Sharing the Experience

This morning I dropped Carolon off at Love Field for the flight to Houston Hobby and tomorrow she will board a cruise ship out of Galveston for her inaugural cruise. I sit at home still awaiting my induction into what seems like a uniform opinion from those who’ve been, “there is nothing quite like a cruise, the food is wonderful, and everything you need is taken care of.” Ok I get the point, but still I sit at home!

This summer Carolon has spent several days out of town helping to care for a new grandbaby addition to the family and so in prep for this trip she asked me,” so what are you going to do while I am gone?” I responded, “Well, last time I read five books and was able to catch up on a lot of work.” Yes, honesty is the best policy, but not without consequences. Again I sit at home, awaiting what may prove to be an allusive dream of one day sailing the high seas.

In anticipation of applying for a doctoral program at summers end, I have work needing to be done over the next week. It is the perfect time to shift to a higher gear. The itch is returning to write, and I’m feeling something a little demanding, perhaps a little more scholarly for a journal offering, may command my vision. VBS is just a week away and I am torn between an adult textual study which is my passion, or a video series on family which has been quite popular. Regardless I have to decide the direction and do the prep. And yet the waves and the breeze, the sound of laughter and the aroma of exquisite dishes keep high jacking higher and more worthy thoughts. I sit at home, wanting, waiting, wondering…

Last night Carolon and I sat down for a wonderful steak dinner to celebrate (though a day late) 31 years of marriage. And what I have discovered, more in recent months than ever before, we have reached a point in life, in marriage, where I have this unexplainable sort of satisfaction along with her in what she experiences. When she went to help with the new grandbaby I felt a sense of being there and enjoying it also. And in anticipation for this trip I didn’t feel regret for not going, just excited she was going with three close friends to have, as we say, “the time of her life.”

Yes I sit at home wanting to one day board a ship myself and be overwhelmed by the vastness of the ocean all around, but tomorrow I feel the joy for and through Carolon.

Graduation

Cap and Gown season is here and we find ourselves celebrating with at least 11 families, seven at our home church and several others from families we have been friends with for years. In my youth ministry days I would yearly attend three, or four ceremonies of 700 to 800 graduates. The convention center hosting the graduation would be packed, the pomp and circumstance well choreographed, and the atmosphere electric. Every family waiting for the 5 to 10 seconds of fame for "their graduate!"

Honestly whether the graduation is in southeast Texas, central Texas, or North Texas some aspects are predictable. I suppose over the years I have attended so many graduations the predictable has become the norm. But, tonight the unanticipated burst in to deliver a freshness.

Carolon and I traveled to the small school district of Kopperl to celebrate the graduation of our friend Reagan. Both an accomplished athlete, achieving a full athletic scholarship with Harding University, and Salutatorian of her class; Reagan delivered a remarkable speech, sensitive to her class and expressing the necessary inherent gratitude for all who experience great achievements in life. Others spoke, awards were given out and then it happened -- the unexpected, at least by us. In front of the stage the typical flower arrangements adorned the front, but they were not there to dress the stage. At the given moment each of the grads walked to the front and began taking long stemmed flowers out of their designated vases and delivering them to friends and family throughout the audience they wanted to "thank." Beautiful Celtic music played as 16 grads went back and forth from their vases to the audience. It was touching! Now we might say this is the sort of activity one can pull off in a small school, and perhaps that is true. We also might say many schools have their own brand of this type of sentimental expression of gratitude and perhaps that is also true. But, I have been to alot of high school graduations and I have never been touched in quite the way I was tonight.

Graduations are about the individual achieving a goal, but they are also about all the people who have prayed and supported that individual toward that goal. Is it really one person dancing across a stage, or a host of hearts dancing the "happy dance" across the stage? Long ago I came to realize the weddings I performed should appropriately acknowledge the many people who have poured their love into the two hearts making a covenant. And in premarrital counseling, when I share this with a couple, they are appreciative that what they have felt will be noted; but tonight I saw a school do it right with graduation.

We attended another graduation ceremony tonight like the many which preceded. Except it wasn't. I stand to applause Kopperl High School who has discovered the true meaning of graduation!

The Season

Carolon and I have persistently viewed each time of our lives - marriage, raising children, ministry transition - as a great season of life. Such perspective can bring accurate accusations of being unrealistic about life. The tensions inherent in each season for the sane evokes feelings of frustration, disappointment, unsurety, etc., which is true. And we have experienced the gamut of emotions, but our choice has always been to land on the upside, the sun rising, the romantic sunset, the awards assemblies, tax day behind us, kids tax testing at school in the rearview mirror, vacation just around the corner, the transmission repaired, and I could go on of course.

At this time of life friends I care about deeply are experienced uncertain times, broken hearts, and questioning their next step. I feel their anguish and the distance separating us makes the agony more acute. But, breaking through this cloudy day a light of brilliance has emerged through the freshness of new life as our little Ali May came into the world last Friday with her initial words predicting the promising future awaiting her. As she looked around the room at all the strange faces she paused at one offering an innocent smile. Her words? I Love You Grandad! I see a trip to McDonalds in her future.

Journey

Church has been my life in many respects. Always there, never traipsing off on a tangent, faithfully present and involved. When in those situations where people told their Jonah stories of running from God, I had little to say but “Didn’t run away,” “I stayed home.” When the “stay home” brother of the prodigal story fame occasionally made an appearance; through some preacher’s sermon, or book I was reading; I knew how the guy felt. He stayed home and so did I. Didn’t waste my father’s wealth! Worked hard! Completely dependable!

The “stayed home” story feels lacking at those moments of personal testimony, but should I really feel guilty about doing the right thing? Ridiculous, isn’t. Even now these meanderings seem an exercise of the foolish. But, somewhere along the way I began to peel away the self-confidence of staying home, the temptation to pride of remaining inside on rainy days instead of trudging through the mud. I began to see running in place can be as detrimental as running the wrong way, and actually is it not just another way of running the wrong way?

Life at home, or painfully sorting through the mess called “my life,” most appropriately operates under the banner of Journey. Not there yet! Have much to learn! Pray for me! Viewed as a journey the life of faith (seeking faith, or greater faith) is actually quite liberating. It releases me to ask and seek, to celebrate when finding, and lean dependently when at a loss.

There is no pride left in not running away, I’ve come to discover we all have our Jonah moments; some of us are just a little better at concealing them.

Anticipation

For months, where I preach, plans have taken shape as a church waited anxiously (appropriate oxymoron) for the completion of the new FLC (Family Life Center). Last week the doors were opened to classes, last night to the annual ladies Christmas party, and this Sunday to a full-sized potluck. No phrase says church more than potluck for many. It is a tradition transcending all church parameters. Sound the alarm for food and there is no quiz needed to assess an understanding of protocol.

The joy of this FLC inaugural happening is it fills the space gap. For three years fellowships have been limited and modified due to space, but now open the doors, everyone file in, and enjoy the fun.

And lest the cloud of what we have create a self-serving fog, the party places front and center the one who made it all happen – the Lord of Lords and King of Kings – Jesus! Suddenly I feel the old tune King Jesus is All running through my brain. But, it is due to Him and a healthy fear of ingratitude motivates me to embrace Him with thanks: a gratitude we will share as a church Sunday morning. Groups of Ministry Staff, Shepherds, Building Team Members, and Deacons will stand before the Westhill church to lead the body in expressions of thanks, but also to focus the body with a commitment for the path ahead.

We have been presented with a tool for active body life, not a museum for dead body remembrance!

Hang On

It's hard to believe it has been a month since Carolon and I settled into our new home and ministry here at Westhill. Our moves over the years have been few and far between, so there is a certain rookie feeling about this transition. And to be quite honest I'm glad. I would hate to waltz in with the disposition of being use to moving and starting over.

My boyhood church went through three preachers while I was growing up: Eugene Gilmore, one I only recall as Bro. Dennis, and Ed Morris. The last, Ed Morris was there for most of those years. In fact, upon graduation I returned to Burkburnett for a short stint as his associate. (What a different experience from kid in the pew to minister on staff.) So, I suppose I came into ministry with the mindset of investing years not months. Also, I have always thought not growing up in a preacher's family instilled a feeling of not being set apart from the church and just temporary member, but seeing our family as just one of many families. (Undoubtedly, those of you second, or third generations preachers, etc. might have a different perspective.)

This move carried us away from physical family and long time friends, but we have experienced such a warm reception; the experience of being here is swiftly drifting toward the familiar from the new. In addition to the reception, the pace of life has moved/and is moving rapidly as we work to build friendships; learn about ministries at Westhill and in the community; and add our gifts to the array of work already being performed. As I write this the sounds of preschool echo through the building with excitement.

By God's grace we all minister regardless of the pace. By His power we gain strength to accomplish what needs to be accomplished today. And through His wisdom we anticipate the adventure of tomorrow. HANG ON!

What Stress?

Tonight I watched a young woman who will realize a dream tomorrow, when she and her love are married, throw off the stress of an impending wedding, set aside the weariness of a day spent scurrying around town accomplishing a list of final objectives (at least final until morning delivers additional crises items), look past incidental comments which offer little help, and skip her way through the rehearsal with vibrancy and joy.

I asked her as we walked up to the restaurant door for the rehearsal dinner, "Are you really going to run down the aisle at the conclusion of the ceremony tomorrow?" a strategy for leaving the stage area she had suggested (threatened). Her response to me was, with a smile, "I would like to!" Will she do it? Probably not, but the spunk she was displaying when so many brides at wedding time are uptight and worn out, was inspiring. I know weddings are special events, and certain conventions of decorum are more acceptable than others, but too often we allow pivotal life events to transform our world into a drudgery to move past rather than an experience to embrace. Should weddings be fun? Is there really any advantage in filling the role of Bridezilla?

Let's plan, let's practice, let's pursue the perfect ceremony dream; but through it all let's do a little more skipping!!!!