Little Big Foot: Home Matters

An unexpected Texas snowfall had deposited about an inch of white on the hospital's front law. The sky was grey and scattered snowflakes drifted lazily down. As her brother, Phil, pulled into a parking spot near the entry, Dee Anna, in the back seat, glanced up at her mother, seated on the passenger side of the car, head back against the seat and eyes closed.

"Mom," Phil said, "we're here."

"I know. Do you think I'm sleeping? As if I could sleep!"

"Just letting you know."

Inside, Christmas carols played in the entryway, an odd reminder for all of them that the season was proceeding more or less without them. The hospital gift shop, just to the right of the entrance, was filled with Christmas items and festooned with white lights. A pink-clad volunteer looked up and waved as they went by. "Hello, Bernice! I hear Bud's doing well. Do y'all need anything?" Phil and Dee Anna kept walking as their mother stopped for a moment of conversation with the white-haired volunteer.

"She's edgy today," said Phil. Dee Anna nodded, saying nothing.

Entering their father's room, they found Dr. Martin reviewing their father's chart. Bernice came in a few moments later, lips compressed. Dee Anna kissed her father's forehead and then stood at the window, absently watching the snow flakes drift past.

She smiled, remembering Madeline's voice on her cell phone earlier. Little Big Foot was "snow bound," she'd crowed with excitement, and they had already received more than a foot of snow in the morning hours. More snow was in the forecast. School was closed, and she was hoping to go out to make a snow fort with her friend, Dana, and some other children. Charlie the dog was having a wonderful time being petted and played with over at the Halverson household. The Advent wreath had arrived and looked beautiful. The Whitewaters had company and they'd all come to church. One of the boys was cute. Sunday's preacher was kinda boring. She was okay and was having fun at Dana's house, she had said, but hoping her mom could come home soon so they could do some Christmas shopping. Dee Anna had finally been able to interject a question or two, but it seemed Madeline was doing fine without her.

Now, gazing out at the light snowfall and thinking of home, she suddenly realized, with momentary sadness, that Madeline had not asked about her grandfather, except to wonder how long it would be before Dee Anna took a flight back to Wisconsin. Well, it wasn't like Madeline really knew her grandparents, and that hadn't really been such a bad thing. Maybe now it could change. Could her family's uncharacteristically gentle communication possibly last? That question was chased away by the awareness that she had just thought of Little Big Foot as home. She turned, hearing Dr. Martin clear his throat and begin to speak.

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

One day before, Tommy and Brenda Halverson had taken an evening walk into the woods around their little house. It was cold and beginning to get late, the flat grey sky getting darker. The snow that would so delight Madeline the next morning had already begun to fall, so they went about their Christmas tree selection quickly. Making their way around a large woodpile at the side of their home, they half walked, half slid down a short embankment and entered the woods, holding hands and laughing as they heard one of the kids yelling from the back door, "Get a really, really, really big one, Dad!"

Tommy had cut down a medium sized tree with a small hatchet he had brought along for that purpose. They had shaken the snow from the branches, but the tree was covered, before the made it up the bank, around the house and up the steps to their back door. "It's really startin' to come down now," Brenda had said, and Tommy had grinned and answered, "That's the way to cut down a tree, ya know? In the snow, just like a Christmas card!" Brenda yelled and the kids laughed at he shook the tree's branches, spraying them with wet snow.

The next morning Tommy had secured the tree into its stand before leaving for the paper mill. Now he was back, stomping his feet as he shook the snow from his blaze orange knitted cap and peeled off his gloves. "Dad's home!" yelled Doug, the youngest of their four children, pulling him into the warm living room where Brenda was opening boxes of ornaments. "They closed up th' mill and let us go home," said Tommy. " Looks to be a really heavy snow and blow." He crossed the room in his stocking feet and kissed his wife, who pushed him playfully and said, "Tommy, stop it! Your mustache is covered with ice!"

Not long after, Tommy had finished his yearly decorating duty of stringing the lights across the floor and checking for burnt-out bulbs. After stringing the lights around the tree he contented himself with directing Brenda from his recliner. Jeremy, the oldest boy, carefully removed the ornaments from squares of Kleenex and passed them to his sister, Lois, who inserted a metal hook. She, in turn, passed them to their mother, who placed them on the tree. Periodically she stepped back to inspect her work. "Not a bad day to be home from school, kiddos," said Tommy from his chair. "Do we need another log in the wood stove?"

Scott, the middle boy came around the corner from the kitchen. He was holding Charlie by the collar. "Hey, Dad, I wish Pastor Dee Anna didn't want this dog. He sure is a good one, though." He came over to his father's chair, "Do you think we could have a dog, huh?" Tommy tousled Scott's blond hair. "Did you ask Santa for one?" he teased.

Brenda stopped and turned with a concerned look on her face. "I hope Pastor Dee Anna's father will be all right. Have you heard anything? It's a shame, her having to leave just as we were getting ready for Advent. "

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

Jim Johnson woke precisely at six in the morning, wishing that he could sleep in. "Why," he wondered aloud, "does my body think it still has to get up and get to the school? Wonder how long it'll be before I can actually sleep in without feeling guilty?" Lorene was already up, and she came into their bedroom from the hallway. She was wrapped in a terry cloth bathrobe and her grey hair, usually piled on top of her head and sprayed stiff, was pulled back in a thick ponytail.

"I've been up a while. Have you looked outside? It's snowin' to beat th' band out there. The coffee's on. Seems like a good day to make a batch of stew with some of that venison Tommy Halverson gave you last fall."

"There will be no school today," said her husband from long habit. "Guess I won't be heading to Rhinelander to buy your Christmas present today either." After a pause, he said, " I think I'll call Pastor Dee Anna in a bit to see how it's going down south."

Lorene came to the side of the bed and leaned over to kiss the top of Jim's bald head. "Get up, Honey. We have decorating to do." Jim sat up and wrapped his arms around his ample wife. "Or you could come back to bed instead," he said with a grin. "It's cold in here."

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

Chad lived in a little house just around the corner from North Woods Chapel. He was using his unexpected day off from the mill to prepare for the upcoming holidays. He had tried to go back to sleep after he heard he wouldn't be working, but it hadn't worked. So he'd donned a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and after making himself a bowl of instant oatmeal, had started dusting the living room. His house was rather bare, but it was neat and organized. He made his way around the room, dusting the small end tables, lamps with bases made of tooled leather, and a picture of a wolf in snowy woods. He ran the vacuum quickly over an oval braided rug and mopped the small kitchen.

Satisfied, he headed to the basement to begin hauling up boxes of Christmas items. After about an hour he had erected a small artificial tree, had it lit, and was arranging his mother's collection of Norwegian trolls in front of the books that lined shelves covering most of one wall. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare stood beside the Little House books. Those had come to him from his mother, as had the hard backed volumes of the Chronicles of Narnia series, bound in several deep colors and with the titles etched in gold on the spines. Chad touched the books gently for a moment as he placed the last troll. "I miss you, Mom," he said quietly, "and you too, Dad." He smiled as he added, "And Dad, I do appreciate your books too." He was referring to several books for the home handy man, a series purchased over several months from The Readers Digest. These stood on the bottom shelf next to a red checked volume of Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook.

Next, Chad opened the lid on a boxes of ornaments and removed a handmade snowman with CHAD printed in block letters on the bottom. Third grade, he recalled. He had been so proud of it, wrapping it carefully in tissue paper and bringing it home from school in his backpack, along with a handwritten card for his mother.

Suddenly he realized her felt tired and sat down on a small brown sofa. His thoughts drifted to the day his family had moved into this house. He had been seven or eight years old, maybe about the age of Madeline Hanson. What a long time it seemed since his parents had been gone. Opening his eyes, he looked sadly at the box of ornaments. Almost every one of them had a story. He wished there was someone with whom to share them.

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

Dennis and Marla Whitewater were cleaning up from their departed company. Marla pulled sheets from the bunk bed in the loft and and piled them in a laundry basket. Uh oh. One of the cousins had left a sweatshirt under the bed. "Good thing everyone got out of here yesterday. If they had stayed one more day they might have had to stay put till this snow ends" she called to her husband. They were alone in the house; their two sons had spent the night at a friends and had called to say they were staying put till they could get their truck out of the driveway.

"I love your sister and her family, Babe, but I must say I'm glad to have you to myself again. Besides," Dennis said, grinning and poking his head around the door of the spare bedroom, broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other, "you know what they say about relatives. Just like fish...they stink after three days." He ducked as a pillow sailed across the room.

Marla laughed, "Just be glad it wasn't both sisters! And with all the relatives you have around here you are the last one to talk!" Then she grew suddenly serious. "Speaking of visits and family, I wonder how it is going with our pastor and her family? Have you heard from her?"

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

Lee Coats had finished his morning milking and settled things in the barn so as not to have to go back out anytime soon. Now he was paying bills. Or that was what he was supposed to be doing. He was sitting at his computer warming up with a cup of hot coffee, checkbook open and bills spread across the desk. After fifteen minutes he had still not entered his bank password. He was staring out the window as the snow grew more and more intense and the wind increased, making the house creak. The words of an old Barry McGuire song came into his mind:

I walked a mile with pleasure,
She chatted all the way.
Left me none the wiser with all she had to say.
I walked a mile with sorrow,
Never a word said she,
But oh, the things I learned from her,
When sorrow walked with me.

"I don't think I'm learning anything!" He spoke aloud and his voice was angry, surprising him.

"The weather knows how I feel," he thought to himself, dropping his head into his hands. He could hear that Mary had finally gotten up and was in the shower. "What am I going to do about Mary, God?" He felt sorrow rising in his chest like a wave, and he choked back a sob. "God, you know how I love her, and how hard I have tried to be a good husband, to be a loving leader, to help her become the beautiful person I know she is. I've encouraged her to pray, to stick with her devotions, to get more involved, and nothing seems to work. Every December it gets even worse. What more is a Christian husband supposed to do?"

The only answer was the whistle of the wind around the corner of the house and the rattle of the window pane. Lee heard the shower stop, and he lifted his head and typed his password on the keyboard. Might as well get something accomplished. Maybe later he could get Mary to work on Christmas decorating. Or maybe not. Maybe this year they would skip the tree.

--------

"Oh, this is good news!" Dee Anna put an arm around her mother and smiled at her. "Phil and I will get the Christmas tree up tonight, and it will be all set for when Daddy comes home next week." She turned to Phil who was sitting on the foot of their father's bed. "Won't we, Bro?"

"Uh, sure. I guess so. Right now I need to get myself to work." He stood to his feet and moved to the head of the bed. "Dad, I'll make sure things are set for you and Mom." He kissed his mother lightly on the cheek, surprising himself. She smiled faintly and patted his arm. "See you right after work, Dee Anna," he smiled at his sister, "It sure would be nice if you make some spaghetti for tonight."

"Hey," interjected their father from the bed, "I want some spaghetti too!" He frowned. "And how are y'all gonna get the lights to work on that tree? Nobody ever seems to get it right except me."

Father's Day Thoughts

Happy Fathers Day!

I remember my father once telling me that as he aged he thought more and more about his long-deceased father, dreamed about him, missed him. How strange it seems today that I am about the age my dad was when he told me this, and I find it to be true for me as well.

My father has been gone for a long time. At the time of his death, more than 20 years ago, he was an active, healthy 72 year-old, teaching the Bible, visiting the sick and involved in life. My sisters and I thought we'd have our father for many more years, but an aneurysm turned him into one of those "healthiest guy in the cemetery" statistics.

Funny, 72 seems even younger these days than it did then.

My father was a bundle of contradictions. He was loving but could be hurtful. He was wise and he was foolish. His uncompromising and sometimes rigid attitude was frustrating, but we always knew where he stood. He was ahead of his time, and he was hopelessly old-fashioned. He once told me, in a surprising conversation, to dream big dreams, but he was distressed that I left the Southern Baptist fold, and even more distressed when he learned I thought women could preach. He was warm and funny and tender hearted, a man who cried easily. He was also a man who would speak up for what was right, or what he thought was right, without fear of consequences. And then he could be dangerously indecisive when it counted most.

He loved God, and he loved his children, and he loved people and he loved life. I miss him.

Here is a poem from Rev Abi, one of the Rev Gal Blog Pals who writes here. I'm using this prayer at the prison chapel today, where many of the men who will be at services will be struggling with memories of absent, abusive, uncaring fathers--and some will be struggling as they face the fact that they themselves were an absent, or abusive or uncaring father.

God,

We today pray for Fathers near and far.
We pray for Fathers alive and Fathers who are dead.
We pray for Fathers who were present with their children and those who were absent.
We pray for new Fathers and old Fathers.
We pray for those who loved well and those who did not love as well.

We pray for Fathers who play(ed) with their children and those who don’t.
We pray for those who take their fathering seriously and those who don’t.
We pray for biological dads and dads who raised us.
We pray for those who don’t get to be dads at all.

We pray for Fathers who were let down by their dads,
We pray for Fathers who were not loved by their fathers.
We pray for Fathers who missed out on the presence of fathers.
We pray for fathers whose fathers did not play with them.

We pray for Fathers who may be caught up in this recession and lost their jobs.
We pray for Fathers who serve in the military in far away places and lands.
We pray for Fathers who may be trapped by addictions.
We pray for Fathers who are serving in prison away from their children.
We pray for Fathers who are all wrapped up in their work too busy for their children.

We pray for our fathers.
We pray for them to have strength, wisdom and courage.
We pray for them to raise their children in the way that they should go.
We pray for them to love, laugh, play and live.
We pray for forgiveness for our fathers, for their shortcomings, their weaknesses, and their abuses.

And God we pray that we may then be able to pray to you Abba Daddy.

Amen

Little Big Foot: More Surprises

It had been an amazing few days, Phil thought. Meeting his sister at the airport had been difficult, but a relief. She had seemed genuinely glad to see him, and they had already begun to regain their friendly footing with one another. Then there was the realization that their mother actually loved their father, then her astounding revelation of an side they never dreamed existed, culminated with an unexpected and distressing pregnancy, then the nurse’s phone call and a relived reunion with his father as the family had arrived at the hospital to find him awake and wanting to talk.

Their conversations were necessarily short, of course, but had been uncharacteristically straightforward but gentle. It almost seemed as though something had happened to his father when he was unconscious, Phil mused. He was more serious, but in a good way.

Bud had beckoned his wife to come close and then had cupped her face in his hands. As their parents had both began to weep quietly, Dee Anna and Phil had left the room, glancing at one another in a kind of wonder. Later his father had taken his hand and said, “Son, I am sorry I criticized you so much. I know you are a good man.” To Dee Anna he had said little but had simply enfolded her in a long embrace and stroked her hair. Something, it seemed, was happening.

Phil rose from a vinyl hospital chair, hearing the approaching voices of the children’s choir from First Baptist. He glanced over at his father, who was sleeping, and then he peeked out the door and down the hall. Sarah was leading Christmas the children in singing “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”

Phil had encountered the choir director at an AA meeting. He had been surprised, remembering her as the daughter of a man known as a”hell-fire-and-brimstone preacher.” She had nodded and smiled at him, and after the meeting, they had somehow ended up eating ice cream at the Dairy Queen. Sarah had shared a little of life after she had left home to attend Texas State University, and she had acknowledged that she had heard of his drug problems and his subsequent return to their home town. Her father was now a resident at Shady Acres Convalescent Center, the victim of Alzheimer’s disease, and her mother was enjoying a happy and healthy 70th decade. She had intended, she said, to stay away, but had shrugged as she added, “It’s been all right. I came home to help Mama, and she is the one who’s helping me.”

Sarah looked over and saw him, and she waved as she sang. Shyly, Phil waved back, feeling like a kid caught being sneaky. He chuckled at himself, wondering if this meant he was infatuated. His mother had gone to speak with Dr. Martin, but he wasn’t sure what had happened to Dee Anna.

Deciding to go look for her, he headed to the family lounge, wondering if he had a dollar to spend on a Coke. He was a few steps inside before he realized that his sister was talking intently with the same pretty nurse they had seen before. Hadn’t they gone to school together? He thought he remembered her from choir, a freshman perhaps, when he was a senior.

He backed out of the room and wandered towards the carolers.
----
Dee Anna and Lupita were reminiscing. Lupita's shift was over and she should have gone home, but she had stayed to talk with her old schoolmate. They had settled into a couple of chairs in the lounge and sipped overpriced soft drinks from the vending machine while they talked of mutual acquaintances, and Dee Anna had wondered who was still in town and who had moved away, who had married, who was still single, who had been a surprising success. After a while they ran out of things to say and grew silent.

After a few moments of sipping their cans of Dr. Pepper, Lupita shifted in her chair, leaning forward with a serious expression as she asked, "So, it is true then, you really are a pastor?" Dee Anna nodded, and Lupita went on, "I always knew you'd be someone special."

"I'm not special," replied Dee Anna, surprised. "Well, no more than anyone else."

"Some are more special than others, Chica!" said Lupita, grinning. "I remember you from grade school, with your red hair and beautiful green eyes. I used to wish I looked like you. And that my mother looked like yours--still so lovely isn't she? Your mother was always good to us."

Dee Anna laughed, "I hated my hair." Then she quietly asked, "And what happened to your mother? Is she living? Is she well? Or..."

Lupita looked surprised as she replied, "Oh my! Y'all don't know? My mother is doing very well. Thank you for asking. She almost died...and then she just started to get better and better and after a while she was her old self, only more alive than I'd ever seen her. She lives with her sister now, and the two of them are enjoying each other, shopping, going to the movies, getting their hair done..." Lupita chuckled, "Well, doing the things they never had time or energy to do when they were younger."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. I know it must have been hard for you when we were seniors and she was ill and you had brothers and sisters at home." Dee Anna paused, wondering if she was getting too personal, but Lupita nodded.

"Yes. It was very hard. I was tired all the time. I pretty much dropped out of everything. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to go to college, but after your mother invited us to church and helped us so much, I..."

"What?"

Lupita went on, "It made such a difference to us to know that th' folks at your church cared. Your mom came over one day, and I...I was so embarrassed that the place was a mess. And she just shushed me, and she asked where the broom was and I still remember how she put her hands on her hips and looked around and said, 'We are fixin' to get some work done!'"

Lupita's eyes sparkled as she added, "I was amazed at how she got all us kids organized and working, and pretty soon it looked like a different place."

"My mother?"

Lupita looked puzzled, "Sure! Didn't you know?"

"Um," Dee Anna took a deep breath, "Well, no."

"Oh my yes! She got all of us going to Sunday School, and one Sunday when Mother felt better she came too. Everyone welcomed us, and made us feel at home..." She paused, "well, you know...it's changed, but back then we thought maybe they'd expect us to go to Templo Calvario. I mean....well..."

"Yes, I understand" said Dee Anna simply, reaching to touch Lupita's hand. "Are you saying my mother brought y'all to our church?" She was chagrined to hear how easily she was slipping back into the speech patterns she'd deliberately avoided. Still, she had to admit, Lupita's mix of soft Spanish accent and Texas drawl made her feel at ease. Dee Anna went on, "And your mom too?"
"That's what I'm saying, Dee Anna!" Lupita looked surprised, "I mean, I thought y'all knew that."

"No."

"Well, she did, and your dad and Pastor Don Ellis, remember him? The two of them organized some of the men to help with some repairs at the house, and, well...it was the beginning of so many good things. The people loved us, and they prayed for my mom, and she went to a different doctor over to th' Lincoln clinic, and she got better. It was Pastor Don who helped me find out about grants and apply for a couple of scholarships and it worked out so that I could go to nursing school. When I got on the Dean's List, your mama and daddy sent me a card with fifty dollars in it!"

Dee Anna stared, speechless, as Lupita went on, "I guess you take after your mother. She is a no-nonsense lady, but then so are you." She added, a little shyly, "I will never, as long as I live, forget the day when that Hutchinson boy from th' edge of town called me...called me a name...and you came flying by me and smacked him! I like to died!" She burst out laughing, then stopped, noticing Dee Anna's open mouth.

"What is it, Dee Anna? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Dee Anna reached out and grasped Lupita's hands. "I...oh no. I just...well..." she took a deep breath. "All this is news to me. It's wonderful, of course. It's just that...well...I'm surprised I didn't know about any of it."

Lupita looked surprised. "I just thought you and your mama probably talked all about it, us graduating together and all..."

Dee Anna thought, but did not say, "I didn't talk to Mom much after I left town."

After a moment in which both were silent, Lupita said, "I know it has been a long day for all of y'all, but...if you wouldn't mind...sometime I'd love to hear a little about how you became a pastor. I know you went off to some school, but nothing much after that. I've never seen a woman pastor before, but, oh yes I did heard that you...married a preacher too. And you have a little girl?"

Neither of them had noticed Phil as he entered, and then exited, the room.

Finding Little Big Foot: Spanish People

Chapter Twenty-Five (and it only took me a year and 4 months to write them). Anyone still reading?

Brrrrrrrt!

Who has a phone that sounds like that anymore? Dee Anna thought, startled. The ringing stifled Phil's laughter and brought sudden silence--as shocking in its way as the laughter had been, except for the phone's jarring summons. For a long moment no one stirred and their expressions stiffened in apprehension. It was Dee Anna who rose and moved to the wall by the back door where a turquoise-hued phone still hung. As Dee Anna lifted the receiver, she felt an odd fracturing in her thoughts. Part of her was cold and still. Another part of her was expectant, almost excited. She also found herself wondering why her mother would redecorate the kitchen yet leave the old phone, rotary dial and all, in place.

It was Nurse Lupita. Dee Anna remembered Lupita as a quiet, pretty girl who did well in school in spite of caring for an ill mother and several younger siblings. She must be working some long hours, Dee Anna thought, remembering that she had been in the hospital the afternoon before. She was glad that the call, whatever it was going to be, was not from a stranger.

In high school Dee Anna, while friendly, had not exactly been close to Lupita. She had refused to engage in the demeaning remarks she sometimes heard and once had slapped a lanky boy who had called their classmate "that beaner bitch." They had both gotten detention. Dee Anna remembered trying to explain to her father why she, for the one and only time in her life, had been required to stay after school. Her father had said little except to pat her on the hand and admonish, "Jesus tells us to turn the other cheek, Dee Anna."

Dee Anna had wondered how that applied to an insult given not to her but to someone else. Wasn't justice important? She didn't ask. She had decided to stay silent and consider herself fortunate that her father had been the one to get the call from the principal. He had not spoken of the incident to Bernice.

Lupita was from "a Spanish family" who lived in an area known simply as "the east side." Her father had died in some farm accident, Dee Anna dimly recalled, when Lupita was about ten years old. Lupita's mother had done laundry, ironing, and housework for many of Bernice's friends. She had become ill--was it some kind of cancer?--and her daughter had dropped out of the Drama Club because she couldn't come to rehearsals. They had been preparing for "Hello Dolly." The rest of the cast had felt sorry for Lupita, who had a lovely voice.

"Spanish" people were considered acceptable in Dee Anna's childhood world, at least somewhat welcome in school and the workplace. "Mexicans" on the other hand, were to be avoided, except when manual labor needed to be done. Mexicans were on the low end of the social scale, just above those with even darker skins who lived in yet another part of town. Both groups attended different churches than the white people.

Dee Anna had accepted all this as normal until about age 14 when she began to be acutely aware of how things were in other places. Once when Bernice had spoken of an electrician as "that Spanish man," Dee Anna had scornfully asked her, "Are there actually Spanish people in these parts?"

Bernice had looked at her as if she'd lost her wits and said, "What are you talking about, Dee Anna? You know very well there are. Aren't you listening? I just told you that the Spanish man who works with your Uncle Chuck will be here tomorrow to replace the wiring on the porch."

"Really, Mother?" Dee Anna had questioned with wide eyes, " From Spain?" Her mother had given her a long, hard look and said nothing.

"They are Mexicans, Mother. Or if you want to get with the times, they are Hispanics."

Bernice had snapped, "Mexicans are field hands" and slammed the door as she left her daughter's room. They never spoke of the subject again.

Remembering, Dee Anna felt an all-too-familiar mixture of frustration and regret. She should have tried to understand her mother. She should have been a better friend to Lupita, whom she had genuinely admired.

She suddenly thought, "What happened to Lupita's mother?"

"Is this Dee Anna?" said the voice on the phone. Dee Anna's thoughts jerked to the present as she ran her hand through her hair. She took a deep breath.

"Yes... Is this Lupita? What is it? Is my father...:?"

"Is your mother awake and all right?"

""Yes. We're all up. Is something wrong?"

""Oh no, Dee Anna."

The voice was unchanged from when it's owner was sixteen, and Dee Anna found that oddly comforting.

"Dr Martin is here. Your father is awake and asking for your mother. Can you come soon?"

The Rev Gal Friday Five: Patience

Trying to get back in the swing of blogging, here is my first Friday Five in a very long time.  It is brief, but it is here.  :-)   It comes from Sally, who is looking over her beautiful garden and pondering patience.  She says,

"Patience is something that sometimes comes easy and sometimes doesn't, in the case of the garden it is easy, I can see the growth and know that waiting will produce good results. With other things patience is more difficult.  Along with looking forward to eating our own veggies, we are also looking forward to seeing four of our children graduate with Bachelors degrees this year, they have worked hard over the three years and stuck at it through some difficult stuff. It would have been easy for them to give up, but they haven't. Persistence often pays off, but we need to be aware that it sometimes turns into sheer pig headedness."

With all that in mind, she offers this Friday Five:

1. Is patience a virtue you possess? If it is then does it come naturally, if not how do you/ did you work at it?

Yes and no. When if comes to people, hoping for improvement, growth, etc. I am very patient.  When it comes to situation...not so much.  I find, oddly enough, that I am less patient the older I get.  I thought it would be the other way around.

2. Being patient with ourselves can be a huge challenge, we are often our own worst critics; is there anything you need to be patient with yourself with at the moment?

About a dozen things.  I have mild cerebral palsy which was caused from being premature.  Many people don't know unless they pay attention, but it does cause me to have vision problems as well as being basically clumsy!  This is getting worse, and causing me concern...and if I fall, as I did recently, even though I (of course) would choose otherwise, I tend to get mad at myself and figure I was just careless.  I need to cut myself slack--but that is true in a lot of ways, not just one.  I don't know why I can be patient with just about everyone but myself.

3. Are you the kind of person who can/ will persist with a difficult task? How much of this is personality related?

Depends on the task.  Math problem?  No way!  Something that I really need to do, yes.  But I can't say it is enjoyable.
4. Can you spot when persistence turns into pig headedness, or do you never get there?

Ha!  I think I am never pig headed.  Seriously.  My husband would say otherwise.

5. Post a song or a poem that chills you out and helps you to re-group, re-focus and carry on? Okay, this is a really bad version of this song, but I used to sing it to my kiddos and I still do...to myself. Not all the verses, just the chorus.

Have patience, have patience,
Don't be in such a hurry
When you get impatient,
You only start to worry.
Remember, remember,
That God is patient too,
And think of all the times when others
Had to wait....for you.



Hmmm...that is about being patient with others.  Where is a song about being patient with ME?

Re-discovering Calling, Re-discovering Gifts, Finding Our Way Again

Click on the post title above to visit one of my favorite bloggers across the pond, Sally of Eternal Echoes. I just had a conversation with a fellow AG minister who was pondering similar things and concluded, "I refuse to live any longer under the bondage that if I just 'do it right' I will have a big church." He was speaking of our own fellowship, but apparently we aren't the only ones pondering this. Wonderfully written, Sally, as always.

Trinity Goes to a Rendezvous Camp

Last weekend we did this --and Trinity came along. Four days away from Mommy and Daddy was a long stretch for a three-year-old, but she had so much fun she did not want to leave. Every Memorial Day weekend, we go to Frontiers Camping Fellowship Family Camp. This one is different than others I've posted about because it is leaders of Royal Rangers (an Assemblies of God boy's group sort of like scouting) and their families. FCF is a group not everyone chooses to join, but those who do are sort of like other rendezvous reenactors I have posted about.

We see friends we sometimes haven't see for a year, have lots of fun, spend time singing and having devotions around a camp fire, and eat too much.

It was great to see you, Tom and Cindy and Bob and Darla and Stew and Debbie, and Gerry and Debbie and Gary and Heather...and so on. Here is Trinity, having a great time.


Mommy made T.'s calico dress, a plains Indian style. Trinity made the "beautiful" beaded necklace and the candy bracelet.


I'm making up my bed, Grandma!

Papa bought me a beautiful new dress. Look at my beautiful skirt. It goes out! Do you like it? (T. likes the word "beautiful.)

I love it too! Thank you, Papa!


Here is another new dress, actually more Civil War period, but...whatever. Well, it didn't exactly go with the pink plastic Disney Princess shoes, but other than that she looked like a doll.

Ewww! That ant is eating that dead catta-piller. Don't step on it!

Back to camp. She refused to change into something cooler.

Dancing with glowy things at night! Blow out the lantern, Papa, so we can see!


Four days of nonstop fun with lots of other children, necklace making, "glowy things" each night, marshmallow roasting, learning new words and new songs and socializing with the entire encampment, and Miss Trinity was exhausted by Monday. This is about 8 a.m. She showed a very plucky side. She insisted on trying everything the big kids did, including bobbing for apples (I did NOT expect her to stick her head in the water), Frisbee tossing, and many other things she couldn't do--but don't tell HER that. I love her confidence. I love this kid. :-)

A Prayer for the World

Earlier this week I invited you to participate with me and other Christians around the world in the Global Day of Prayer. If you pray aloud it will take about five minutes.

Almighty God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
Together with believers all over the world,
we gather today to glorify Your Name.
You are the Creator of heaven and earth.
There is no one like You, holy and righteous in all Your ways.
We submit to Your authority as the King of the universe.
We pray with one voice to enthrone You in our hearts
and to honour You before the world.
Lord God, You alone are worthy of our praise and adoration.

Our Father in heaven,
Thank You for loving the world so greatly.
You gave Your only Son, Jesus Christ,
to die on the cross for our sins
so that we could be reconciled to You.
We are grateful to call You Father and to be called Your children.
Nothing can separate us from Your love.
Thank You Father for adopting us into Your family
because of Jesus Christ our Saviour.

Lord Jesus Christ,
You alone are worthy to open the scrolls of history,
for You were slain and have redeemed us to the Father by Your blood.
We confess that You are Head of the Church
and Lord of all heaven and earth.
May people from every tribe and language become Your followers
so that Your blessing brings transformation among all peoples.
Let Your kingdom be established in every nation of the world
so that governments will rule with righteousness and justice.
And may Your Name be great, from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Jesus Christ, You are the Saviour of the world and the Lord of all.

God of mercy and grace,
We acknowledge that we have sinned
and that our world is gripped by the power of sin.
Our hearts are grieved by injustice, hatred and violence.
We are shamed by oppression, racism and bloodshed in our land.
We mourn all loss of life in murder, war, and terrorism.
Our homes are broken and our churches are divided by rebellion and pride.
Our lives are polluted by selfishness, greed, idolatry and sexual sin.
We have grieved Your heart and brought shame to Your Name.
Have mercy on us as we repent with all our hearts.
God of mercy, forgive our sins. Pour out Your grace and heal our land.

Spirit of the living God,
Apart from You, we can do nothing.
Transform Your Church into the image of Jesus Christ.
Release Your power to bring healing to the sick,
freedom to the oppressed and comfort to those who mourn.
Pour Your love into our hearts and fill us with compassion
to answer the call of the homeless and the hungry
and to enfold orphans, widows and the elderly in Your care.
Give us wisdom and insight for the complex problems we face today.
Help us to use the resources of the earth for the well-being of all.
Holy Spirit, we need Your comfort and guidance. Transform our hearts.

Lord Jesus Christ,
Because You were dead, but are now risen,
and the Father has given You a Name above all names,
You will defeat all powers of evil.
Tear down strongholds and ideologies that resist the knowledge of God.
Remove the veil of darkness that covers the peoples.
Restrain the evil that promotes violence and death.
Bring deliverance from demonic oppression.
Break the hold of slavery, tyranny and disease.
Fill us with courage to preach Your word fearlessly,
and to intercede for the lost faithfully.
Almighty God, deliver us from evil.

King of Glory,
Come and finish Your work in our cities, our peoples and our nations.
We lift our voices in unison with believers from Africa and Asia,
from the Middle East and Europe, from North and South America,
and from Australia and the Pacific Islands—together we cry:
Lift up your heads, O you gates!
Be lifted up ancient doors so that the King of glory may come in!
As Your deeds increase throughout the earth,
and as Your blessings abound to all the nations,
they will seek You, asking, “Who is this King of glory?”
Together we will answer:
He is the Lord Almighty!
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!
Come fill the earth with Your glory as the waters cover the sea.
The Spirit and the Bride say:
Amen! Come Lord Jesus!

The New Mosque & the US Constitution & a Few Jesus Quotes Too

Before I get to the real point, I want to establish a few things.

• I do not believe God is a Republican. (Yes, I'm speaking tongue in cheek. But I do not believe either party has it all right. Never have.)
• The Puritans came to "The New World" not because they were brave or adventurous but because they had been persecuted for their religious beliefs. (I used to talk about this each Thanksgiving week when I was a pastor, and someone always told me they had no idea...)
• The words "separation of church and state" are not found in the US Constitution nor in the additional Bill of Rights.
• There is no such thing as a "Christian nation." We were never that--though it is true that most of our leaders, and indeed our citizens, believe in God (or, as they were likely to say in a previous time, "Divine Providence.")
• I believe we were founded upon Judeo-Christian PRINCIPLES, and that the writings of our forebears make that very clear. Maybe some day I'll post about that.
• I think there was an intent by our founding fathers NOT to establish a state religion (as can be found in the majority of European countries and in our mother country of England, where the reigning monarch is also the "defender of the faith").

Here is the first amendment.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

That's it.

I could write about 10 rants about this subject and how I think the whole arena of "church & state" has been mangled beyond recognition--until abridging the freedom of speech has become commonplace in our local high school, and a kid gets in trouble for talking about God to a friend. While the majority of Americans who identify themselves with a religion or denomination are one form of "Christian" or another I've never heard anyone suggest there should be a law establishing a state religion.

Yet, while those who labored over our amazing constitution were avoiding a national, state-sponsored and funded religion, they were also affirming our freedom to believe, or not to believe, to go to a Christian church or a Jewish temple (or a Buddhist one) or to stay home and read the funny papers without fear of reprisal from the government.

So what is the point?

I am dismayed at the reaction in our county to the fact that a small group of Muslims have acquired a former store in which to establish a mosque. Reading the paper, and looking at pictures and viewing a video of a local civic meeting would lead one to believe that a group of known, previously-arrested, avowed friends of Osama Bin Laden have arrived and announced "Death to all."

Perhaps I should be honest and say that I find much in the Koran that is profoundly troubling, and I am not a fan of Islam for many reasons. But it is quite something else to be carrying a sign that reads

No Jesus
=
Know Jihad

or protesting, or name-calling, or angrily quoting the first commandment ("Thou shalt have no other gods before me") to the city council and warning them that they will rue the day they allowed a mosque anywhere near. Sorry, but all that stuff is just plain old fashioned bigotry and ignorance--ignorance of so many things I don't know where to begin!

Just one day ago a speaker on a local religious radio station said, "When it comes to discussions with people of other religions you dare not be polite. " He used Jesus' encounters with SOME of the Jewish community to justify his assertion. My husband turned to me and said, "That's not true! Did I hear him right?" Yes, unfortunately, he did!

Last time I checked, no one I know claims to be the Messiah. We cannot know the thoughts, or intentions of our fellow human beings. We are sometimes required to be judges of actions and behavior, but we are not the judge of the human heart. Only God can be that.

First off, let's spend more time pondering these words of Jesus:
Jesus replied, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind." This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: "Love your neighbor as yourself." All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments" (Matthew 22:37-40). Jesus went on to tell the story commonly known as "The Good Samaritan," a story with some profound implications of how damaging it is when we judge those we consider different or not as righteous as we are. Or how about these words, “Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets. Matthew 7:12

One of my favorite biblical scholars and apologists, Ravi Zacharias, says that without love, faithfulness, and personal integrity the message of grace often goes unheard and that if we want to have a positive impact we must be willing to take the time to actually learn what someone else thinks. He adds that most people of other faiths could rightly say to many [most?] Christians, "You don't know anything about what I really believe."

The imam of the little group of Muslims in our county said he hoped people would get to know them and put the ugliness of the process behind them. Do you think they feel respected, valued and loved, or do you think they feel misjudged and misunderstood and maybe even hated? Are they likely to share their customs, beliefs, hopes and fears with anyone who stood up at the meeting and denounced them?

If someone said we could not have a church in their community because of what some Christians somewhere else did or did not do, wouldn't we be upset and feel we were being unfairly judged? How do many of us feel about countries where churches are not allowed and where sharing one's faith is not only considered impolite but is unlawful? What if someone carried a sign that said

Christian
=
the Inquisition?

And secondly, as I said to begin with, one of our founding principles is freedom of religion. And that means not just the kind we know and like. Those of us who sometimes are troubled by what we regard as the misunderstanding or misquoting of the constitution believe in the free exercise of religion--don't we? So let's stand up and say so and stop denying others the rights and freedoms we want for ourselves. Anything else is unamerican.

Global Day of Prayer on Pentecost Sunday

Across the globe, millions of Christians are planning to meet together in churches, stadiums, parks and homes for the sixth annual Global Day of Prayer held on Pentecost Sunday.

This prayer movement started in South Africa at the turn of the millennium when many Christians in Cape Town sensed a calling to assemble in prayer. When the invitation went out for the people across South Africa to unite in prayer for their cities and nation, people filled halls and stadiums of every size!

Year after year, millions more sought God together from almost every stream or tradition of the Christian faith in every country of the African continent.

In 2005, the African Christians invited the world to join them and the result was the first Global Day of Prayer. About 200 million people participated.

In 2006, 2007, 2008 and again in 2009, millions of Christians gathered in almost every country on earth. The movement continues to spread and deepen. We anticipate that 214 million are taking part this year.

Along with worship and other prayers, participants are asked to pray a specific prayer together. I will post it on Pentecost Sunday, so if you'd like to join me--and many more around the world--in prayer, I invite you to visit here at The Owl's Song next Sunday.

May 23, 2010, Christians from six churches in the Plymouth, Wisconsin area will join the movement for the first time by gathering at Riverview Middle School at 3 pm. We gather to pray and repent with humility, sincere hearts and united hopes. If you would like more information about that gathering or about Plymouth's 90-day involvement and how you can pray and serve, visit GLOBAL DAY OF PRAYER-Plymouth.

The Charismatic Renewal is 50

I found this article interesting.

Has the influence of the movement spread like yeast through bread?
Are there changes in the broad church world that are permanant?
Have the well-publicized excesses of some charismatic "celebrities" spoiled the loaf?

Little Big Foot: Breakfast at the Home Place

Sorry it has been so long since the last installment about the pastor of Little Big Foot. I'll try to do better. Some current changes in my schedule might make writing a little easier. We left Dee Anna, her brother Phil, and her mother, Bernice, in the family waiting room, doing their best to comfort one another.

The chortle of a rooster woke Dee Anna next morning. Er errr errrrrrrraa!

She thought foggily, "They don't say cock-a-doodle-doo."

A rooster? They had never had chickens. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. It was early. The red numerals on the digital alarm clock read 6:15. Even so, a wide swath of Texas sunshine streamed across the floor. The house was quiet.

After a few moments of vainly trying to go back to sleep she stretched and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Might as well get up.

A few minutes later, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, she tiptoed down the hall and into the kitchen. Passing the door to the living room, she was mildly surprised to see that an undecorated Christmas tree stood in the corner. She'd almost forgotten it was nearly Christmas. She realized she was cold and turned up the thermostat. Maybe not as cold as Wisconsin, but still cold.

Her thoughts went to the snow-covered woods and the back roads of Little Big Foot. When she had left for the airport a crew of workers had been hoisting Christmas lights over Main Street. Better call someone there today. She wondered whether Marla had finished setting up the front of the sanctuary for Advent. Had the Boy Scouts delivered the large wreath...?

The rooster's crow startled her. It sounded close. She moved to the window over the sink and gazed outside. Sure enough, a neat little chicken coop stood to the side of the house, surrounded by a small enclosure. A white rooster strutted across the ground, and a few Rhode Island Reds moved about. Chickens?

She turned and looked around the kitchen, feeling a little guilty that it had been so long since she'd been home. The old linoleum had been replaced with a nice blue-flecked tile, and the walls had been painted pale yellow. White curtains with a yellow and blue pattern hung at the windows. Green plants were in evidence, one hanging by the window to the porch, one on the wooden table, one sitting in a corner of the counter. It was nice, Dee Anna thought. Inviting.

She found the coffee and started a pot brewing, and she located cups and plates. Rummaging in the pantry she found biscuit mix. Realizing she was hungry, she decided to make breakfast.

She found a tablecloth in the same drawer they had been years ago. She smiled as she ran her hand over the rough cotton and the embroidered roses. Her Grandma, whom she'd never known, had been a skilled needlewoman. So had he mother, Dee Anna recalled. She herself had never managed to stitch anything worth keeping.

Not long afterwards, Bernice stood in the doorway, quietly watching Dee Anna set the table, noting how her daughter's tousled red hair gleaming in the occasional kiss of sunshine. Dee Anna was wearing pink fluffy slippers, Bernice noticed, and she smiled faintly. It was good to wake up to the aroma of coffee and biscuits. It was good to have Dee Anna in the house.

"Did you hear Ricky Rooster?" she asked, startling her daughter.

Dee Anna turned, smiling, "Ricky Rooster? Seriously?" She glanced toward the window. "He woke me up. When did you get chickens?"

"Oh yes, that's his name," said Bernice, moving to the table and sitting down heavily. "Your father decided I needed something to do that would get me outside." She frowned. "And he figured we could use the fresh eggs and a roasted bird now and again. So he got the chicks from a Mexican family over on Rogers Road. We bought eggs there sometimes."

Dee Anna poured coffee into Bernice's cup and handed her the carton of creamer. She was still absorbing the idea of her mother caring for chickens. "Ricky Rooster?"

Her mother snorted, half in scorn and half with amusement. "Mr. Hernandez has a heavy accent. Your father always said he sounded like Ricky Ricardo on the old 'I Love Lucy' show. So he named our rooster Ricky."

They grew silent, as Dee Anna cracked eggs into a skilled and then opened the oven door and pulled out the biscuits. "Perfect," she thought. "Ha!" She had a momentary desire to turn and say, "Are these good enough for you, Mother?" She sighed as she turned to the woman at the table. "I'm going to go wake Phil up."

Dee Anna had been surprised that Phil had come home instead of heading for his little place in town. He had pointed out the apartment complex to her as they'd driven home from the hospital. Arriving at the house, Dee Anna had made some tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches as their mother had taken a quick shower, and after they had all eaten Phil had insisted Bernice go to bed. She had offered no resistance. As Dee Anna had cleaned up the dishes from their small supper, Phil had gone outside. Dee Anna wondered why she hadn't noticed the chickens and decided maybe he'd gone outside to check on them. They'd headed for bed soon after, both tired and both feeling awkward.

She stopped at the closed door of his old room. She hesitated, feeling strangely out of time and place. She rubbed one hand through her hair as she knocked softly with the other. "Phil? You awake?"

The door opened suddenly, startling her, and she stepped back. "I'm up." Phil smiled. " Can't say I'm awake, exactly."

Her brother stood silhouetted in bright light from a window. He was dressed in jeans too, but instead of a sweatshirt wore a plaid western-style shirt with pearly buttons. He pushed his sock-clad feet into his boots, which were standing by the door. Dee Anna glimpsed some of his old basketball trophies sitting in a bookcase. It's been a long time, she mused, surprised they had not been thrown away years ago.

"All set, sis. I got my boots on...I'm ready for anything." He stepped into the hall and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. "What do you do to your hair, woman?"

Dee Anna said nothing, but took his hand and moved to the kitchen. "I smell coffee," said Phil.

They were surprisingly hungry, even Bernice, and they ate in silence for several minutes. After a while, Phil put down his fork, looked up and said, "Good coffee. Good biscuits. Good eggs. Thanks, Danna." Dee Anna grinned, and Bernice said, "Of course they are." Her eyes were crinkled at the corners and a faint smile crossed her face. "I taught her."

They all had a second cup of coffee, talking of nothing in particular, but talking nonetheless. Then Bernice cleared her throat. Phil and Dee Anna looked at her, wondering what to expect.

"I want the two of you to know that I'm glad you came home." They waited. "It was hard sittin' in the hospital."

"I also want you to know that your daddy cares about you both. He missed you all those years," Bernice said to Phil, looking at him with a frown. "He worried, not knowing where you were. He loved you. I guess we didn't always show it like we might have." Phil looked at his plate.

"And you, Missy, don't you know how a father needs his daughter?" Dee Anna looked at her in surprise saying nothing. She thought, "Didn't always show it? Did you ever show it?" Ah, perhaps that was unfair. She did remember some times when her father had seemed to enjoy her company.

Her mother went on, "And you runnin' wild down in Dallas." Bernice stopped and cleared her throat. "Y'all know I'm a strong women, and y'all know your daddy is not always...." she stopped. "Well, Bud needed a strong woman, and I guess I was it."

Phil and Dee Anna were not used to conversations with their mother. Conversations about life had always been shared with each other, not with their parents. Looking at her mother, red hair in its eternal bun, faded but lovely face set in stern lines, Dee Anna realized that even as she'd longed for a mother like the ones some of her friends had, a mother that would hug her, take her shopping, whisper secrets--even though her mother had never been like that, Dee Anna had known her mother was strong and determined. She had known, somehow, that if she'd needed protecting it would have been her mother who stepped up to do the hard thing.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, sitting in the hospital and wondering if your father was going to wake up or not." She put her head in her hands. Then she sighed, sat up and straightened her shoulders. "I remembered a lot of things. I remembered the feeling of waking up in the morning being glad to be alive. The feeling that I had all the time in the world. Wondering if I'd be someone great. I used to read about Madame Curie and wonder if I'd be a great scientist someday." As her children looked at her in surprise, she said defensively, "I was always good in science class, you know."

No, they hadn't known that. What else didn't we know, wondered Dee Anna.

Bernice stared at Phil, scowling. Dee Anna saw the quick flash of apprehension in his eyes, followed by the guarded expression he seemed to wear these days.

"I suppose lots of people wondered why I, a girl with a lot of promise, valedictorian of my high school class..." Another surprise. "Why," she went on, "I married a man like Bud. I mean, his family was known for not bein' very good farmers. His daddy was lazy." She snorted. "He was a happy man, but he didn't know how to work." Bernice's expression grew far away and surprisingly soft. "But you know, your father was a good-looking man. My father didn't like him much, but I didn't care. I used to sneak out of a night and go over to that place on the highway..."
Phil and Dee Anna had no idea what place she was talking about, but they sat very still.

"We used to dance." Bernice smiled to herself, remembering. "He was a good dancer, all right."

"Dance?" Dee Anna couldn't stop the word from coming, her eyes round. "You and Daddy went dancing?" She was remembering the time she'd gone to a high school dance with some friends and her father had somehow found out, He'd come into the gym and demanded she come home. Ironically, the dee jay had been playing Footloose.

Her mother's face grew hard and Dee Anna wished she had stayed silent. "Oh yes, we certainly did. Bud was the best dancer of all our friends. All the girls wanted to dance with him. My father warned me, but I was a headstrong girl and I didn' t listen." She frowned at Dee Anna. "And you wondered why we had to be so strict all the time, didn't you?"

Bernice pushed her plate back and crossed her arms. "I'll tell you why. Dancing leads to all sorts of trouble. It makes a smart and strong girl like me forget who she is. It makes everything crazy, that's what it does." She glared at Phil. "I had to go to my aunt in Houston after I got pregnant with you. My parents were mortified."

Phil stared. "Are you saying you and Dad got married because I was on the way?"

"No, I'm not saying that." She looked cornered, but she went on firmly. "No one could have convinced me not to marry him. He was handsome and sweet and could sing like Elvis--better, really."

"But you said you were pregnant, Mom?" Dennis reached across the table and put his hand gently on her arm. "You were pregnant and your parents were mad...and then you had me...is that right?"

Bernice let our a long breath. "Yes. I was a good girl, but I was foolish. I thought I was in love. And then one night...well...then you were on the way and that's all there was to that."

She closed her eyes. "I didn't mean to tell y'all that. I guess I am tired."

Dee Anna was speechless. She looked from her mother, who sat with her eyes closed, looking very old, to her brother, Phil. Phil's face was expressionless, and then suddenly he smiled. He looked at Dee Anna. His smile grew wider. He began to laugh, and his laugh grew louder. Bernice looked up, shocked, "What are you laughing at?"

Phil threw his head back and laughed and laughed some more. Tears ran down his face.

"Is that it? Oh, Lord have mercy...!" And once again his laugh filled the kitchen. His mother and sister stared.

Outside, Ricky Rooster said, "Er er errrrrrrra!"

America's National day of Prayer

The 59th Annual National Day of Prayer is today. The theme for this year is “Prayer for Such a Time as This” -- a theme taken from Esther 4. Esther and her uncle, Mordecai, were living in a Babylonia province. Through a series of circumstances, the beautiful Esther had become queen. (You can read the dramatic details of the story in the short Bible book of Esther.) The story is remembered by Jewish people as Purim.

A plot was hatched that would have resulted in the destruction of the Jews of the province, but Mordecai enlists the aid of Esther the queen, challenging her with these words, Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, ‘Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this. Esther rose to the challenge, risked her life, and saved her people.’

Federal Judge Barbara Crabb (from Wisconsin) has stated that the National Day of Prayer is unconstitutional. The Obama administration has challenged her assertion. Groups around the country have held, or will hold observances, as in years past. Though the tradition was formalized in 1952, with a congressional resolution calling on the president to proclaim such a day, there were national days of prayer long before then.

Ken and I gathered at 7 a.m. today with about 50 people: townspeople, religious and political leaders. The atmosphere was marked by a sense of community, civility, humility, and concern for our nation.

Here are a few thoughts for those who might like to join in the observing the day.

First, an excerpt from Present Obama's proclamation, which acknowledges the religious diversity of the United States – within the universe of monotheism. “I call upon the citizens of our Nation to pray, or otherwise give thanks, in accordance with their own faiths and consciences, for our many freedoms and blessings, and I invite all people of faith to join me in asking for God’s continued guidance, grace, and protection as we meet the challenges before us,” the proclamation states.

My friend and pastor, Rev. Sharon York, read Psalm 27.

The Lord Is My Light and My Salvation
A Psalm Of David.

The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?

When evildoers assail me
to eat up my flesh,
my adversaries and foes,
it is they who stumble and fall.

Though an army encamp against me,
my heart shall not fear;
though war arise against me,
yet I will be confident.

One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in his temple.

For he will hide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;
he will lift me high upon a rock.

And now my head shall be lifted up
above my enemies all around me,
and I will offer in his tent
sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make melody to the Lord.

Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud;
be gracious to me and answer me!
You have said, “Seek my face.”
My heart says to you,
“Your face, Lord, do I seek.”

Hide not your face from me.
Turn not your servant away in anger,
O you who have been my help.
Cast me not off; forsake me not,
O God of my salvation!

For my father and my mother have forsaken me,
but the Lord will take me in.

Teach me your way, O Lord,
and lead me on a level path
because of my enemies.
Give me not up to the will of my adversaries;
for false witnesses have risen against me,
and they breathe out violence.

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living!
Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord.

We were encouraged to pray for

• our national, state and local leaders
• those in economic difficulty, and those without jobs
• our schools and educational system

Using the letters P.R.A.Y., here is a suggestion for prayer.

P Praise

Begin with praising God for our many blessings.

Psalm 100:3-5
Acknowledge that the Lord is God!
He made us, and we are his.
We are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving;
go into his courts with praise.
Give thanks to him and praise his name.
For the Lord is good.
His unfailing love continues forever,
and his faithfulness continues to each generation.

R Repent

On behalf of yourself and the nation, acknowledge failures, sins, injustice, etc.

Ezekiel 33:12
"... The righteous behavior of righteous people will not save them if they turn to sin, nor will the wicked behavior of wicked people destroy them if they repent and turn from their sins."

A Ask

Psalm 86:5
O Lord, you are so good, so ready to forgive,
so full of unfailing love for all who ask for your help.
Proverbs 2:2-4
Tune your ears to wisdom,
and concentrate on understanding.
Cry out for insight,
and ask for understanding.
Search for them as you would for silver;
seek them like hidden treasures.

There is, of course, much for which we could ask. Let's focus on wisdom.

Y Yield

Romans 6:13
Do not let any part of your body become an instrument of evil to serve sin. Instead, yield yourselves completely to God...use your whole body as an instrument to do what is right for the God's glory.

Prayer must be followed by action. Prayer is not merely a ritual to observe, it is an act of submission to God. Yielding ourselves to what is right is costly. Where might God be leading you? Are you willing to do the hard thing? Pray for yourself, but also that those in leadership positions of all kinds will have an attitude of humility and submission to the Almighty.

Thanks for taking a few moments out of your day to join me.

Pedophile Priests, the Roman Catholic Church and Other Christians

Reading this article, regarding then Cardinal Ratzinger's actions, or lack thereof, is chilling for a host of reasons. I'll let you draw your own conclusions as you read the article.

Perhaps, as is alleged, the process showed no evidence of a "cover up." Maybe so and maybe not, but at the very least, the entire agonizingly slow investigation reveals a shocking willingness to protect the "universal church" over protecting the bodies, souls and spirits of children. Add this to the numerous sordid stories of other areas of the country, the world, other cardinals and bishops, and the widespread disregard for innocent people makes me feel queasy. I am appalled, disgusted, and grieved. I am also deeply sad for the numerous Roman Catholics who feel betrayed by their church. And I am extremely glad that my own denomination, among others, handles these kinds of allegations very differently. Sadly, at least in my area, many deeply angry Catholics refuse to darken the door of a Catholic church but are unwilling to consider the possibility of attending another kind of Christian church. Contrary to Ratzinger's remarks, the "universal church" is not just Roman Catholics.

And on a different but related subject, see It's Not About Celibacy by Jesuit priest, James Martin. Many people have said to me something like, "Well, until they let priests get married they'll keep having this problem." I disagree.

Obviously, I do not believe that one must remain single in order to minister effectively. I think that celibacy could be an option for for certain Catholic religious orders. Those who feel called to priestly ministry but also want to have a family, like Protestants, could join different orders. An increasing number of Catholics seem to agree. But to equate celibacy with the kind of psychological disturbance, (and sin) that is involved with sexual abuse is disturbing. Do we believe that unmarried persons are more likely to commit rape? (If you do, you do not understand that rape is not simply a sexual act but a violent one.)

For that matter, isn't it time that we Protestant folks stop viewing single clergy as somehow suspect? Have we totally thrown out the Apostle Paul's remarks on this? There are advantages to a celibate life, and Rev. Martin enumerates them well in his article.

And last, lest we non-Catholic church folks be temped to secretly rejoice a bit at the troubles of others, remember that what affects one religious body in a community affects all the religious organizations around it. What affects one denomination will result in difficulty for all of us. Catholic clergy, most of whom want to serve people and are doing so under increasingly difficult circumstances, need our prayers. So do all those precious people who feel betrayed by their church leaders and those who suffered in silence or who, when they spoke up, were shamed, ignored, or marginalized in other ways. The damage is horrific and immeasurable.

Dr. P. Would Give Him a Million Bucks if He Could. Me too.

Update: Sorry about the broken link. I fixed it.

Thanks to D.P. for this info.

Take a look at this article. If we can't all support this poor family, then we are in sad shape indeed! Please donate if you can and/or spread the word.

I suspect Fred Phelps is in for a big shock one of these days... Lord, have mercy!

It is Finished

Ahem...don't mean to be sacrilegious.

If you have been on a journey with me during the days leading up to Easter Sunday, I appreciate the "company." I hope something blessed you in some way. I decided to blog every day mainly for myself, hoping to accomplish a couple of different things (and I did). I did miss, I think, three days. Not so bad! I hope to be a more consistent blogger going forward.

I enjoyed a wonderful Easter weekend, attending a community Good Friday service in the town where I work and now attend church, a nice day Saturday enjoying the unusual early spring warmth as we did some errands, shopped, and prepared food for Sunday. Then yesterday we attended Jubilee AG where I formerly was the pastor. B-I-L Kevin and daughter Kris' and family still go there. Kris (who will be an officially-recognized new Rev. later this month) shared a reflection on resurrection which was excellent. Then we dropped Trinity off with Uncle Kevin and the family went to prison for Easter services. Daryl read scripture, I preached, and Kris made me proud again with too wonderful dramatic presentations. Then home for egg hunting with Trinity (who was SO cute). She insisted on getting back into her new dress, and her glee at discovering the hidden eggs was as great as mine might be to discover hidden $100 bills. Then a nice dinner with the family, which doesn't happen all that often because of schedules.

I also made an important decision.

I hope you had a great weekend as well. Pastor Dee Anna will be back soon. And I'm pondering some things I'd like opinions about, but that will some of the 40 or so people who have been visiting lately will have to de lurk. Can you do it? Sure you can!

At the Foot of the Cross

From John 19

Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, said, “I thirst!” They filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on hyssop, and put it to His mouth. So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit.

Therefore, because it was the Preparation Day, that the bodies should not remain on the cross on the Sabbath (for that Sabbath was a high day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who was crucified with Him. But when they came to Jesus and saw that He was already dead, they did not break His legs. But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out.

And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe. For these things were done that the Scripture should be fulfilled, “Not one of His bones shall be broken.” And again another Scripture says, “They shall look on Him whom they pierced.”

After this, Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus; and Pilate gave him permission. So he came and took the body of Jesus. And Nicodemus, who at first came to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds. Then they took the body of Jesus, and bound it in strips of linen with the spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. So there they laid Jesus, because of the Jews’ Preparation Day, for the tomb was nearby.

Thank you Reverend Mommy, for this beautiful poem.

I Stand at the Foot of the Cross

It is Friday

It is Friday

And I stand at the foot of the cross.

Nothing can be said,

nothing can be done.

Action is futile – hebel.

I can hold the other's hands and weep,

but I cannot be comforted.

It is Friday

And I stand at the foot of the cross.

The air is heavy still with waiting and longing.

Waiting for the inevitable, longing for the impossible.

Can this cup pass from me?

I look around me –

all the colors are muted.

Dusty browns and grays –

Cold and metallic.

Rolling black clouds

cover the brilliant blue of the sky

As my soul is occluded by pain.

All that remains is the red of the blood

Running down the weathered wood of the cross.

It is Friday

And I stand at the foot of the cross.

I reach out and touch the raised grain of the wood.

It is rough against my fingertips.

The pong of unwashed wool and bodies crowds my nose.

I smell fear, pain, death.

I taste it at the back of my throat.

I hear the labored breathing from the cross.

Death is near.

It is Friday

And I stand at the foot of the cross.

Remember Him!

Remember Him

as the silver cord is severed,

as the golden bowl is broken.

Remember Him

as the pitcher is shattered at the spring

and the wheel broken at the well.

Remember Him

as the dust returns to the ground it came from and

His spirit returns to the God who gave it.

It is Friday

And I stand at the foot of the cross.

I pray each of you has a "Good Friday" that is indeed good--good with an awareness of what Jesus has done because of love. As we enter into a time of waiting, may our identification with him in the hour of suffering and death make our coming celebrations all the more beautiful and joyous.

The Cup of Blessing

Today is the day some of us attend services that include sharing in communion. This year I will be attending a Passover meal, but when I return home I will prepare the bread and cup for myself, and I will light a candle, spend some time in prayer and meditation of scripture and "share" the body and blood of the Lord with any of you who might join me, at least in cyberspace, in a few moments of contemplation. So when you have some time, I invite you to go find a small glass and some wine or grape juice and a piece of bread. Light a candle if you like. As I do this I will be praying for you. Ready?

We do not have to talk very much in order to pray well. We know that God is there in His holy tabernacle; let us open our hearts to Him; let us rejoice in His Presence: This is the best prayer.

-- St. John Vianney

Dear God,
Holy is your name! We thank you for sending your Son to be our Saviour. We offer our praise with gratitude in our thoughts for all the glorious things you have created, and the wonderful things you have done. Thank you for bringing us to this night in our lives, for times you have sustained us, healed us, restored us, and blessed us. We rejoice that we are invited to be in your presence. Amen

Spend a few moments in silence as you invite the Holy Spirit to join us.

1 Corinthians 10:14-17
Therefore, my dear friends, flee from the worship of idols. I speak as to sensible people; judge for yourselves what I say. The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.

As I read these scriptures earlier today the words that stood out to me were "the cup of blessing." Some of us from the free church tradition can learn from Catholics and mainline Protestants about reverence and significance as we approach the Lord's table. Are these itmes symbolic? I believe so, but to make them merely symbols is to disregard what the Apostle Paul calls, "blessing." Yes, doctrinal stances and traditions differ about just what the elements of communion are to us, but it is clear from the passage that at the very least we are sharing these things as a reminder not only of what our Lord accomplished for us but also a reminder of our shared community, our shared salvation, our shared redemption, our shared hope, faith and love, given to us by the one who died on Calvary. Let's give God permission to meet us in whatever way is best at this moment, and to bless us with the bread and cup in whatever way God wills to do.

I suggest you enlarge the video to full-screen mode.



Luke 22:19-21
And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.”

Eat the bread, remembering Jesus as you do so.

Likewise He also took the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you.

Take the cup, remembering Jesus as you do so.

Jesus, Lamb of God, I pray for those who are sharing in the body broken for us and in the blood shed for us. I ask for wisdom as they face challenges and opportunities, courage as they walk in this dark world as a child of Light, comfort as they mourn losses and disappointments, healing for those who are ill in mind, body or spirit. I ask for mended relationships, renewed hope, strengthened faith, and a new awareness of your divine love. May we sene your presence as we move through these next days, aware of how great is your love for us. Amen