Category Archives: Christianity

Crying Fowl

Rooster

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seemed to make you jump?  My wife had one of those times a few nights ago.

Her “Trilogy of Terror” began when she was looking for me in the house which was getting a little dark since it was early evening and we hadn’t yet turned on lights.  I heard her calling my name but I remained silent as my juvenile side took over and I waited until she stood in the dark hallway.  I flung my jacket out of the bedroom and into the hallway; the “cloak of death” hurled itself toward Jenny and she let out a scream, stammering back as if she would surely faint.  I was completely prepared for a beating from that one.

The second small scare occurred when we were lying in bed, watching some TV when all of a sudden Jenny looked up and screamed “SPIDER”!!  It turned out to be a large mosquito which I quickly squashed with a tissue.  The “Peace de la Resistance” occurred as we were preparing for bed.

As a general routine, I take the dog out for one last elimination thus eliminating the middle of the night whines.  On this particular night, we were receiving torrential downpours.  I let Izzy have a moment of solitude as I stood in the doorway with my back to the door and the Christmas wreath hanging from it.  I had on my hooded robe as I normally do.  After Izzy returned, I closed up shop, headed up the stairs and waltzed in the bedroom.  About that time, I felt air on my neck, heard a “whoosh” sound and saw a dark form swoop over my head and land on one of the pictures on the other side of the room.  Jenny let out a blood curdling scream and dove under the covers.  A Carolina house wren had evidently been in the wreath to escape the deluge, jumped in to the hood of my robe and hitchhiked his way into the house.  The bird was staring down his very long, sharp beak at me with small beady eyes and I just knew he wanted to peck my eyes out!

Jenny and I developed a strategic game plan on how to isolate our feathered friend so we could catch and free the little pooper.  Armed with a long nylon feather duster and bath towel, we closed the doors to all the other rooms which left the kitchen and living room exposed.  The little flyer flew into the kitchen and up on the cabinet ledge; he must have thought he was in an aviary version of little shop of horrors as positioned on every cabinet ledge were Jenny’s still life Hens & Roosters she had collected over the years.  The pointy beaked wonder flew back and forth between and on top of the variety of ledge fowl; meanwhile, Jenny followed suit with feather duster in hand trying to corral the feathered beast. We orchestrated our bright idea of turning out every light except for the one at the back door.  After several minutes of failed attempts to lure him to safety, a combination of a samurai duster, matador cape bath towel and ultimate fatigue on the part of the bird finally brought him down to the floor by the back door.  I urged him on out with the towel and that was that.

All the while we were working to free our uninvited guest back to the great outdoors, it struck me how we just wanted him safe and uninjured, back to where he belonged.  God must feel that way with us at times when we flit about from here to there, wanting to do our own thing when all He wants is for us to be safe under His guidance and protection.  As Psalm 91:4 NIV puts it, “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”  So often, we just don’t get it.  Our selfish nature screams out for the “freedom” WE deserve and when God tries to guide us or chastise us for the greater good, we cry foul!   Unfortunately, all along we are like that bird, flying back and forth from one ledge (vice, habit, sin) to another, trapped by our own distorted sense of freedom.  If we could just stop for once, rest, take a breath and allow our Heavenly Father to pick us up and release us into His perfect will where we would be totally free indeed…

Coincidentally, after all the ruckus was over and the bird was safe, we still had to clean up all the mess he left behind including bird droppings and small feathers everywhere.  But we could still hold on to the satisfaction that one of God’s creatures was still safe and able to once again fly free.

Matthew 6:26 ESV  “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not of more value than they?”

Being Thankful

ThanksgivingKnow that the LORD Himself is God; It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves; We are His people and the sheep of His pasture. Enter His gates with thanksgiving And His courts with praise. Give thanks to Him, bless His name. For the LORD is good; His lovingkindness is everlasting And His faithfulness to all generations.  Psalm 100:3-5 NIV

It’s that time again…the doldrums days when the brilliant vibrant colors of autumn have been replaced by the brown/gray hue of late fall.  It is the time when there is not only frost on the pumpkin but the pumpkin is sagging and rotting from decay.  This is also a season of ultimate confusion as you hear a cacophony of Christmas jingles and carols on the air waves and cable before anyone can even gather to gather in a spirit of Thanksgiving.  And in the middle of this precursor mix of holiday turmoil sits my birthday ready and anxious to scream in my ear yet once again “hey, Buddy, you are getting older”!

As if it couldn’t get any more rich, I just happen to share my birthday with the remembrance of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.  I remember it was my sixth birthday and mom was having a very difficult time preparing my birthday cake.  I knew something pretty ominous had just occurred but in my very infantile six year old mind I was thinking, “Uh, hello?  Birthday boy here…remember me…uh, can’t have a celebration without a cake…hello?  Hey, you can’t be crying on MY day…Hello?”

And so the news worthy reminder of a tragedy to our country and to our nation’s innocence, of a lost Camelot was ceremoniously delivered year after year by the talking heads of the times.  Fifty-two years later, there may be a blurb on the web concerning the event but it has all but been tucked away in the annals of history.  For indeed, time eventually heals all wounds and the pain and guilt associated with any horrific event is ultimately numbed and silenced by the passing of time.  Fortunately, I have matured over the years and what was once a ghost or shadow haunting “my day” each year, has turned into a reminder of thankfulness.

  • I am first of all thankful for this journey God has placed before me and am excited for each day I have to walk along the paths He has laid out for me.
  • I am thankful for God granting me the privilege of living in this great world of ours for the past fifty-eight years; I’ll take ”seasoned” over “deceased” any day…
  • I am thankful for my family around me and the opportunity to positively influence the young life of our granddaughter as she grows and matures.
  • I am thankful to have been raised in a home that displayed not only an undying love for each family member but also taught the importance of knowing there were circumstances much bigger and at times more significant than our own wants or needs.
  • I am thankful for our freedoms in this great country of ours and try not to take any of them for granted.

I could go on and on about being thankful but here is something we must be reminded; we must always be in a spirit of thanksgiving all year through, not just during one day on the calendar.  We must thank God for everything He provides for us in the everyday, workaday world we live in, whether it be something big or insignificant. For God deserves our praise in all things, not just the extraordinary.

So I encourage anyone reading this to please take the time, examine your heart and find those pearls of life events and God given life opportunities to be thankful for today and every day throughout the year, not just the season of “We Gather to Gather to Jingle All the Way in the Auld Lang Syne”.  As for me, this six-year- old times ten shy two is going to continue to praise God for His goodness and enjoy the big slice of life He has handed me…along with a big slice of birthday cake as well…compliments of my wife!!

Serpent in the Mount—A tine tingling tale…

Jackolanterns2

It’s that time again; time for the ghosts and ghouls of another Halloween to make their annual appearance.  And while my wife and I aren’t really into the spookiness of Halloween and pretty much stick to the autumn aspects of pumpkins and mums, we still get the childlike joy of driving around looking at the ”haunted” decorations and of course, being awed by the little beggars, dressed to impress…or distress.  I have never been one to race to the front of the line so I could be publicly humiliated in the local house of horrors either;  screaming like a little girl while being stroked by a synthetic hand is not my idea of a good time.  I find real life scary enough sometimes and thus, my account of a rather frightening experience just a few days ago reflected below…

My son-in-law and I decided to take on a joint venture and purchased an old rototiller, offered to Justin by a co-worker.  Justin brought home the mechanical prize and it was immediately evident it needed a little work.  We stored the metal toothed wonder on the outside of my garage and one day I got adventuresome, deciding to put a little gas in the machine and give the cord a good pull to see if it would breathe life again.  It didn’t take long until I found it was indeed hemorrhaging fuel so I decided to catch the escaping liquid and give my shoulder a rest.  Justin later took a long look at it and decided it needed several gaskets and other parts in order to resuscitate our “find”.

Fast forward to a few days ago; Justin had taken the tiller to another area for storage until the parts had arrived for the gasket transplant.  On Saturday, Justin proceeded to rebuild the carburetor and remove the gas tank for cleaning.  I walked over just as he was making final adjustments.  After all was in order, Justin tweaked the choke, gave the rope one good pull and the tiller sprang to life.  We smiled, gave mental “high fives” and was standing there admiring the purr from the engine when Justin suddenly became a little more animated, jumping back exclaiming “WHOAA”!

I quickly looked down at the back of the tiller just in time to watch an eighteen inch baby copperhead crawl out of the drive belt area of the motor mount and proceeded to drop down on to the pavement below,  slithering around, trying to find a safe exit into the grass.  I am standing three feet away, suddenly feeling quite exposed as I am dressed in my “business hippie” style of button down shirt, jean shorts and bare feet; my phalanges seemed especially naked to this juvenile reptile.  This surreal “oh crap” moment, full of fright, wonderment, shock, and disbelief was over in a second.  Justin steered “junior” back on to the pavement where he planted his size ten boot upon the venomous infant’s head and half of its’ body.

So what is scaring you these days?  Could it be the world around us with its’ uncertainties relating to the economy, governmental corruption, climate changes or a myriad of other headlines reflected in several different languages, currently lining the bottom of bird cages around the world?  Perhaps you are personally dealing with a chronic illness or disease OR the big “C” (cancer) has come to haunt your household.  Whatever your fright fight might be, I want you to know there is One who knows you intimately and is right alongside you during these scary times of life.  2 Corinthians 1:3-5 says, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.  For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ”.  God knows our every need and can soothe our every fear; we just need to give it to Him and let God work everything out for His good.

God even knows my innate fear of snakes.  And while Justin and I are still wondering where the rest of Junior’s family resides, I have to resign myself to the fact that scary things do happen in the every day and I need to trust God to both protect me and give me the wisdom to know what to do in the frightful situation.  Prayer is a great start; wearing shoes and looking down at the grass more while walking through the yard might not be a bad idea either…

Well, that’s not FAIR!!

surprised smiley

As I was growing up, our family never really had a whole lot of material things to hold on to.   In fact, my youngest sister and I still joke about being so poor, all we had were catfish heads to play with instead of toys.   But what we did have made all the difference in shaping our lives to adulthood.  We had food on the table, we were clean, we wore clean clothes even though they were seldom brand new, and we had love in our home.  We learned how to count and perform basic math in our heads by playing dominoes.  We were taught respect, how to use our common sense, and the necessity to implement the common courtesies we learned along the way.  I’ll never forget one of those “lessons learned”.

One day when I was just a boy, my mom and I were walking down the sidewalk in our small town, running errands.  I was walking to mom’s left side and she quickly corrected me by urging my slight frame to her other side.  I looked at her a little puzzled and she saw the question on my face.  “Men and boys are ALWAYS supposed to walk on the outside of the female, closest to the street” she responded with a matter of fact persona that begged the question “why”?  Mom’s response was enough to send me into a tailspin.  “Well, because if a car swerved toward the sidewalk, it would hit the male first as protector, protecting the fairer sex.”  “Well, that’s not fair!!”, I screamed inside my mind as I had mental images of being sprawled out in the middle of the street, teeth littered around my body as the maiden in distress stood over my lifeless form, hands clasped together and pressed to one of her cheeks declaring, “my HERO!”

It took me more than a few years to completely understand what Mom was trying to teach me in that moment.  You see, we all have the grave responsibility to be more than what we are; to step out of ourselves, our comfort zones, and to be made available to meet other’s needs; even up to and including death.  What parent wouldn’t think twice about running into a burning home to rescue their children but what about your special needs neighbor?  What about the stranger you see every day walking to work because they can’t afford a means to get from point A to point B?

The news this past couple of weeks has been full of unsung heroes doing what they did not because of a possible fifteen minutes of fame or a handshake and “atta boy” from our POTUS but because it was the right thing to do.  Whether it was the hero who would rather take seven bullets from a madman than to fathom another life lost or the stranger in South Carolina who went from door to door in his boat, trying to save anyone in need instead of thinking about his own loss of property, there are true heroes out there but there needs to be more.

Here is another example.  Jesus Christ was sent here from His home to dwell among strangers and haters, not because He enjoyed deprecation but because it was the right thing to do; not only was He being obedient to His Father but He loved/loves us with a fierce love we cannot comprehend.  Jesus had the ultimate reason to cry out “well, that’s not Fair!!” as He hung from that cross, completely broken and humiliated, bleeding and aching from the weight of OUR sin.  Perfect love conquered His own need for preservation as a man on this earth so we wouldn’t have to suffer an eternal separation from the One who made us, our heavenly Father.

What about you and me?  Isn’t it time we turn away from the deceptive mirror of self we have been staring in to far too long and instead, peer out the window of our safe, selfish little cocoon to a world full of need.  And even though we can’t save the whole world, why don’t we just start with the world around us; our city, our neighborhood, our own home.  Pray for the courage to be THAT person who makes a difference, that man or woman who is brave enough to put away the “Me-Me’s” and embrace the unique needs of others.

As for the lesson learned so long ago, I still irritate the people around me, stepping forward to open the door for a lady, whether they be nine or ninety or to walk on the outside, closest to the street.  You see, the common courtesies have been engrained in my very being along with another sentiment; sometimes life isn’t fair…but life is a privilege and passes too soon so we have to make the most of every opportunity to serve those around us.

John 15:12-15 (NIV)– My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.  You are my friends if you do what I command.  I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.

Imitators

Over the edge 2

Our granddaughter is almost eight months old now and is beginning to imitate other’s actions such as waving bye and attempting to move her finger up and down across her lips while making noises; she prefers her entire fist though, resulting in a saliva fest.  It seems our entire life is spent either following someone else’s example or being a role model for someone else to follow.

I remember growing up during my influential years in the 1960’s and 70’s where everyone seemed to be expressing one’s self in different ways.  Smoking was one of those things taken for granted and a lot of my family participated in this freedom to inhale toxic fumes.

Living in the country afforded a few freedoms as well.  For instance, the freedom to burn trash in the open air.  Being the imitator as a kid but without having the means to try smoking with an actual cigarette, I found some dry hollow reeds down along the creek bank by the square brick burning pit while I was burning trash one day.  The gray-white fibers of the reeds resembled the white paper of the cancer stick.  I decided I wanted to look and act as cool as my older siblings so I broke off a four inch section of the reed and put the tip of the “cigarette” in the flames until the end glowed red from the embers.  I put the imitation cigarette to my mouth like I had seen others do many times before and inhaled.

What happened next was nothing less than life changing.  Small flames entered my throat along with smoky air, singeing my esophagus in the process.  My eyes grew wide from the pain as well as the smoky pungent smell of burning reed racing down my lungs. I involuntarily coughed uncontrollably, the blackish gray smoke bellowing out as if more anxious to rise to the surface than I was to get it out so I could breathe again.  I stood there, continuing to cough violently as well as mentally kicking myself across the yard.  I desperately glanced in all directions to see if anyone else had witnessed the blatant stupidity of a young boy trying to imitate the foolishness of others.

Fast forward more than a couple of decades and I find myself once again in the present, hopefully much more wiser and aware of the consequences of imitating others or following someone’s example without first analyzing and reasoning out their intentions and possible negative outcomes.  However, I am greatly concerned and have been for some time that it seems many blindly follow and imitate the latest trends, fads, popular people in the spotlight, and yes, even governmental politics bent toward entitlement and socialism without first stepping back for even a split second to think of the eventual consequences of said blind following.

Don’t you think it is past time to be the responsible, accountable “grown-ups” we are supposed to be and pray to again become the examples of those growing up around us?  And before you judge me for seemingly being such a self-righteous hypocrite, brandishing my pistol of one-sided opinions, may I remind you that I only write what is on my heart that God is also speaking to me; I’m certainly aware of my own shortcomings—and I need help.

Ephesians 5:1-2(ESV) reads, “Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children.  And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” What an awesome reminder of whom we should imitate constantly in thought, word, and deed so we have a chance to be that example others are looking for to follow.  And now that I find myself in the position of tribal elder in our little family nucleus, I am once again reminded of the grave responsibility we have as humans to impress upon our next generation not only the common courtesies and manners of life, the do’s and don’ts that separate the civilized from the savages but especially the eternal.  For it is only through the grace of God that we are still here, breathing on this earth and it is only by His mercy through His son Jesus Christ that we have a hope for a future far better than our present circumstances.

The next time you see a child doing something they shouldn’t, even to the point of foolishly ingesting noxious fumes from a weed, fight the inner adult child within that wants to sit back and see what happens so you can be entertained, and use this as a time of instruction, of lovingly guiding that student on to a better path of wisdom and understanding.   And remember, those eyes are on you whether you want them to be or not, imitating your every move; make the most of it.

Proverbs 14:12 (ESV)—There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.

Lost in Translation

ILoveNY

Sometimes in life, we are misunderstood for whatever reason and the results can be disastrous…or hilarious.  Even the best intentions can be misconstrued and the end game can often times mean an unintended conflict.  We are so caught up in the day to day distractions, especially the invasive home invader called the cell phone, that often times we only hear half of a question asked or the conversation going on around you.  Some folks get quite offended when your response is somewhat different from what was expected because we just didn’t listen.

Unfortunately, this is familiar grounds for me these days.  I am completely deaf in my right ear due to an unwanted nemesis called Meniere’s Disease.  At times, depending on the noise level around me, I need to watch someone’s lips when they talk to aid in “hearing” what they are saying.  I DO want to know what they are trying to communicate or convey, so many times I have to ask the person to please repeat part or all of the question or conversation.  For instance, someone might say, “Have a good day” and I might hear and interpret, “I need a dozen eggs”…yep I know, it can be amusing to hear a response to a phrase lost in translation.

Recently, my wife and I experienced another type of miscommunication.  Jenny’s birthday was coming up and I wanted to get her something special to commemorate our move to North Carolina.  I jumped on Amazon and perused the possibilities and landed on a T-shirt that read, “I Love (it was actually a heart) North Carolina.  Her favorite color is purple so I ordered the T-shirt in the appropriate size and color, and took in account the lead time of two weeks to receive the precious surprise gift.

Periodically, I would go out to check on the progress of the shipment, and it always reflected the same “in transit” response.  I waited through the two week time frame and still no package OR any way to communicate to the company to inquire about shipment.  A couple of days later, the package was finally delivered.  I pulled the garment out of the plastic shipment bag and held it up for examination.  The T-shirt was two sizes smaller than ordered even though the tag reflected the appropriate size.  The white lettering bled into the purple background and now appeared a muddy gray.  Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

I began the arbitration process with the Chinese manufacturer, explained what we had actually received and communicated our displeasure with the product.  Their response was a lack of ownership and it was evident we were going nowhere fast.  The litany of e-mails back and forth went on for a week before I contacted Amazon concerning the situation and received a full refund within 24 hours.

Three days after the resolution by Amazon, I received another e-mail from the company reflected below, as copied directly from the e-mail: (It’s better to read this mentally using an Asian accent) “Dear buyer,   We are afraid that you are a little misunderstand us. We have figured out the problem,and we can resend you a new one. Of course ,this time you do not have to repay again. And we promise the image printed on the shirt will be better. To be frank ,our company is a new one,and we tried our best to improve the quality. Now the printed technology is much better than before. Hope you can reconsider it. Thank you so much!”

I relented and sent an approval response along with a suggestion that they send the product two sizes larger than requested earlier.  Six weeks later, we received another plastic shipping envelope from China with another purple T-shirt tucked inside.  When Jenny pulled out the fabric “treasure”, it was two sizes smaller than the one originally sent with the caption “I Love NY” emblazoned across the chest along with a silhouette of the Statue of Liberty and other snippets of the New York skyline.  Who doesn’t want or need an “I LOVE NY” shirt, right?  We both stared at each other and burst out laughing as we pondered whether to find a very petite lover of purple who just happened to have a desire to tour New York or just keep it back for our granddaughter as a sleep shirt.  Something was definitely lost in translation…

Sometimes I have a problem understanding the will of God and where He is leading me; it almost feels like I’m almost spiritually deaf; I just don’t seem to have an understanding or appreciation for where God has taken me so far or that He IS continuing to lead me on toward His will.  Proverbs 2:2-5 (ESV) states,  Making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding; yes, if you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God.  That gives me comfort as I continue praying for that understanding.  I definitely don’t want my spiritual life to be “lost in translation”.

I’m still waiting for an e-mail back from the manufacturer asking if we are satisfied with the awesome new replacement but I’m sure if they were to ask for a picture of their “improved quality product”, someone in China would have a face as red as the heart on that “special” shirt.  This is just a simple reminder that we are ALL fallible human beings.  Even those living on the other side of the world…

Transplants—Cultivating the Best from Change

wilted

My wife and I are weekend garden warriors who like to piddle in the yard whenever we get the chance. Our new home is basically a blank slate on the outside and I’m sure we will have red clay up to our elbows in no time. But it seems no matter how long we have been gardeners, there appears to be a mystery surrounding the act of transplanting.

Depending on the flora species, most plants get a little touchy about having their root system manhandled.  Many times, they tend to be perfectly happy in their root bound state and transplanting that plant to a new, different, larger home may result in a temporary sagging of leaves and pretty much a visually sad state. You see, the plant needs time to scope out the new soil, stretch out its roots in the larger expanse, and nibble on the new aromatic fertilizer but temporarily as a result, some of the leaves may get droopy and yellowed and the whole plant may seem depressed. It doesn’t understand that in the long run, this change is necessary for its very survival.

My wife and I have been experiencing some droopiness of our own. For you see, our physical move has been very much like that displaced vegetation. And even though we DO know long term it will be very beneficial for us, the adjustments to the physical surroundings, culture, and lifestyle are sometimes pretty overwhelming. “What do you mean you don’t have a Gold Star Chili or donut shops down here?” But we both know who the master potter is and that He will give us exactly what we need, when we need it so we can continue to grow and bloom for Him. However, the fertilizer, the spiritual nourishment we most desperately need to grow bigger and better than ever before is yet to be determined; we need a church home.

Whether you are a believer in Christ or not, attempting to integrate or graft one’s self into the right living organism called the local church is as important as finding the right sized pot and proper fertilizer for a houseplant and the very act of finding a church home is not a small feat. You cannot force yourself in to just any environment and expect to grow spiritually. Many times due to traditions (we have always done it this way), infighting, or just a simple lack of vision, a church body can become stagnant and unhealthy. Maybe in those circumstances, a little weeding needs to be done. And on the other end of the spectrum, a growing, vibrant church can be just too “busy” to cultivate and nurture the souls of new converts or those looking for a church; they may have a “live long and prosper, now scoot!!” or “danger, stranger!” mentality that leaves the individual wondering what just happened. Yep, sometimes even a healthy church “plant” becomes too large and needs to be separated and replanted from the main plant to remain healthy.

We have confidence that God, our master Gardener, has the perfect spiritual “garden” in mind and that He will plant us among other believers in His time, all different but yet the same, to grow and prosper for His glory and purpose. And even though the act of being transplanted to a new “pot” can be more than a little stressful and yes, painful at times, we can cultivate the best from change and grow to appreciate its’ abundant rewards.

But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.  2 Peter 3:18 ESV

For just as we have many members in one body and all the members do not have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.  Romans12:4-5 NASB

 

Pacing in the Waiting Room—Part Deux

…the rest of the story

hash marks

Before you go any further, if you haven’t read Part I of this story, please retreat to that earlier post.  If you have read the first part, you might be interested in how our story has played out this summer.  You may even be interested in re-reading the first post to refresh your memory…truth be told, I had to…

Part I basically ended with getting an offer on our house in Ohio.  That was definitely an answered prayer but we were suddenly presented with the “Oh no, what we gonna do now” question as we basically had forty-five days before we had to move out of our house and into what and where?  Even that was a real answer to prayer as it commonly is a thirty day turn around to close on a property but the buyer asked for extra time due to going through the VA for a loan.  As I had time off saved up, I quickly called my daughter and asked if I could crash at their place for a few days so I could look for homes and a job.

Having updated resumes and reference sheets in hand as well as a fresh suit and shirts, I headed south to North Carolina to pursue living accommodations and a new IT position somewhere while my wife kept the home fires burning up north.

My wife and I had been looking on the web for homes and had several listed that we were interested in and it wasn’t difficult to schedule showings on these homes.  With iPhone in hand so I could Facetime my wife and integrate her in a “virtual” tour of the candidate homes, I followed the surrogate realtor from one property to another.  After seven showings of prospective properties within our budget, we came up short, not one property meeting our needs.  Needless to say, we were bummed.

Since I had worked in healthcare related Information Technology for almost thirty-four years, I hit the area hospitals and soon found out that all applications needed to be completed online.  After leaving the last job prospect feeling completely rejected and defeated, I meandered back to my car, wondering if this was really God’s will that we make this drastic change in our lives.  I turned the car on and started down the hilly streets of Morganton headed toward the interstate.  I had recently purchased a new CD from Danny Gokey and it was playing in the background.  As I headed on to the interstate, the third song from the CD was playing and my complete attention was drawn toward the words highlighted below.

“Tell Your Heart To Beat Again”

Written by Matthew West, Bernie Herms

Broken like you’ve never been before
The life you knew in a thousand pieces on the floor
Words fall short in times like these
When this world drives you to your knees
You think you’re never going to get back to the you you used to be.

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away, step into the light of grace
Yesterdays a closing door you don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
Tell your heart to beat again

Beginning just let that word wash over you
It’s alright now, love’s healing hands will pull you through
So take one step, look back up
See the rise and feel the sun
Because your stories far from over and your journey’s just begun

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away, step into the light of grace
Yesterdays a closing door you don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
Tell your heart to beat again

Let every heartbreak and every scar
Be a picture to remind you, who has carried you this far
‘Cause love sees farther than you ever could
This moment He is working everything out for your good

Tell your heart to beat again
Close your eyes and breathe it in
Let the shadows fall away, step into the light of grace
Yesterdays a closing door you don’t live there anymore
Say goodbye to where you’ve been
Tell your heart to beat again

With every fiber of my being, I knew God was speaking to me through these revealing lyrics.  I was now an official “distracted driver” as I was praying and thanking God for His goodness and guidance.

Unbeknownst to me, my daughter and son-in-law had talked to his next door neighbor about selling our home so quickly.  The neighbor’s response was, “you know, we are currently building a house on other acreage and had planned to move out of our house so we could prepare ours for market.  Do you think your in-laws would be interested in looking at our house?”  On the last night before I was to return to Ohio, my son-in-law and I toured their home, iPhone in hand so my wife could tour as well.  My heart leapt as I wandered through the rooms and garage.  Later my wife told me I was moving around so fast, she could hardly see anything!!  Once the tour had concluded, I asked the homeowner what the asking price was  for the home. His response sent me into shock as Justin and I just stared at one another; as it turns out, his asking price was below appraised value!!  You see, the house was PERFECT for the two of us and right beside of our daughter and her family!

I returned to Ohio on that next day which was on a Wednesday and my wife and I returned to North Carolina two days later.  My wife was able to tour the house in person and after giving the nod to purchase the house, we went about securing the loan from the local Credit Union and met with the attorney that would handle the contract.  We flew through the inspections and on June 11th, we moved out of our home of almost seventeen years.  The next day, on the morning of the 12th, we closed on that house and immediately hit the road for North Carolina where we met our movers on the 13th to move in to our new home.  On the 15th of June, we closed on our new home and were able to pay off our two year old car loan as well.

And now here we are in September.  I went back for my last week of employment which ended on June 26th.  We are now a one income family for now and are doing just fine.  My wife and I decided it be best if I began the employment search after our vacation in October.  I no longer have the sense of urgency for a high salary/high stress career; rather, I have a peace that God is truly in control of our lives and we were redirected to this area not just to be with our daughter and family but for another purpose, a holy purpose, yet to be revealed.

Perfect Imperfections

Stone Faced

I have a little confession to make…I’m a left-handed, Appalachian, perfectionist.  And while you might have mental images of a barefoot southpaw, the last confession item has been a real pain in my life for most of my life.  I want everything right in its place; symmetrical—perfect.  But then reality hits; we are not perfect—not even close in thought, word or deed.

I am quite aware of my own imperfections.  Some mornings, I stagger into the bathroom, gaze into the honesty mirror and utter a silent “Oh Lord, what are we going to do with”that” today?”  I am way too aware that I resemble more of a peach pit than Brad Pitt.  The years have successfully tap danced a fast paced number across my body.  Nature has a nasty sense of humor and it seems she is currently laughing hysterically.  How else can I explain having both gray hair AND acne at the same time?  My teeth have shifted around as if they are aligned on some active fault line.  My joints are starting to crack so much that when I stand up our dog jumps and scampers away…

I have tried to remedy some of these physical imperfections in the past.  One year, a day before our trip to Disney World, I decided to go with a more youthful look and had my hair and goatee dyed.  The stylist made a drastic mistake with the hair color and I walked out looking like Juan Valdez!  I was more than embarrassed as we walked through the Magic Kingdom donning my new black pelt; even the Hispanics were pointing and laughing…could it have been because my light brown Andy Rooney brows were sticking out like a sore thumb?  I have since embraced the gray—at least I still have hair…and as another side benefit, I occasionally get an accidental senior discount!

As the old adage states, “Nobody’s perfect” and what a true statement that is! However, sometimes we use that very statement as an excuse to not do the very thing God is urging us to do.  The Bible is chock full of examples where imperfect people were being used by God for His purpose.  Moses had a speech impediment, David had a thing for bathing beauties, and even Saul/Paul had a self-righteous indignation toward Christians to the point of persecution.  2 Corinthians 12:9 (NASB) reads–And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.  Another words, we need to accept our frailties, our imperfections, our weaknesses and allow God to use these fallible traits for His purpose and glory.  But as a caveat, just know that when you decide to say “yes” and follow whatever God would have you do, you will never be the same.  For God does not want to leave us “Just As I Am” , rather He wants us to be more Christ-like.  Philippians 1:6 (NASB) reads, For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. 

So tell me, isn’t it time you took a good look in your own internal honesty mirror?  What personal imperfections or weaknesses has God wanted to use of yours that would be perfect for His purpose?  Truth be told, God wants your entire package of perfect imperfections…and mine.  And as for my perfectionism, God and I are still working on it.  I have not mastered it completely which my wife can attest as I follow behind her during cleaning and straighten up all the pictures on the walls…

Living the Trashy Life

dumpster

There is an unofficial sport known worldwide but yet goes pretty much completely unnoticed. These pseudo athletes do not appear on cereal boxes nor do they get pricey endorsements. You can normally see these “thrill seekers” meandering around neighborhoods near college campuses in late summer to early fall but they can be found anywhere at any time. Who is this elite group of daring individuals you might ask? Dumpster divers…

For some of you, this term brings on a snicker and an involuntary head shake but for others, well, they are feeling their face grow warm as the emotion of embarrassment overtakes them. These “divers” cross over socioeconomic lines and you may be surprised who around you has taken “the plunge” one time or another.

Ok, and now for the true confession….been there, done that. It was circa 1980 and my wife and I were about as poor as our government leader’s morals. We were living in Franklin House apartments just around the building from our complex’ dumpster. One day coming home from work, I spied an exercise bike sitting beside of the grime laden dumpster. I debated for a while and decided to investigate further, eyeing the primitive pedaling apparatus up and down with a critical eye. Not finding anything wrong with the piece of equipment, I looked all around me for prying eyes, picked up the bike, and cantered off to our apartment like a dog with a new bone in its’ mouth.

I beamed with pride as I showed my new bride the find of the decade. She returned my look with a suspicious glare. I mounted my mechanical steed and started pedaling, my upper body lunging back and forth in rhythmic procession. Suddenly my rhythm was disrupted by a crack of metal and my body being hurled toward the now exposed post of the defunct exercise bike; I narrowly missed impaling my at the time, slight, terrified frame on the “pedals of death”. My thrill was replaced with humiliation as I sheepishly picked up the now evident piece of garbage and retraced my steps back to its’ rightful owner, the lowly dumpster.

There is another type of dumpster diving that is far more destructive which I dare say is one of an unforgiving heart.   I think at times, we all have been guilty of holding a grudge or carrying a hurt left by another. And how many times have we heard the name of the person who committed the offense only to trigger something inside that entices us to dive into the deepest recesses of our minds to the dumpster of unforgiveness. Once there, you plunge in to the deep bin of bitterness laden with the stench of resentment, scrambling to find that one rotting memory so you can once again experience the painful sting of the event. Once relived, you carefully place the decaying memory exactly where you found it so you can easily retrieve it later; feeling justified in your righteous indignation and condemnation of the offender, you once again snap back into reality. When will we realize that we cannot inflict harm upon the ghosts of the past; we are only hemorrhaging our souls. Only our forgiveness of others can neutralize the pain of those excruciating memories and only Jesus can sterilize our hearts and place our hurts in the proper perspective of being healed memories and lessons learned.

And unlike my botched attempt at turning trash to treasure, there are many who have successfully found the unwanted, underappreciated waste of humanity and have turned the items into something beautiful and useful again. Hhhmmm…sounds just like Jesus; He’s in the restoration business, turning our sinful lives into bright, beacons of hope and grace.

So what about you? Isn’t it time to shed those rags of self-pity and breathe in the pristine, life changing air of forgiveness? For life is too short to allow bitterness and unforgiveness to rob us of our joy and zest for life that God so freely gives…

 

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:31-32 NIV