make your way through life” and “wisdom for the big picture.”  The introduction says this is to warn us that life’s rewards are uncertain and ultimately unsatisfying.  But to say everything is meaningless / valueless…..

I want to shout, “NO IT IS NOT!  LIFE IS NOT MEANINGLESS!”

The author is not absolutely known, but tradition identifies him as Solomon.  Solomon was in a time of reflection and a time when he had stepped back from his faith.  The educated, those with degrees, and those who have studied all the commentaries on Ecclesiastes, will quickly tell me that I am over-simplifying Solomon’s state of mind and not getting the point.  That is probably true.  BUT …

The point I find is that, in the end, all that matters is how I use my time. 

Did I plant the seeds of faith in others and help them uproot evil?

Did I build others up and tear down walls?

Did I keep those things that gave value to my soul and throw away distractions?

Did I know when to speak up and when to be silent?

Did I love others and hate sin?

Did I know when to fight a battle and when to celebrate peace?

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

When I look back, will I see my life as meaningless or will I look back and find I used my time wisely? 

 

 MEMORIES

Memories – Songs describe memories as precious and state that as we travel on life’s pathway we have no idea what the years will hold.  Thomas Hood wrote I Remember, I Remember. This poem tells about the house where he was born and red and white roses and where he used to swing. 

Memories – oh, yes, memories are precious.  But not always!!  I often hear people talk about the “good ole days” or “I wish I could have lived back then.”  Not me!  When I was a kid and visited my grandma or aunts and uncles, I had to use an outhouse.  Outhouses smell, they are very dark, and spiders live there.  I was always glad to get back home to indoor plumbing!  I think when people call them the “good ole days” they are remembering only the good things.  They picture people sitting in a swing and visiting with neighbors and forget that women died in childbirth.  They picture children running barefoot and tree swings and forget that children left school to work in factories or mines.  I hear people say we should go back to “family farms.”  I think they picture a farm with a few pigs, chickens, and a cow or two, but forget that farmers today feed all those people who wouldn’t know how to gather eggs, can green beans, or slaughter a hog.  I think we have selective memories.

Here are a few of mine ---

I remember feeling special on my birthday.  I got to pick the meal and what kind of cake I would like.  Dad, a truck driver, tried to be home on our birthdays, but it did not always happen.  One time, I opened presents at midnight when he got home.  I love birthdays!

I remember watching storms.  I still watch storms.

I remember my sister stopping her tricycle and my bike not stopping.  Do you know how many neighbors panic when they see a kid fly over a tricycle and land on a very hard sidewalk?  I do not remember the landing.  I think fright took over and blocked out everything between mid-air and being surrounded by those concerned neighbors.  Funny thing is I got in trouble and that younger sister of mine, who suddenly stopped her tricycle, did not.  This is the same sister that always had to go to the bathroom when it was time to do the dishes. 

I remember the first time I saw mountains and the ocean and flew in a plane. 

I remember my grandma reading her Bible. 

My best memory ever?  My best memory is yet to come.

Memories are precious and we never know when our heart will store a new one.  Some memories are hard and we try to forget them.  Do not do that.  Our past – our memories – all work together to make us unique.  They write our story.  They teach us how to handle new conflicts and trials.  They guide us toward new memories and new memories keep us from being stuck in the past.

 

VISITORS

At coffee, the question was asked:  How do churches recognize visitors?  Do they give out gift bags?  Do nothing? 

The first reply was, “Speak to them and welcome them to church.”  Well, duh, that was the obvious answer.  We soon realized this question was more complicated than it seemed.  Why?  Glad you asked.

Have you ever visited a church where they asked, “Do we have any visitors this morning?  Hold your hand up so we can see you.”  This simple routine can cause some to be very uncomfortable.

• Some people are shy.  Having never been to this church before, they wanted to sneak in, listen, and go on their way.  Being told to hold up their hand can be traumatic. 

Of course the greeters will recognize visitors.  Maybe not. 

• Some people are members, but have not been to church for so long no one recognizes them.  This can cause embarrassment all around.

Asking for that hand to go up or greeters pointing out visitors is often followed by the ushers bringing around gift bags with information and a sports bottle, proudly featuring the church logo.

The gift bag can also be an issue.  I am sure it took a committee at least one meeting or maybe three or four, to finalize what is in the bag.

• General church information
• Presenting our staff
• A welcome gift
• A map of the church (Note:  This is one I would not have thought of, but makes sense.  A map and a contact to receive a tour of the church would be of great benefit to those that would like to come again.

Some suggestion from around the coffee table:

• Make it personal – At least get their first name and use their name at least once.  If your church has multiple services, a way to phrase your first remark might be, “Hello, I do not remember seeing you at this service.  My name is ___.”  If your church only has one service, you can say, “Hi.  I don’t think we have been introduced.  My name is _____.”  These simple statements will work for visitors or members who rarely attend.

• Do not have the speaker/lay leader/elder ask for a show of hands.  Instead, welcome visitors and point out where they can find information or suggest they speak to an usher for answers to specific questions.  A biggie is to have that information available!!  Make sure there are always information packets or gifts bags where they should be.  You do not want to say, “Oh.  I guess we are out.  I will tell the committee.  Come back next week and I am sure they will be ready.”

• Do not be pushy.  There is a difference between welcoming and being pushy.  Welcoming is friendly and simple.  Pushy is signing them up for a committee, Sunday School, and membership class on their first visit.  Welcoming might see them in the pews the next Sunday.  Pushy will cause them to never darken the doors again. 

• Remember, you might have your favorite pew or chair.  That sweet spot where you can see the minister and stretch out your legs, but a visitor does not know that.  News flash:  It will not kill you to sit in another location.  It is not just a story on Facebook.  In the real world, there have been people visiting and were quickly told, “That is my seat.  Please move.”  I can guarantee you where I would have moved.  Yup.  Right out the door.

• One not discussed, but one that is important to remember:  Visitors are not familiar with the service.  Every church has its own quirks and churches must realize they are not a fit for everyone.  The church where I attend likes to laugh.  In another church, those straight-laced, sour faced people will glare at you for daring to laugh in church.  For them, church is serious.  Help visitors feel comfortable by asking if they have any questions about the service.

• All of these are extremely important to remember for people who might be coming to the church as new believers.  They will feel lost from the moment they walk in the door.  And think how hard that was!  Picture them standing there, not knowing what was going to take place.  Maybe not knowing a single person.  Are they nervous?  As new believers they do not know what to expect or even how to find scriptures.  Think how anxious they are until one person walks over and says, “Hi.  Welcome to our church.  Is there anything I can help you with?”

- - - - - - - - - - -

The question was asked:  How do churches recognize visitors?  We soon realized this question was more complicated than it seemed.  Or is it? 

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Matthew 25:34-41

The way we recognize them, with a gift bag or information pamphlet, might be complicated but the action is easy ---

WE INVITE THEM IN!

 WHO IS AT THE DOOR?

Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council.  He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God.  For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”   John 3:1-2

Pastor Larry commented that he though Nicodemus was trying to “butter up” Jesus to get on his good side.  He then wondered what Nicodemus, who comes at night, would say if Jesus knocked on his door.

“Mary, were you surprised at the answers your Sunday School class gave when you asked them what they would do if Jesus knocked on their door?”

Yes.  They all said they would open the door.  They must all know where their Bible is.

“If I had a dollar for every time someone used the example of trying to find their Bible before they opened the door, I would be rich.

What would you do?”

Well …

“It is not a hard question Mary.  What would you do if Jesus knocked on your door?”

Well …

“Mary, Jesus has seen dust.”

Oh great.  Now everyone will be asking me if I have dusted lately!

“Would you open the door?”

How would I know it was him and not someone trying to scam me?

“Didn’t the class answer that?”

They said my Spirit would know it was Jesus, but, when he was a kid, Duane said Jesus came to their door and looked like a hungry stranger.  Will I know?

“Trust me.  You will know.  But didn’t the Pastor wonder what Nicodemus would say to Jesus?  What would you say?”

I would say, “I am sorry.”

----------------------------------

Note:  You need to know that, when Pastor Larry wondered what Nicodemus would say, I wrote I AM SORRY on my bulletin.  Those words came to me in a rush and are not words I picked to make a point in this blog.  To be honest, after saying that I would most likely start jabbering.

“Mary, you jabber a lot.”

What?  Hey, watch it.  I can shut my computer down.  I can turn you off.

“Go ahead.  I will still be here.  I am always here, so jabber away.”

If you insist.  Thank you for the rain.  And could you please help all the people on the prayer list?  By the way, the sweet corn was delicious this year.  I am going off for a girl’s weekend, so if you could turn down the heat a bit, I would greatly appreciate it.  Oh, and watch over all the kids starting back to school.  And …..

 THE HEAT

It looks so pretty out.  The gladioli are opening – pretty pink and a few white ones, and the grass is green.  There is a rabbit running from a cat and a squirrel going up the tree.  I am sure the birds are singing.  I do not hear the birds –

I do not hear the birds, because I am inside.  In the air conditioning, which is turned a degree lower than my hubby likes.  He swears my comfort zone is anything below 60.  Over that and I am too hot.  Rest assured I am not contributing to climate change.  The ac is not set at 60. 

As a kid, we never knew it was an extreme day.  We never heard of a heat index.  It was hot and life went on.  Until 1998, I could tolerate the 80 and 90 degree days.  I had surgery that year.  A simple gallbladder surgery.  Routine.  Nothing to worry about.  Except I died.  I tell people God wasn’t done with me and the devil didn’t know what to do with me, so here I am.  No, I did not see a light.  Don’t think I got that close.  That routine surgery changed my outlook on life.  It also messed with my body’s thermostat.  It lowered my comfort zone.  Since then I only like the heat if there is water involved – a pool, the beach, or on a ship. 

A changed life meant adjustments from how I had gone about my days.  If I want to work in the flower bed, I have to do it very early before the thermometer starts going up.  Thankfully the heat does not bother Bill and he mows and does 99% of the outside work.  (He also does inside work.  I am very spoiled!)  If I want to go on a girl’s day out, I try to make it spring or fall.  Summer would find me sitting on a bench while they walked around that quaint little town.  And I have done that.  Yup, one little not-so-routine-event and my life changed.

I remember another little not-so-routine-event that also changed my life. 

Yes, I knew the stories.  I had been sent to Sunday School and church for years.  Yes, I knew the Books of the Bible.  We memorized those and a few versus that everyone thinks you must know.  I knew about Jesus.  My grandma told me all about him.  She had such a great faith.  The key part of that sentence is ‘she had.’  What I knew and what I felt was what others told me I should feel.  But it was always their faith.  Their beliefs.  Until one day when it sank in and it became my faith.  Not because someone said it should be.  Not because it was my grandma’s faith.  Just because it became mine – and I changed.

Did I become instantly perfect?  Oh my goodness NO!  When the heat began to bother me, I had to learn what I could do and what would make me absolutely miserable.  It was a learning process.  Still is a learning process.  When I became a Christian – for real not because I should – it became a learning process.  Still is a learning process.

When faith becomes real.  When Jesus becomes personal.  When the Holy Spirit gives wisdom.  When God is everywhere.  Change happens!  Some changes happen quickly.  Some changes happen slowly.  But, beware – you are being warned – when you finally shout, “It is all true!  God is real!  Jesus died for ME!  The Holy Spirit lives in ME!” – you will change.  Your life will change.

Are you ready to change?  God is waiting to give you so much.  Take Him up on his gifts today!!

I AM

I am me, a daughter, sister, Child of God, wife, mother and grandmother.

I became a daughter, sister, and grandmother because of choices others made.  I became a Child of God, wife, and mother due to choices I made.  And the “me” part of who I am is ever changing.

One of my roles in life was chosen for me by others.  What role, you ask.  I am the “sick/hospital” grandma for our daughter’s four boys.

I need to insert a note here.  Except for her first two surgeries, I have been the one waiting as Terri had surgeries.  Jon, Terri’s husband and dad to those four boys, is not — bless his heart — good at being in a hospital.  Note two: Unless I am the one in the hospital, we do not let Bill — bless his heart — go either.  What is it with men?  For us, it works best if I am there and calls and texts keep everyone else informed. 

When did the boys assign me this role of sick/hospital grandma?

Although I had helped when Matthew was sick, I think this really started when Matthew was about two.  He had to stay overnight, in the hospital, and Terri could not stay with him.  She was nursing Matthew’s new brother, Joshua, and only one person was allowed to stay.  Now, common sense would tell you that a baby should not be counted, but a very stern nurse said, “The rule is one.”  I told Terri, “You go home.  I will stay.  He will sleep and you can be here early.”  With that, she pushed the tears back, put on a smile, and said, “Grandma is staying here with you.”  Matthew quit crying before Terri got to the elevator.  I am sure Terri cried all the way home. 

From then on, I was the “sick/hospital” grandma for those boys.  Over the years, I have made trips to Rochester to sit with one or the other of them after the plea, "I don’t feel good.  Can you come over?”  Of course, I went.  I imagine they returned to school and said, “I don’t need a doctor’s slip.  Grandma will tell you how sick I was.”

Then — remember there are four boys — surgeries began.  Tim, boy #4, was the first to have surgery.  He had a cyst removed from his hand.  Yes, I was there, but I doubt if he remembers it.  He was small.

I was still on restrictions, after foot surgery, when I received a call from Joshua, boy #2, “Grandma, I have to have surgery.  I told them you would need a chair and you had to have your feet up.  My room is close to the elevator or we can get a wheel chair.  You will be here, right?”

Of course I was.  I was there when they brought him back to the room and I was there to hold his hand while his mom went home to get a shower. 

“I have to have my tonsils out,” Tim said.  Oh my.  Little Tim.  So cute.  So, so ornery!  “You will be there, right?”

Of course I was.  I was there when he took the hand of the nurse, picked up Monkey George, and walked down the hall.  Yes, walked.  With children anything to help them not be scared is a blessing.  I was there when he came back to recovery and was the lucky one to be standing there when he got sick.  He went home and I helped so his mom could work.  He told us over and over, “I didn’t scream and cry like that other kid.”  He was very proud of that.  Many years later, I was at Riley hospital when he needed surgery.

“Did you check with grandma to make sure that date works for her?” Joshua asked his mother. 

Of course the date worked.  Any date would have worked.  Now a college student, some joint problems needed corrected so off to South Bend we went.  We went again when more surgery was needed.  As they were dismissing him, he asked, “Can you get the car nice and warm for me?”

Of course I went out — in the cold — started the car and had it toasty warm when he and his mother climbed in.  It also seems my car goes to surgeries.  It is easier to get into than their vehicles.

Noah, boy number 3, feeling left out, corrected that emotion by stepping on something in the river and – you guessed it – had to have surgery on his foot.  This time I was not there.  Neither was his mother.  Nor anyone else.  COVID restrictions would not allow anyone in the hospital with him.  We waited at home.  Let me tell you something – not being able to hug Noah before they wheeled him off to surgery and knowing he would have to wake up in a room by himself was not easy.  It seemed like days, not hours, waiting for the phone to ring and to hear the words, “He is out of surgery and doing fine.” 

How could he be fine?  He was alone! 

And just last week, Matthew, who is 25 and no longer little, had surgery.  Was I there?

Of course I was there.  And so was my car.

Sometimes roles that others give us are not roles we want.  This one — the sick/hospital grandma role — is one I am honored to have.  It means those boys trust me.

 FINDING JOY -- AGAIN

There she stood, at the edge of the pool, just as cute as a button.  Her father was in the pool, but had a secure grip on her hand.  She leaned forward to reach the water shooting up.  She grabbed the water and giggled with delight. 

The boy jumped off the diving board and made one very large splash.  He was all smiles, went back to the diving board, and jumped again.

Why do you go to the pool?  To swim?  To exercise?  To watch the kids?  Or do you see the opportunity to jump and get everyone within a ten mile radius wet?  Do you try to catch water in your hand?

Oh to, once again find lost joy.  Sadly, we cross an invisible line and life becomes different.  We no longer see dogs in the clouds or watch ants carry a load thousands of times heavier than their body weight.  We see dead leaves that need raked instead of leaves that crunch when we walk in them.  We fail to see the wonder of blowing on a dandelion and only visualize those seeds producing more of those pesky weeds. 

Not wanting to get our clothes dirty, we put our watermelon on a plate instead of eating it right out of the rind, with juice dripping down our chin.  And we no longer fight over who gets to lick the ice cream paddle.  Long gone is the need to play in the rain or wiggle our toes in the mud.

Why do we do that?  Why do we no longer find joy in the wonders around us?  Yes, we see the sunrise and the sunset, but we miss so much joy because we think we have to act all grown up.  We need to stop that. 

There is a quote by Kalley Heiligenthal,

Joy is not a season; it is a way of life.

So ….

                                          

 HAPPILY EVER AFTER

What an image.  A prince sitting on his white horse.   The princess waiting to be rescued.  Then in the next instant …. There is a commercial.

The commercial ends and the Prince arrives in the nick of time to save the Princess.  They ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.  The End.

And everyone sighs.  Happily ever after.  Isn’t that what we all want?  Except our life is not a movie and happily ever after includes cooking, dirty dishes, laundry, dirty diapers, and a long – very long – list of things that have to get done. 

Is there a happily ever after?  I looked it up and I have never seen such nonsense in my life.  Say I Love You   Hold Hands   Adore One Another   Happily Ever After -- written in every font and color and framed to hang on the wall.  If life was always hearing I Love You, Holding Hands, and Adoring One Another, of course life would be Happily Ever After.  I wanted to shout, “REALLY?”  NEWS FLASH:  Life is not like that!

Then I saw one that made sense. 

Happily ever after is not a fairy tale, it’s a choice.

When it rains and spoils my plans, I make a choice.  I can be aggravated all day or I can grab a good book and read.  Happily ever after.

When I am afraid, I make a choice.  I can be afraid or I can turn my fear over to God.  Happily ever after.

When someone says something against me, I make a choice.  I can retaliate or I can forgive them.  Happily ever after.

My happily ever after also depends on other people’s choices.  Family and friends choose to encourage me, share my worries, and adore me even when I am grumpy.  They are choosing to help make my life happily ever after. 

Can I have a happily ever after life?  Yes.  My happily ever after life is today.  If I choose to make each day the very best it can be by trusting God with my worry and my fear, by choosing to not allow others to rob my day of joy, by leaving the past in yesterday, and by making wise choices, my life will be happily ever after.  Will this always be easy?  Oh my goodness, NO, but I have already made the most important choice.

Happily ever after is not a fairy tale, it’s a choice.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God; trust also in me.  In my Father’s house are many rooms.  If it were not so, I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going.”  John 14:1-4

I know the way.  I know there is a place waiting for me.  I trust Jesus.  I trust God.  Happily ever after?  YES!!!

 

 OH NO

We are having some landscaping cleaned up and mulch put down.  They are working away.  Trimming some trees and shrubs.  Pulling weeds that were hiding in the bushes.  I am doing my morning time of checking email and catching up on the news, when OH NO – NO INTERNET!! 

What?  It is not storming!  I paid the bill.  Then I looked outside.  They had cut the cable when they edged for putting down mulch.  Now what? 

No Facebook

No email

No finger talking with the kids

No google

What am I to do?  Those emails need read.  There might be something important happening and I will not know.  There might be …

“Mary, you seem to be in a bit of a dither.”

Dither.  God uses the word “dither?  Well doesn’t that beat all?  Dither.

“Are you done?  Was it too big of a word for you?  Goodness child, what is wrong?”

They cut my internet cable!  What am I to do? 

“Hummmmm.  Let me think a minute.”

Are you done thinking?  It has been way more than a minute.

“I use a different watch than you do.  What exactly could you do without the internet?  How about reading a book?  I would suggest the Bible.  Or praying.  Or writing a letter.  You could clean that junk drawer.  Or “

That’s the best you got?  Clean my junk drawer.  I figured you would come up with something – like – really grand.  A super, fantastic, colossal idea. 

“That drawer does need cleaned.  I have an idea.  How about we hang out?  Tell me what you have been doing…”

You already know what I have been doing!

“Yes, but I like to hear you talk.”

Now that is something I do not hear often.  Most people think I talk too much.  Do you have the time?  You have a whole world of people ….

“Mary.  I have time.”

=   =   =   =   =   =   =   =

Last week I pointed out that God would never forget my name.  And that God would never forget your name either.

This week I want you to know God always has time for you.  Yes, I have written on this before and I will keep at it until you admit I am right and you spend one on one time with God.  Sometimes, we wait to hear something super, fantastic, and colossal.  The trouble is that, while we wait for something super, fantastic, and colossal, we miss out on life. 

We want to hear a colossal sermon that rumbles the church, but we also need to hear the soft voice of the scriptures that gives us hope and peace and strength.  We will miss that if we only want colossal.

We want to see a fantastic sunrise.  One that takes our breath away, but we also need to give thanks for the gentle rain and the cool breeze.  We will miss that if we only want fantastic.

We want to hear super prayers that will end up being quoted for centuries, but God wants to hear the prayers from your heart.  Prayers from your joy.  God just wants to hear you.

God knows your name.  He wants to know your voice also.  Take time to talk to him.  Tell him you are in a dither.  He will laugh and say, “You have been talking to Mary.  Let’s talk.  I have time and I use a different watch than you do, so take all the time you need.”  

 WHAT’S THEIR NAME?

I looked and searched.  I checked lists.  I found many names.  Girls are named Olivia, Lillian, London, and Sara.  Aspen seemed to be a popular girl’s name.  Why would you name that sweet baby girl after a tree?  Boys are named Johnny, Mateo, Cooper, and Jesse. 

Galaxy, Jinx, and Stormie were on a list of unique names.  Can you imagine going through life with those names?

“Galaxy -- are you from far, far away?”

“Jinx!!  Don’t stand by me.  I don’t want bad luck.”

“Hey Stormie. If you marry the Black Night, you will be introduced as Black and Stormie Night.”

I started looking for names, because, lately, a few names keep popping up and I wanted to see if they made the top 100 list.  What are the names?

I Don’t Know

I Don’t Remember

I Will Think Of It Later

and my favorite

I Thought You Knew Their Name

Now you might think this is one of those “you are getting older” things, but remembering names seems to be a challenge for all ages.  There are many versions of the name game.

• I know the first name.  Do you remember the last name?
• They went to my high school, one year behind me, their brother was …..
• Darn.  I should know them!
• I will ask (insert name of a friend).  I am sure they will remember their names.

and the one we all try to pull off –

• Of course I remember you.  It has been a long time, but how could I ever forget?  What have you been up to?  (This stalling strategy is used while your mind processes your childhood, school years, college friends, and people you met on your one trip to Alaska.)

WHAT’S MY NAME

People I knew a long time ago will forget my name.  People I know now may forget my name.  Sadly, someday, I might forget my name.  But no matter what, there is one who always knows my name.  One who knows me.  From the very beginning He knew me.  He made me.  He …

If you read this blog, you will know what is coming.  Psalms 139 – my favorite scripture.

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.

He knows me!  He will never forget my name.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

He created me.  He will never forget my name.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

He made me wonderful!  He will never forget my name.

God will never forget my name.  And God will never forget your name either.

WHAT IS A PASTOR

I rarely read the blog written by our pastor until after I have written mine and the pastor does not see mine until it is posted.  We do not want people to think we collaborated.  This week I broke with tradition (Gasp! Gasp!) and read Pastor Larry’s blog.

Please read FROM THE PASTOR’S DESK at https://larry-fromthepastorsdesk.blogspot.com/

From his blog:  “However, God was in control.  I learned that God was calling me to be a pastor.  As a pastor, I would have to preach, but I was a pastor.  Just like that, I went from someone who had no use for the ministry to someone who was sold out to the ministry.”

He is Pastor Larry.  From the first time I met him, it was PASTOR.  His blog got me to thinking and, he will tell you, he gets very nervous when I start thinking.  After five years, he is still trying to figure out how I think.  (Note to Pastor Larry:  Give up.  You will never figure me out.)

Exactly what is a Pastor?  Isn’t that the same as a Preacher?  Or a Minister?  Or a Reverend?  The dictionary provided a few clues.

Preacher:  a person who delivers a sermon publicly; one whose function is to preach sermons.  Well, he does deliver a sermon publicly, but that is not his main function.

Minister:  one officiating or assisting the officiant in church worship; a clergyman or clergywoman.  Well, he does officiate during the worship service.  He oversees communion, weddings, baptisms, and funerals, but those are occasional and do not consume all of his time.

Reverend:  of or relating to the clergy.  Reverend is an official title earned from years of study.  I am sure many letters come addressed to Reverend Larry Wade, but he still prefers Pastor.

Preacher, Minister, and Reverend are all used to describe persons in the clergy, but, honestly, they do not fit Pastor Larry.  So why does “Pastor” suit him? 

Pastor:  (noun) a spiritual overseer, especially a clergyman serving a local church or parish and Pastoral:  (adjective) of or relating to spiritual care or guidance especially of a congregation.

And there it is.  As plain as day.  He likes the term Pastor because he serves at a local church and likes to tell us what to do.

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A pastor has knowledge and understanding.

Then I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will lead you with knowledge and understanding.  Jeremiah 3:15

A pastor equips the body of Christ to service.

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.   Ephesians 4:11-13

A pastor is an example and will be rewarded.

Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, watching over them – not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.  And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.  1 Peter 5:2-4

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I do believe his Aunt Evie heard Acts 1:7-8 this way:  “It is not for you to know the time or date the Father will set his authority on Larry.  But he will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on him; and he will be my witness in Tennessee, Florida, Ohio and Indiana and to the ends of the earth.”

I would like to use 2 Corinthians 4:5 this way:

Pastor Larry, you preach not for yourself, but for Jesus Christ as Lord, and you are a servant for Jesus’ sake.

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Pastor Larry,

May the love, peace, and strength of Jesus Christ surround you as you pastor to the family of a lifelong friend.  May memories surround your grief and bring you comfort.

Mary

THE WHOLE BOOK

Have you ever testified in court?  You have to raise your hand and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  You no longer have to say, “So help me God.” 

Our son-in-law sent a scripture, Hebrews 6:4-6, and said it was confusing and he had never noticed this verse before.  I told him I would look it up.  I also told him I had the same thing happen to me on a verse about Noah. 

How could I have missed it?  All the times I had read about Noah.  All the times I had heard about Noah.  And yet, someone posted on Facebook that Noah did not shut the door to the ark.  What?  If not Noah, then who?

Genesis 7:16 The animals going in were male and female of every living thing, as God had commanded Noah.  Then the LORD shut him in.

Now doesn’t that beat all?  I always pictured Noah and family pulling and struggling to get that door shut and here the LORD did it.  Bet the LORD didn’t struggle!  Bet the door started up and firmly shut.  Bet Noah was glad!

How could I have missed this?  Sometimes, parts of the Bible are so familiar we rush through them.  We do not ponder them.  And we miss the image of the LORD tucking Noah, his family, and the animals into the ark as if He was tucking his children into bed.

But why do things in the Bible confuse us?

Let’s be honest.  The Bible can be very.. very confusing.  Sometimes it does not make sense.  Sometimes no matter how often we read a passage, we do not understand it.  We cannot figure it out.  I did look into the verses our son-in-law referenced and sent him a few notes.  Then I told him to read the verses before and after. 

Hebrews 6:4-6 is scary.  It sounds like it is impossible for those once enlightened and fallen away to be brought back to repentance.  They are compared to worthless land which only produces thorns and thistles, they are in danger of being cursed, and they will be burned.  Oh my.  Oh my.  No hope.  No hope.  This is very scary because I have “been enlightened” and I still sin.  Am I in danger of being cursed?  Am I nothing more than thistles and thorns?

(Pretend you are listening to a TV infomercial.)  BUT WAIT!  The next verses offer hope.  Verse 9 - 12 Even though we speak like this, dear friends, we are convinced of better things in your case – the things that have to do with salvation.  God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.  We want each of you to show this same diligence to the very end, so that what you hope for may be fully realized.  We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised.

The next verses get even better.  Read them when you have time.

When the scripture is confusing or scary or does not make sense, read all the verses involved.  You might have to read a whole chapter or two or even a whole Book to understand one single verse.  You might even have to read it twice.  Or three times.  You also have an excellent resource called the Minister/Pastor/Preacher.  Do not be afraid to ask questions.

I closed my note to my favorite son-in-law this way:

Don’t ya love the Bible?  It is all of life in one place:  mystery, romance, questions, answers, great grief, great joy, and salvation.  And it takes a lifetime to understand it.

Keep reading.  Keep discovering.  Keep asking questions.  Keep finding answers.

 GETTING OLDER

No, it is not my birthday so you do not have to go shopping.  Getting older – are you ready? – is a daily process.  When the clock strikes midnight, I am a day older.  When the clock strikes midnight tonight, I will be 27,245 days old. 

Oh my.  That is a really big number.  There are probably that many quotes on getting older.

• “The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes.”  Frank Lloyd Wright
• “Do not grow old, no matter how long you live.  Never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.”  Albert Einstein
• “People ask me what I’d most appreciate getting for my eighty-seventh birthday.  I tell them, a paternity suit.”  George Burns
• “I suppose real old age begins when one looks backward rather than forward.”  Mary Sarton
• “I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a lot more as they get older, and then it dawned on me – they’re cramming for their final exam.”  George Carlin

I like – really like -- this one.  Maggie Kuhn stated, “Old age is an excellent time for outrage.  My goal is to say or do at least one outrageous thing every week.”

Over and over we hear:  Old age is no place for sissies.

The other day, while getting my hair cut, I heard a new one and it made me look at getting older in a whole new way.  Apparently, this was first recorded on the masthead of the Gettysburg Times, in 1952. 

DO NOT REGRET GROWING OLDER.

IT IS A PRIVILEGE DENIED TO MANY.

Getting old – a privilege?  Feet that do not want to work right – a privilege?  That weird old age skin – a privilege?  Less hair – a privilege?  Hearing loss, arthritis, squeaky joints, thicker glasses, and a whole list of other “older” conditions – a privilege? 

GROWING OLDER A PRIVILEGE?  YES!  YES!  YES!

When the clock strikes midnight, I am a day older.  I AM A DAY OLDER!  I have another chance to

• see a sunrise and a sunset,
• tell my family I love them,
• receive hugs from my grandkids,
• enjoy lunch with a friend and drink one more glass of wine,
• read a book, watch a good movie, and work another puzzle,
• sip that cup of coffee while watching the waves come onto shore,
• travel and marvel at god’s creations – especially buffalos,
• do or say something outrageous,
• be curious and learn,

and,

• allow my faith to grow.

I absolutely understand that getting older does not always seem to be a privilege.  Illness can take away physical abilities and dementia can steal a mind.  BUT, for as long as I can, I now choose to consider growing older a privilege which many are denied.  I choose to look at each day as an opportunity.  I choose to be outrageous and bold.  I choose to love and celebrate each gift God provides from the stroke of one midnight to the next midnight to the next midnight.

 

 

ONE FRIDAY NIGHT

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I had Friday and Monday off work!  A long weekend and the weather report was HOT.  And more HOT.  I do not do HOT.  I can do warm and sorta toasty, but hot – nope.  Hot means I melt. 

That Friday morning even included getting my hair done.  A real treat.  There were a few last minute errands, but I had been looking forward to this long weekend.  Everything had been checked off my list and I could relax.  I could breathe.  But then suddenly the clock seemed to speed up and I did not want to be late.

Time became a blur.  Mom and dad were getting dressed.  My younger sister was ready.  My older sister was on her way.  And the next thing I knew, I was standing at the back of the church.

It was a small church and it looked soft and warm, with the candles lit.  There were only a few people there.  The minister was smiling and he held an open Bible. 

My dad held my arm and said, “If you want to change your mind, we can leave.”  I wanted to shout, but, instead, quietly told him, “No!  I am not changing my mind.”

There stood Bill and Jim, the Best Man  Jean, my Matron of Honor, was now standing up front.  It was time.

On a Friday night, in a small church, 56 years ago, Bill took my hands.  I looked in his eyes, and said, “I do.”

I would do it over again.  This man, from our first date, had my heart and taught me how to say, “I love you.”  He has worked to provide for our family.  He quickly learned wives can be difficult and hard to understand.  He learned that babies can be loud and fussy.  And they felt so good when they slept with their head on his shoulder.  He realized children grew up way too fast and that grandchildren could be spoiled and sent home.  He supported me as I became an entirely different person than he married and is still surprised with the unique way my mind works.  He has been my chauffer across 49 states and tells me to be careful when I go off without him.  He was my nurse after surgeries and he worries about me.  He prays for me daily.

I would do it over again.

Happy Anniversary Bill!!