A Troubling Account

I was reading an account of the hanging of Saddam Hussein today from the local newspaper. In the article, it was said that one of the three executioners told Saddam just before he was hanged, “God damn you.” Saddam reportedly looked at the hooded man and said, “God damn you,” back to him.
I don’t know if I’ll come to any kind of conclusion in this blog about this exchange. I just have kind of a rambling of thoughts that will probably come out in some kind of jumbled fashion.
For one who within the next five minutes would find out with certainty if there is life beyond the grave, and if so whether or not Jehovah God is indeed God of the universe, and if so, whether or not Jesus is indeed the Christ and Messiah, this exchange is indeed troubling to me.
If there is no life beyond the grave, no Jehovah, no Jesus Christ the Eternal Son, then Saddam had nothing to worry about and his executioner and he both said something that had no meaning.
If, however, there IS life beyond the grave, and if there IS a god named Jehovah, then both executioner and the executed have said something that may have profound and lasting effects upon each of them. I shudder to think of entering into the presence of Jehovah having just condemned a man to damnation. I also shudder to think of entering into the presence of Jehovah having just been condemned in such a manner.

Just Stuff

We're here at theCentral Kansas in-laws this afternoon. We had a pleasant drive up here and many of the relations were here for hamburgers, potato salad, beans, deviled eggs, angel food cake, etc. A pretty good spread, huh.
The family is growing...in numbers, that is. We continue to add a grandchild here, a great grand-child there, an in-law over there. It's good to see families grow and expand, but it becomes somewhat difficult to keep track of them all, especially if they're only seen once or so a year.
We had friends stop in Wichita earlier today and toured the home, then bought us lunch. We were happy to see them and hope that we'll have more time with them sometime soon.
I told them that my wife and I were "acutely aware" of the thoughts and prayers given on our behalf as we tend to our work at the children's home. I told them that I didn't know how we knew that...we just knew it somehow. We take great comfort in knowing that people are praying for us and we hope that our prayers for them and for others "avail much" as the Good Book says.'
Another 30 hours or so and it will be the new year. I'm not sure what that means, but this may be the last post for 2006. I dunno. Anyway, thanks for seeing us through this year and we look forward to what comes ahead, knowing that the Creator Himself is guiding and directing our steps.

Good News

Today I heard from the grandmother of one of the girls who had gone home for the holidays. She’s still home and I called wanting to know if the new arrival (Mom was expecting a baby) had come yet.
Yes, the baby came on the 24th and everything was fine, except Grandma had broken her leg and wasn’t able to care for the family as she intended to do. She had to keep her leg elevated except for a few minutes at a time.
Grandma was also very gushing in her praise of Mary (not her real name) and how she has pitched in and helped during this time of stress, holiday, and change. She wants to keep her as long as possible in order to help out as much as possible around the house.
We were pleased to hear that. Sometimes it seems like we don’t see many changes in the lives of the girls we keep here, and it takes something like this to bring us back to reality and the notion that God is using us to work His will here.
The days plod on and the troubles and problems just keep coming. We continue to work with them, God working within us to demonstrate just a little of His love and care for His creation. With this kind of report, we have the strength and energy to plod on until some day there will be no more plodding…no more need for what we do. Even so come quickly, Lord Jesus.

The 58th Christmas

Today is Christmas Eve, 2006. Tomorrow will mark the 58th Christmas that I’ve witnessed (although I must say that I certainly can’t remember them all). A lot has changed since the 1949 Christmas in my hometown. Of course I don’t recall it since I was only two months old. I would imagine, however, that my older brothers had a good time, got some presents, and we probably went to some relatives for Christmas dinner.
Our son and his family were here for a couple of days. Our granddaughter is cute as ever (of course they are!!) and we are grateful for that family and pleased that our daughter in law chose to be part of our family (and we theirs). We had my brother and sister over last night for cards and games. We opened gifts this evening as well.
We will host my brother and sis tomorrow for lunch (ham, scalloped potatoes, green bean casserole, etc) and an afternoon of visiting and good times. Then clean up and a couple of days with one or two of the girls before our time is ended and we get a week off.
All in all, a traditional, ordinary holiday for us. But there’s something special about the traditional and ordinary that makes it anything but that. We cherish and relish these times, possibly because they tend to jolt us back, after dealing daily with a crazy and wild world, to what is truly important in our lives…family, relationships, love, and acceptance.
I’m not a doom and gloom prophet. There is good in this world, and I know that our Creator said it was good when He finished His work. But this is also a fallen creation groaning and longing for release from bondage. We need this jolt…this shot…this time of tradition and custom…to bring us some sanity, sense, and purpose as we go into yet another new year seemingly filled with disarray, confusion, insanity, grief, and hate.
And as we in Christendom ponder the miracle of the life and purpose of a baby born in a barn some two thousand years ago in the Bethlehem area of what is now the West Bank, we recall the promise of perfect peace and long for its hastening.

Getting Along

Well, it’s Saturday. It’s the eve of Christmas Eve. All of our girls have gone home for at least the weekend and we’re here with our son and his family from Northeastern Kansas. They’ll be here a day or two, then will go to see the other side of their family out in Western Kansas.
The weather is crisp, but clear. Amy Grant is playing on the DVD (her Tennessee Christmas album…her best) and we’re waiting on friends from the Kansas City area to stop by for awhile to see the campus and go to lunch.
We had “Bean and Bean” at my brother’s place last evening. That’s a tradition where they have some kind of beans as a main dish for a meal, then watch several of the “Mr. Bean” videos, including “Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean”. If you don’t know about Mr. Bean, I won’t clutter my blog with an explanation; just Google him or go to the Wikipedia site http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Bean .
We’ll host the family on Monday. We’ll have ham, scalloped potatoes, and the trimmings. It’ll be another time of great fun and contentment. Our family is blessed to not have the squabbles, fights, and tensions that sometimes can invade. Some reasons for that?

Our parents and relatives were good examples.
We don’t use alcohol
We were taught as youngsters to get along (or else).
We don’t use alcohol.
We have similar values.
We love each other.
We respect each other’s opinions.
We don’t use alcohol.
We accept each other for who and what they are.

We’re having fun this time of year. What better thing to do than to spend time with a brand new granddaughter and family. I hope, trust, and pray that your holiday goes well.

The Gap

I don’t know if I do my best thinking this time of day or not (6:05am), but I certainly feel more creativity and willingness to sit down at the keyboard right now to have a say at something. I guess there may be something to that old adage, “Early to bed and early to rise, etc. etc.”
I’ve been asked to teach a Joshua survey to the 30’s class at church beginning in January. This might be quite an experience for them as well as for me. First, I don’t know many of the 30’s folks at the church. Second, I haven’t taught Joshua in a long while. And third, there is becoming an obvious gender gap between me and those a generation or so younger than I am.
Do you notice it too? Those of you who are, say, 40 or older…do you notice the gap widening? Language, dress, deportment (look that one up in your Funk & Wagnalls), and culture all seem to be part of this ever-widening gap between “us” and “them”. And that can be a little intimidating at times for both sides.
As one who remembers the “Big John and Sparky” radio show on Saturday mornings on the old Zenith (which I still have) and the advent of television into our neighborhood…one who has seen parts of seven decades and remembers when the polio vaccine first came out, it’s work now to relate at all to those who don’t know life without the computer, vacuum tubes, or the TV remote.
This should be an interesting time for all of us.

Twinges and Tingles

It’s Monday morning. A week before Christmas Day. The weekend went well, but all the time, I had a kind of an uneasy feeling. I’m not sure what it was, and even now have a feeling that something just isn’t quite the way it should be. But there’s nothing concrete I can pin down and there’s nothing even floating “out there” that I can see. So I guess I’ll have to chalk this one up to parental intuition that needs to be sent to the shop for a re-calibration.
Those of you who are parents know what I’m talking about. Your parental antennae begin to twinge just a bit, and if it continues, there’s kind of a tingle that’s just always there, keeping you on the alert. As you continue down the parenting path, you learn to hone the skills of listening to and interpreting the signs and signals. When they say that Mom has eyes in the back of her head, they are more right than not.
The work we do is similar to that of parents in everyday life. The problem here is that we invite girls into our home that are already confused and on the wrong path, and we have very little time to adjust our antennae to their signals. They need help now, and we don’t have the luxury of taking our time to get to know them or having them in our home for several years while we learn all about them.
We also have more than one or two. We’re expecting a sixth right after Christmas Day this year and have room for yet a seventh. So I guess I can understand how occasionally the trouble receptors need to be cleaned and fine-tuned.
And you stay tuned as well. There may yet come something that vindicates the tingling going on even as I write this at 6am and all the girls are yet in bed (with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads). I wonder if any of them has a clue what a sugar plum is.

Home for Christmas

I was walking the compound last night as I usually do, checking doors and making sure things were OK when my mind wandered to a part of the old song “Home for Christmas”…the part that says, “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.” I didn’t get very far with that when I stopped in my tracks and thought about why I might be singing that part and what thoughts were coming into my head because I was singing it.
My thoughts didn’t go back to my childhood. Yes, we had Christmas when I was small, and we had the tree, lights, gifts, and all of that. Rather, my thoughts went to times when we had our own kids at home; when the gifts were transformers, baseball gloves, and toy products for boys out of the 1980’s.
Then I thought about where “home” actually was this year. If I would be “home” for Christmas this year, where is that? Is it here in Wichita? Is it where we lived with our young family for 16 years as they grew up? Topeka? Western Kansas? Central Kansas?
My mind would have none of those places. Home, it turns out, was the place that Jesus told about when He said, “I go and prepare a place for you.” Home was someplace I’ve never been before, but have a taste of what it is like right here and now. They say home is where the heart is. I wonder if that can be true more than anyone can know.

Unprofitable Servants

Last night we went to Wednesday services. On the way into the building, I had two people stop me in the hall and thank me for my remarks the previous Sunday. I was asked to have a meditation or remarks ready to present at the communion service, which we do every Sunday in our church. I was surprised that they stopped me and told me of their appreciation. However, I was also surprised that several last Sunday stopped following services and told me the same thing.
I am no stranger to public speaking. It is something I actually enjoy. It was, however, my first attempt at it at this church, and that could be partly the reason why some visited with me. However, one of the elders (church leaders) stopped me Wednesday for the second time and explained why he was so grateful.
My meditation centered on Mary and her willingness to be God’s servant. She said (and I paraphrase here) “I am the Lord’s servant. Be it unto me according to your will.” I talked about how I was reluctant to do this meditation because I had grown complacent and lazy and was willing to let others do all the work in the church for me. I then said that I thought the better of that attitude, and that if Mary could do what she did, and if Jesus could do what He did in offering Himself as a propitiation (look it up, folks) in my place, surely I could do this little thing.
The elder said that there are many people in the church who have the same attitude as I. They are content to allow someone else to do all of the work. They take but don’t give. He said my remarks really hit home and he appreciated my effort and candor.
How selfish we have become, thinking that we somehow deserve special attention because we do this or that, or because we deal with this or that, or whatever. How selfish we are thinking that others can just wait on us…that we’ve put in our time and deserve to rest and relax while the rest of the world waits on us. How selfish of us to believe somehow that we’re special and that we deserve some kind of special treatment. We are, after all (and I paraphrase again) “just unprofitable servants doing what is required of us.”

Candles

It’s nice to get feedback on what’s written here. I appreciate it when you click on my email address to tell me what you thought of the words I put together.
I’m continuing a little from the last entry where I said that God calls each of us into service in some way. We may not have a high profile job or a name that is known the world over. We may not be endowed with the gifts of wealth or even health. But we all were put here for, perhaps, “such a time as this.”
One reason that I appreciate your comments is that it brings perspective into my service to the Master. You see, when you comment, I am reminded of the service you perform and of your lot in life. I realize yet again that I am not alone.
It’s good for me to remind myself that others, just as I, struggle to pay bills, deal with kids, learn a new job, cope with sometimes frail health, refresh a relationship, tackle employee/employer issues, and a host of other stressors that appear in the lives of every one of us from time to time.
In a real way, we’re all in this together, being lights and salt and leaven in a place that desperately needs what God has to offer by means of our poor, weak efforts. It’s nice to be able to look over to the next hill (whether that hill be Oakley, Kansas City, South Carolina, Nigeria, Michigan, Topeka, or wherever) and see another candle burning there in the darkness, lighting up a small portion of the place we call “this life”.
Don’t let your candle go out.

Morning Routine

It’s been a few days, I know. It’s a little after 6am on a Monday morning and I’ve just completed most of the routine things we do on a school day. Medications are in the cups waiting for the girls, I’ve cleaned up the few dishes left from last night, and the coffee is on. I’ve brought a new box of cereal up from the basement pantry and have juice, cereal, and granola bars out for breakfast. One of the girls (I don’t know which one…I haven’t looked yet) just came out to eat.
I haven’t been outside yet to pick up the Eagle. But I have my coffee in place on the desk right beside the monitor. Pat is stirring, and will be out soon to interact with the girls a little more than I normally would this time of day.
God calls each of us to service. He expects us to use the talents and abilities that are within us to His glory. He will be glorified for the sake of His Name. I don’t know what God has in mind for Pat and me. All I know is that somehow we ended up here, in Wichita, at this place. We are not high-profile ministers in a large church down south. We are not well known business people or politicians. We certainly aren’t entertainers whose names are household words.
But I believe we are serving and are glorifying the Name of God by being here in this place, dispensing medications, opening cereal boxes, and interacting with teenage girls. As a paraphrase of Esther 4:14 might read, “Who knows but that you’ve been placed on this earth and in this place for such a time as this.”

I'm Ready

My wife has gone to be with her family for a few days while they deal with her Dad’s recent illness. She’s been gone overnight and for several days, now. When she’s gone, there are some things that are good and some things that are not so good about the situation.
I don’t sleep as well when she’s not here at night. I don’t know. For some reason, it just isn’t the same. I never thought that it would come to this, but after 32 plus years, one just gets used to having someone else in the bed with them.
The house is quieter. My wife is not a loud person. More often than not, she’s in her chair doing some kind of needle work or reading. But for some reason, there’s a quietness about the house that isn’t here when someone else is here, even though that person isn’t making any noticeable sounds.
On the more positive side, I do some things sometimes that I wouldn’t do when she’s here. I usually eat only two meals a day. That seems to be more normal for me. And I tend to eat things I wouldn’t eat if she was here. I eat more fish, more cereal, and will sometimes fix things that I know she doesn’t like (salmon cakes).
I don’t have to tell anyone where I’m going. I can just get into the pickup and go. And I don’t have to be back at a certain time knowing that someone will worry if I’m not back on time. I can take off on a side trip or do something else without checking in.
I can also do things like eat lunch at the counter of the café down the street, like I did today. The Riverside Café in Wichita is an old place that has a juke box, juke box controllers in the booths, a counter, and a menu that is written on a white board along with the daily lunch specials. I thoroughly enjoyed sauntering up to the counter this morning, ordering chicken strips with hash browns and green beans.
Does the positive outweigh the negative? Hardly. I’m ready for her to come back home.

Tough Decisions

It’s been a slow weekend for me, but for my wife, it’s been anything but that. Her dad had a mild stroke toward the end of last week, and she’s been going up into central Kansas where they live to help out with that. She went there again this morning and intends to spend a couple of days there this time.
He will be getting out of the hospital in a day or so, if everything goes well, and will need at least some temporary home care. He’s an independent sort of a man, wounded veteran of Iwo Jima, and won’t want anyone around to help. And he has his right mind and will be making the final decisions regardless of what his girls want for him.
The boys are here as well, and may be able to visit with him about having someone in to stay, but even that conversation, I suspect, will be a rather delicate time for them. Hopefully they can reach a compromise that all are happy with and will still provide the services that he will need these next several days and weeks.
It’s always tough when our loved ones grow older and begin to need care. My father in law is in his upper 80’s and has lived on his own for about 10 years since his wife died. He’s done well. His home is well-kept and he cares for himself, does his laundry, fixes his meals, etc. So this will be a change for him. We’ll see how this goes.

Humility

I don’t know what you think of Amy Grant. Some of you like her music and her songs. Others of you don’t care for that kind of music. And some of you may be upset yet (it’s time to get over it, folks) at her cross over into popular music or her divorce from Gary Chapman and remarriage to Vince Gill. (Just remember, you have sinned, too. Your sins are every bit as bad and will keep you out of a covenant relationship with God just as much as you believe Ms. Grant’s sins will do to her. And God is willing to forgive you just as much as you are willing to forgive others their trespasses.)
Regardless of what you may think, Ms. Grant has not only survived, but has flourished in the past 25 years in the music industry. Many who know her attribute her longevity and success to her modesty and humility, attributes that seem to be missing from many who share the success that she has enjoyed.
When she was inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame, she said this about one of her backup singers, “Johnna McElroy really took my five loaves and two fish of a voice and helped me to as much as I could with it.”
That one statement tells volumes about the person Ms. Grant truly is. She’s the genuine article. She’s the real thing. Like her or not, she has her feet firmly on the ground, it seems, and understands that she’s just someone who was incredibly, incredibly blessed n life.