July 31 - “Amidst the chaos”

After a harrowing drive through Houston with such added attractions as unending construction and an unfortunately placed  wreck right in the middle lane and numerous cars on the side of the road (Some were accompanied by the flashing lights of an “escort;” an inordinate amount of others were, believe it or not, changing flat tires.  We decided it had to be the heat.  It reached 105 before we reached our destination), we made it to the Buc-ees in Madisonville. 

Ah, Buc-ees, a quiet bastion of peace and clean restrooms after such a storm of travel.  We pulled off the freeway and made our way toward the entrance.  And that resulted in an “Uh-oh.”  The entire parking lot was crammed with weary traveler cars.  Every gas pump was taken, with an impatient line behind them.  We have never seen anything like it.  We managed to find a parking place, but the inside of the store was a madhouse.  It was like Minute Maid Park after an Astros victory.  No one wants to leave, so 40,000 people just mill around.  There must have been at least that many in Buc-ees.  There was literally not enough room to turn around. 

Forget the anticipated “quick lunch.”  We decided right away to stop somewhere down the road.  It was a struggle, but we made our way to the bathrooms.  Of course the men’s bathroom experience was much easier to deal with that the women’s, so I returned to the hustle and bustle of the store area, found a spot and just stopped to wait for Chris and watch the people.  And as I waited I felt a distinct tap on my shoulder.  Not the brush and bumps of the thundering hordes.  This was a definite tap to get my attention.  And then I heard, “Long way from home, aren’t you?”  I slowly turned to locate the voice’s source, and imagine my surprise when there before me stood a Seasider.  Mike and his family had been up near Dallas for the weekend and were headed home.  We talked for a while, then he moved on toward the bathroom himself.  I was anxious to tell Chris about my experience, but she trumped me.  Seems she had already run into Mike’s wife Lori.  And Chris, being the kind-hearted, ministry-minded soul that she is, insisted that we wait and reconnect with them again.  Seems Lori had a pretty bad toothache, and Chris wanted to make sure we prayed with her.  It took some doing, but we located them again, and right there in the midst of the Buc-ees madness, we prayed.  And as we said “amen” and rejoined the world around us, I noticed how much space had been afforded us.  Chaos all around.  Peaceful prayer within.  Crowded, but small world.  Really Big God.

Psalms 89:2 says, “I will declare that your love stands firm forever, that you established your faithfulness in heaven itself.”

Father, please work your healing in Lori’s life.  And would you start in her mouth?  She could sure use some relief.  Amen.

July 30 – “Duke”

I did a rare baby dedication at the beach on Saturday evening.  Not that the baby was rare.  I mean the idea of doing one at the beach.  It is not the usual location.  Especially when the family wants to use the water as part of the ceremony.  Actually, I did the exact same ceremony for the same family around five years ago for now big sister Ellie.  So the creating a ceremony part was really easy.  The amazing thing was the condition of the water.  We were having another of those rare times when the Mississippi River starts flowing backwards or something.  There was no silt at all in the water.  Beautiful, clear, blue, calm … just gorgeous.  I think the family will remember this one for a long time. 

Speaking of the family, they were very sweet.  They rented two beach houses to house them all for the occasion – maybe fifteen or so of them.  Oh, and I fell in love with the baby’s name.  Actually she had three first names.  Or would that be one first name and two middle names?  Anyway, here it is: Luna Mirela Duke, and then their last name.  Yep.  Sweet little girl with a middle name of Duke.  Gotta be a story there, right?  Well, when I first arrived she was being held by a young man who was subsequently introduced to me as none other than “Uncle Duke.”  Ah, hence the namesake.  He was also the baby’s godfather.  The way he was doting over her, that little one will have Uncle Duke’s heart and protection for a long, long time. 

Kind of reminded me of how we carry the name of Christ (“Christian”) because we have his heart and protection.

Psalms 89:1 says, “I will sing of the Lord's great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations.”

Father, thank you for being the best God-father ever.  Thank you for your love and protection.  Amen.

July 29 – “Knee Report: Day Two”

OK.  The trip to the orthopedic doctor is complete.  The options have been laid out on the table.  I selected the one that was next in line, so how did it work for me?

Well, nighttime didn’t bring me the uninterrupted sleep I longed for.  Around 2:30 a.m. I woke to some pain in my knee again.  This time it was limited to a very specific area deep inside behind the kneecap.  There was an initial sharpness to it, and then the subsequent aching like you have after a cramp in a muscle.  It was nagging to say the least, so I finally got up and took some Tylenol to calm my head enough to ignore it so I could get back to sleep.  I did get two more crossword puzzles done while waiting for the Tylenol to kick in.  Finished the puzzle book I was working in.  Now I have a brand new one for our trip to Arlington today after church.

In spite of the less than restful night, I was dressed to go walking when Chris came in yesterday morning.  I was anxious to try it out.  She was worried that I not try to do too much too quickly.  I didn’t tell her at first that I had already walked to the end of the street and back when I went out to get the newspaper (not that big of a deal, remember?  One house away).  I did end up going one mile with her, though.  She continued on for three more.  One mile was definitely enough for me.  I could tell that I have been on an exercise hiatus for the last few months.  This is going to take a while. 

In the broad scheme of things, I have to admit that most of the excruciating, debilitating pain is gone.  There is still that one spot under the kneecap that catches every so often, though.  I guess that’s the torn meniscus Doc Kelly told us about.  So … this is me being upbeat and fired up about starting from scratch in my new exercise normal, getting in shape for our next round of surprise mini-trips to … hmm.  Any ideas?

Psalms 88:1-2 says, “O Lord, the God who saves me, day and night I cry out before you.   May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry.”

Father, thank you for the relief I feel so far.  Now I really need some help with motivation to get the leg (and the rest of the body surrounding it) back in shape.  Amen.

July 28 – “The Dreaded Monster Needle”

OK.  Time for today’s edition of the knee report, featuring this week’s star attraction, My Left Knee.

We headed into Texas for our visit with the orthopedic doctor yesterday.  Very nice clinic building.  I can see why they want to work out of a nice new facility instead of the renovated shopping mall in Galveston.  We barely had time to sit down before they were calling me back into a room.  All the preliminaries done – weight, vital signs and the like – they dropped us off in an exam room and told us to wait there.  Again, the door opened sooner than expected. 

Of course the one who next entered was not the doctor with whom I had an appointment.  How could I tell?  He was a guy.  My doc was supposed to be a lady named Kelly.  You don’t easily forget someone with such an elegant name.  This guy’s name was … I don’t remember.  Oh, he was a doctor all right, but UTMB is, after all, a teaching hospital, even at their Texas extensions.  So I told him all the gory details of my knee’s run-in with the collapsing chair.  He asked if we had actually seen the x-rays yet, and since we had not he pulled them up on the computer.  That’s when he got a somewhat adversarial look about him and asked, “So what do you know so far?”  I explained what I had been told up to that point, and he then responded, “Well, we just wanted to know what you have already been told before we tell you what we think it is.”  Hmm.  I’m not sure where he was going with that line of thinking, but it certainly didn’t inspire a load of confidence.  But he’s just the student …

Finally the doctor named Kelly arrived.  Now she did inspire confidence.  Chris and I both took to her right away.  She took her time with us, did a thorough inspection of my knee, and then gave us plenty of opportunity to ask questions.  So what was her analysis of the situation?  Well, on the one hand it was good news, but on the other …

So the good news.  In spite of the chair episode, no ligaments or tendons were damaged.  So right off the bat, surgery was pretty much off the table. 

On to the rest of the news.  There is obvious and pretty severe arthritis on the inside of the knee.  Bone on bone severe.  Apparently the chair event didn’t cause an injury, it just “woke up” what was already lurking.  The arthritis not as bad on the outside, but that matches up with the symptoms I have been having.  She said we could do an MRI, and it would probably also show a meniscus tear, but that would be the natural result of the severe arthritis, and there would be nothing that we could really do about it. 

I’m sure Chris wanted to hear all the gory details, but I was ready to jump ahead to “what can we do about it?”  Dr. Kelly (that’s her first name, by the way) very carefully laid out the course of action …

1. Anti-inflammatories – Done.

2. Physical Therapy and restriction of activity.  She also mentioned a particular brace that could be fitted to my knee that apparently worked well for her brother (except that he never wears it).  It is extremely expensive, however.  I voted that we wait until August to talk about that one.  That’s when Medicare kicks in. – So … Done.

3. Steroid injections directly into the knee (These can be done every 3 months).  Sometimes they work like a charm and you can be pain-free for months.  Other times it doesn’t work at all. 

4. Injection of some substance with the word “acid” in its name that recoats the bone heads like cartilage

5. Knee replacement.  She asked if we wanted to hear the details on this one.  Chris said, “Sure.  We don’t want to do that right away, but we want to hear the details.”  Sounded fascinating and even a bit encouraging, but … not today. 

We opted for the steroid injection.  Chris had already done her homework, so she knew what to expect.  I just knew what Dr. Kelly said as she left the room.  “The nurse will be in with a tray in just a moment, and I’ll be back.  Don’t look at the needle.”  Ah, the dreaded monster needle.  I’ve heard about that one.  “As thick as a pencil eraser and as long as your arm.  Hurts like crazy going in.  Gets even worse once they get in there and start moving it around to find the ‘sweet spot.’” 

It wasn’t nearly as bad as all that.  Oh, it was pretty long as needles go, but the doc sprayed some super-ice stuff on my knee first, so I didn’t feel it going in at all.  Now there was more of the steroid substance than I expected.  That seemed to take forever to make its way in.  And the subsequent pressure from it filling in space was definitely uncomfortable.  But she got it all in and told me to breathe again, so I guess I did OK.  She made an appointment for three months out just in case I needed another injection, and sent me on my way. 

We stopped for lunch and even made a jaunt around Hobby Lobby, and it didn’t really feel any different.  No instant magic, I supposed.  I crashed in my chair when we got home, exhausted and disappointed at the absence of instant gratification.  Things were some different as the evening progressed, however.  I really could tell a difference in the pain.  The weird rolling or clicking behind my kneecap was still there, but all the residual tightening and pain around it was … gone.  I went to bed guardedly optimistic. 

Psalms 86:16 says, “Turn to me and have mercy on me; grant your strength to your servant and save the son of your maidservant.”

Father, thank you for all the options for pain relief.  Thanks as well for all the prayers that have been offered up for me.  Hear them.  Amen.

July 27 – “Who is Oscar?”

Well, now.  Here’s a fun alternative to working at a computer desk all day.  Yesterday we went to the Rosenberg Library.  Not, I confess, to check out a book, however.  This day we would be privy to a very special event, one opened only to the select few who managed to make their way into the confines of the main meeting room on the main floor of the library.  And what event of such magnitude could possibly be occurring in Galveston?  It was not so much the event as the introduction of a special guest.  So, then, who could it be?

The room slowly filled with children and their parents or caretakers.  Cailyn and Nathan came.  Christina brought her five young’uns.  I met one particular family outside the room.  The Mom and Dad and young son were from an Eastern European country, in town visiting Grandma.  Grandma was very much the American.  She asked me about the impending program, and when I shared what few details I knew, she turned to her family and began the most animated explanation of the coming guest star that I have ever seen, waving her arms, and pantomiming throwing and pulling back what would appear in the world of mime to be a gigantic slingshot.  The youngster was intrigued a bit at first, but in the end, his mind just couldn’t get wrapped around what she was describing so excitedly.  To Grandma’s great disappointment, they left before the festivities began. 

Not long after, the doors closed.  The music began.  And leaping out from behind a screen came none other than … Oscar.  Umm.  Wait.  Oscar?  Cool name and all, but who is Oscar?  He was loud and happy and interacted well with the children.  But … Oscar?  Oh, wait.  What was that he was saying?  He was NOT the star so long expected?  Well, that’s a relief.  He was just there to work the kids into a frenzy.  And he was doing fairly well.  But it was all an opening act to the character behind the door.  And then, the door flew open and there he was.  The one we had all been waiting for.  Orbit, the mascot for the Houston Astros.  Not kidding.  He and Oscar entertained the kiddos for a while.  They played a game, read a book that revealed Orbit’s origin story (He’s an alien trapped in our universe, you know.  Only one of his kind.  Kind of like Mork from Ork), and closed out with an appeal for reading and staying in school.  They gave the library a few copies of the Orbit book, and then allowed every kid in the room to take a photo with good ol’ Orbit.  Cailyn even got his autograph on a softball.  Then all the cousins came over to our house for pizza.  Not a bad day for a couple of grandparents, don’t you think?

Psalms 86:15 says, “But you, O Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”

Father, thank you for all those kids who were so delighted to see the huge, fuzzy, antennaed creature.  Give them all many more happy days.  And bless Oscar and Orbit, too.  Help them stay hydrated and happy as well.  Amen.

July 26 – “A day in the life of a knight in shining armor”

Sigh.  Another big computer work day yesterday.  I’m doing my best to get at least a little ahead for when we are at the Baptist convention starting Sunday.  Then Cousins’ Camp right after that.  Then a possible mystery tour after we return some cousins back to Waco.  Hey … at least we will get a chance to try out our new car on a road trip. 

Chris asked me to go shopping with her.  Not leave-the-Island shopping, though.  So I went.  I think she felt sorry for me since I haven’t been able to walk with her in the mornings because of my knee.  She’s up to four miles on her own.  I’m impressed.  And a little jealous.  I see the orthopedist tomorrow.  Maybe some answers beyond “getting old” lie in my future.  Besides, how could I resist the appeal of a fair maiden for protection?

We went first to Academy.  She has been looking for some sandals for some time now.  The ones she had literally fell apart.  Duct tape only goes so far, even in designer colors.  Unbelievably, that trip was a rousing success.  She was trying to decide whether to settle for a pair that just didn’t quite fit.  Meanwhile, I was engaged in every little boy’s dream when trapped in a shoe department.  Legos with shoeboxes.  What marvelous things one can build when given enough time to oneself.  Not that I was doing anything so juvenile.  Not me.  I was merely digging back behind a huge pile of shoeboxes, diligently searching for the right size to meet me wife’s need.  And wouldn’t you know it?  There it was.  Her size.  Even came in a Teva.  I donned my shining armor, hopped on my white steed and galloped over to where she was trying on the too-small shoes.  Ta-da.  Victory.  The ones I provided fit perfectly.  And if they are true to their predecessors, they will last for years to come. 

The rest of the journey was kind of anticlimactic.  We went to WalMart, of course.  Searching for a particular size picture frame there.  Nope.  I did, however, almost get light sabered with a pool noodle in the parking lot.  It would have been one thing had it been a child.  I could have gone all Han Solo on him.  I was, after all, already clad in my white knight’s armor.  But it was clearly a Mom.  I did offer her my bared neck should she want another swipe at me, but she refused, apologizing profusely.  Her husband, meanwhile, snickered in the background.  No such excitement at Randall’s, although we did get some dog food and fruit there.  Oh, well.  Give me a run-in with a Jedi over a boring yet successful fruit and dog food run any day.

Psalms 86:12-13 says, “I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever.  For great is your love toward me.”

Father, thank you for Tevas and pool noodles and shoeboxbox-sized Legos.  Oh, and shining armor.  That’s pretty special, too.  Amen.

July 25 – “The case of the mysterious knock”

MTG (Mow the grass) day again yesterday.  Kind of tough on the knee, but it was way easier than letting it get really thick. 

Oh, we were called upon to play the hero.  Just as I was finishing up the weed-eating in the back yard, Cailyn called Chris.  Some days when both her parents are on shift they let her sleep in and then call us to come pick her up.  One of the perks of being two minutes away from the grandparents, I guess.  Well, as she was snuggling with her ever-present boxer companion, she heard a noise.  It sounded like someone was opening and closing cabinets.  More than a tad disconcerting to a nine-year-old. 

Of course her first call was to her Daddy.  He somewhat soothed her fears and then told her to call us to come get her.  I joined Chris on pick-up duty this time.  Hey, I had to check out this mysterious interloper.  I walked the perimeter when we arrived and everything looked secure enough.  We gathered up our charge and headed back home.

But I think we did solve the case of the mysterious knock.  Well, Chris came up with it, actually.   See, on our way into their neighborhood, who should we pass but … the trash truck.  I’m pretty sure what she heard was the trash truck faithfully knocking about on his daily rounds. 

Psalms 86:11 says, “Teach me your way, O Lord, and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.”

Father, thank you for Daddies who calm and Granddads who don’t mind walking the perimeter and Grandmother sleuths.  But thanks more for your protection, which is greater than anything we can provide.  Amen.

July 24 – “Emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”

Yesterday I once again muddled myself into my magnanimous Monday mandates.  I managed to manipulate my methodology so that I waded through the muck and mire that is my manifold measure of manufacture.

Phew.  That alliteration thing is harder than it looks.  Sixteen ems in two sentences. Count ‘em.  That’s a record - for me, anyway.  Guess it’s obvious I just don’t have much to say today.  I worked yesterday.  There you have it.  Blessed to be able to do that, I suppose.  Here.  I’ll let someone else talk for a while today.  How about King David?  He can turn a phrase here and there …

Psalms 86:1-10

 Hear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy.  Guard my life, for I am devoted to you.  You are my God; save your servant who trusts in you.  Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long.  Bring joy to your servant, for to you, O Lord,

I lift up my soul.

You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call to you.  Hear my prayer, O Lord; listen to my cry for mercy.  In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me.

Among the gods there is none like you, O Lord; no deeds can compare with yours.  All the nations you have made will come and worship before you, O Lord; they will bring glory to your name.  For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God.

Father, thank you for being, well, God.  Ditto to what all David had to say.  Amen.

July 23 – “Powerful stuff”

A quick word about praying.  Yesterday, as the praise team took a break from rehearsing, I went over and prayed with them, as is my usual custom.  As I finished up, Mrs. Dianne said, “And for our pastor too …”  But she didn’t stop there.  As the rest of the team reached for their guitars, she started pointing to different areas of the worship center and calling by name the various regulars who usually sit there.  Before long all of us were joining in, calling out in prayer the names of every one of the Seaside regulars.  And Mrs. Dianne remembered the myriad of visitors we have as well, mentioning specifically the RV’ers and campers and weekenders and retirees and new to the area’s and the just going to the beach-ers and the ones staying in our retreat center.  I’m pretty sure every person who even thought about attending Seaside was prayed for. 

Then, just before worship started, I was grabbed by the hand by Mr. Bob.  He also grabbed another guy as we walked past, and the three of us hurried into the office area of the worship center.  We all then held hands and Mr. Bob prayed for the service and for me in particular.  Invigorating, to say the least.  And then after the service I was having a random conversation with Mrs. Violet.  She was waiting for her ride home to finish some chore around the church.  The issues I’m having with my knee came up, and she immediately said, “Well, let’s pray for your knee right now.”  She grabbed my hands and prayed a very sweet prayer.  Not long.  Didn’t have to be.  Heartfelt, though.  And greatly appreciated. 

There are a few things that really do a pastor good right before he heads out to lead in worship.  One of them, by the way, is not approaching him with a gripe or complaint that could just as easily be handled with an email.  Valid prayer requests are a different story.  Those he can and will handle.  So, what to say?  Any word of encouragement is always welcome.  Say anything positive about his family, his teaching/preaching … even his appearance.  He may or may not be able to process it quickly enough to respond appropriately right then, but he does receive it … and need it.  And the second thing is prayer.  Assure him you are praying for him … and then, when you can stop to take a breath, actually do it.  Or follow the example of Mrs. Dianne and Mr. Bob and Mrs. Violet.  Stop right where you are and say a prayer. 

James 5:16 says, “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”

Father, thank you for the prayers of your people.  I can sure feel the difference.  Powerful stuff.  Amen.

July 22 – “On baseball-loving your kids”

We went to a baseball game yesterday.  No, it wasn’t the Astros.  They did win, though.  Out in California somewhere.  Verlander had eleven strikeouts and Springer hit a grand slam.  Great game.  But that’s not the one we went to.  Ours was a tad closer to home. 

We headed over to the airport baseball fields (about a mile from our house) to watch our speedster little neighbor Brennan play in a Little League machine pitch all-star tournament game.  His Mom and Grandma were all there, and after finagling some hectic personal life scheduling, Dad was present as well.  I love Brennan’s Dad’s commitment to Brennan’s love of baseball.  Even though he really didn’t know the game (Dad is a fabulous musician – the other side of the spectrum from organized sports), Corey has learned a lot since Brennan started playing.  I’m really proud of that guy (Corey, I mean).

Brennan did really well.  He is by far the fastest short guy I have ever seen since Jose Altuve.  But sadly, the final results weren’t good news as in the Astros’ case.  But any time I can enjoy watching baseball, especially kids playing baseball, I will jump at the chance.  Why, even on our 25^th wedding anniversary trip to Maine (that was a long time ago, by the way), after a long few days of looking at lighthouses and taking in the beautiful scenery, Chris asked me what I wanted to do.  So guess where we ended up?  We walked over to a Little League field near the Bed and Breakfast and watched some baseball. 

The other thing that really encouraged me yesterday happened not on the field, but in the stands.  Well, two things, actually.  I caught a foul ball.  No error.  No bobbling.  Clean fielding all the way.  That was a bonus.  The other thing was the presence of the pastor of our local First Baptist Church.  His son is on Brennan’s team, so he was there to cheer them on.  And cheer he did.  Not wild and crazy, though.  Just a calm, encouraging stream of positive words to the boys as they approached the plate and again as they returned to the dugout.  And later I saw on social media that the pastor of another of the larger churches on the Island had been at his son’s baseball game as well (His boy is older than Brennan so they were at a different field).  I’m sure there was some more encouragement flowing at that field as well.  Nice job, John and Aaron.  Proud of you guys, both for carrying on the baseball tradition and for being encouragers.  Keep on baseball-loving those kids of yours.  It will be a life-changing memory for them.

Psalms 85:10 says, “Love and faithfulness meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other.”

Father, thank you for Dads who love their kids.  Enough said.  Amen.

July 21 – “Honoring Mr. Burns”

I went to a funeral yesterday for the grandfather of one of our young fire fighters.  It was a very simple, yet quite beautiful tribute to the gentleman.  He was obviously loved and highly respected by his family and friends and apparently the whole Santa Fe community.  Mr. Burns was a Christian and a member of the local Cowboy Church.  There were quite a few men in cowboy hats, and the pall bearers all wore the traditional blue jeans and white shirts and cowboy hats.  I did notice that they kept the hats on throughout the service, but all the hats came off during prayers.  Respect for the Lord.  I like that. 

One of his sons actually led the service and part of his responsibility was to present the gospel.  He read John 3:16, and I saw quite a few lips reciting it along with him.  Then he made a simple appeal for folks to pray and give their life to Jesus.  Obviously heartfelt.  One of the most “real” gospel presentations I have heard in years.  Another son read the obituary, and our fire fighter grandson read a tribute he had written as well.  They were all shaken, to be sure, but they all did a great job. 

The family asked the funeral home to handle the military flag presentation portion of the service.  As beautiful and moving as it is when servicemen are involved, I don’t mind having this particular funeral home take care of it.  I have seen their handiwork several times now, and they always do a fine job.  Yesterday was no different.  One comment they made that was a new one to me came in the portion just before the actual flag folding.  It was a simple thought.  The guy reminded us that something had to hold the red and white stripes together to maintain the flag’s strong foundation.  Something had to keep the stars on the blue background.  What was that?  The thread.  And the thread represents the military servicemen and women who have fought for the country.  Powerful imagery.  Then another of our fire fighters assisted with the actual flag folding while the narrator explained the meaning behind each of the thirteen folds.  And of course the playing of taps is always enough to bring numerous tears throughout the building. 

I wasn’t able to attend the graveside portion of the service, but from what I experienced yesterday, the family’s wish to have celebration instead of sadness was certainly accomplished.  May God be with your family, Jonathan.

In John 14:1-3 Jesus says, “Stop letting your hearts be troubled; keep on believing in God, and also in me.  In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places; if there were not, I would have told you, for I am going away to make ready a place for you.  And if I go and make it ready for you, I will come back and take you to be face to face with me, so that you may always be right where I am.”

Father, I do ask that you walk with the Burns family as they grieve and remember and make plans to move on.  Amen.

July 20 – “A grasp for the past”

I just read one of those articles in the paper today that is not really news.  I don’t mean it was fake news.  I just mean it was someone’s opinion rather than a report on something that happened.  And yes, I really do read the daily newspaper.  Kind of a grasp for the past, I confess.  I could read it online.  But there is nothing quite like the mystifying struggle involved in holding open a swatch of really thin paper that is as big as a tabletop.  Or trying to turn the page without it getting that crinkled spot in the middle that causes the back side to be all folded over so you can’t read it.  Oh, and then there’s the newsprint – the traces of ink – that gets all over your fingers when you try to smooth a page out.  Nasty. 

But on the other hand, there’s nothing quite like the anticipation of seeing the headline for the first time.  And the excitement of reliving the Astros game from the night before with the reporter who is delivering his summary.  I used to enjoy the comics.  They changed those just recently.  Something about upgrading to comics that appeal more to millennials, to a younger generation.  That would be the generation who is garnering its information online and could never in a million years be bothered to open a physical paper.  I read that something like 80% of the newspaper’s readers/subscribers are over 55 years of age.  Gotta grab that 20% at the cost of the rest of us, I guess. 

Boy, that was quite the rant.  Not exactly where I intended to go this morning.  I was going to talk about trees.  That was the topic in that opinion piece I read.  All about how trees are a metaphor for life and all.  Guess I’ll just leave you with his final thought.  Trees have been important to God’s plan for a long time.  At the beginning … the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  And at the end … the Tree of Calvary where Jesus defeated Satan.  And one thing he didn’t mention … aside from all the scientific stuff about using carbon dioxide and creating oxygen and all that … with a little advance preparation, they make good reading material in the morning with a cup of coffee.   

Psalms 85:8-9 says, “I will listen to what God the Lord will say; he promises peace to his people, his saints — but let them not return to folly.  Surely his salvation is near those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land.”

Father, thank you for the trees and all they become.  Amen.

July 19 – “Twist it how?”

Well, I had another strange encounter with a physical therapist yesterday.  Actually the strange part came when she invited an orthopedic resident who happened to be in the building over to have a look at my knee.  She confessed to him that she hadn’t been able to isolate exactly what the issue might be.  They discussed my knee and its intimacies for about five minutes (Hey, I’m sitting right here, guys).  Finally the resident turned to me and began an examination of his own.  He pulled and twisted and prodded the area.  He had me stand on my bad leg with my arms folded across my chest like one of those old Indian chief pictures.  He assured me he wouldn’t let me fall, then proceeded to twist my entire body to the right and to the left.  I did OK one direction, but the other got to me.  Next I had to sit down and he held my foot between his legs, held my thigh with one hand, and pulled and twisted the bottom of my leg with the other.  Oh, and at this point he decided to introduce himself.  That’s when I found out he was a resident and not just another PT student.  Good to know. 

At this point the discussion of my lower extremity began again, and I was once again excluded from the conversation.  The key phrase I heard him say were, “indicative of meniscus involvement.”  They apparently realized at that point that I was listening in, so they spoke to me.  Little old me.  Actual patient me.  The explanation for the foot between the legs twisting action?  The “hypothesis” (his words, not mine) was that when I fell under the chair and twisted my knee, my tibia was knocked off center.  He was trying to pull it back into better alignment.  And some of the subsequent exercises they gave me are designed to continue and then strengthen that positioning.  The meniscus mention was not something they could verify with just an x-ray.  I guess that’s one of those MRI injuries (my words, not his). 

Speaking of weird exercises … the two he added are going to be interesting at best.  One is pretty easy.  Every time I stand up after sitting for a while, I am supposed to just rock back and forth to remind my brain (her words, not mine) to keep my foot pointed straight and my knee over my toe.  Got it.  The second one was an orthopedic resident special.  On my back, one of those big thick rubber band things was wrapped around my thighs and tied.  With my heels on the floor and my knees up, I pulled outward against the rubber band, while at the same time pulling my feet up and pushing my toes together.  And once I have that going, lift my hips off the ground for 50 seconds (By this time I felt like a Bop-It game was being played with my body).  And do it all four times.  Are we confused yet?  I stopped him to clarify that “50 seconds.”  He changed it to say a total of 50 seconds that could be broken down into 10 second intervals.  Thank you, kind sir.

So now I have some things to work on between now and my appointment with the orthopedist next Friday.  So let me get rocking … and twisting and pulling and lifting and stretching …

Psalms 84:12 says, “O Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you.”

Father, thank you for people dedicated to finding ways to correct the bumps and bruises and twists and pulls we inflict upon ourselves.  Bless them.  Amen.

July 18 – “It’s for Mom”

I buried myself in work again yesterday.  I did get a lot done, but it kind of wore me out.  Not so much physically, but I did feel exhausted.  It helped that Chris was able to get her haircut.  Always a lift to my spirits when she walks through the door and gives me a pat on the arm or a quick kiss.  And to have her looking even cuter than usual doesn’t hurt, either.

Last night we watched the All Star game.  Well, I watched it while Chris did cross stitch and watched me watch it.  I’m no sports reporter, but that was a really fun game.  They put a microphone on a few of the players out in the field during the game and had a conversation with them while the opposing team batted.  There are some really funny guys out there.  My favorite line of the evening was one of the National League outfielders.  The American League started scoring, so the announcer asked if the fielder thought they had jinxed them.  He responded, “Naw.  I’m not superstitious.  Well, maybe I’m a little bit stitious.”  Classic etymological breakdown.  Nicely done.

As far as the Astros’ representatives were concerned, I would say they did just fine.  Verlander didn’t pitch because his last start was too close, so he didn’t have enough rest.  Cole didn’t pitch either.  Not sure why.  Maybe they just didn’t get to him.  Morton came really close to getting the win after giving up a tying home run, nut the pitcher after him blew the save by giving up a game-tying home run in the bottom of the ninth.  Altuve and Springer both got singles during the course of the game.  But the real fireworks came in the top of the tenth inning.  Bregman batted first.  He was the only Astro position player without a hit, so the pressure was on.  And boy did he ever deliver.  Home run to put the National League ahead.  And on the very next pitch?  Springer added another home run to put the game out of reach.  Back to back off the Dodgers All-Star representative.  Just like the World Series. 

And to close out the night, Bregman was awarded Most Valuable Player honors.  He got the Ted Williams trophy (Looked like a glass bat).  He said it was special because one time his Dad got to sit on Ted Williams’ lap.  Then he was presented with his choice of a brand new truck or a Camaro.  He didn’t even hesitate.  He took the Camaro and said he was giving it to his Mom.  And as the camera panned away from the awards ceremony, there she was.  Bregman’s Mom was dashing across the infield.  Ran into her son’s arms.  Sweet baseball memories for them, that’s for sure. 

Psalms 84:11 says, “For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.”

Father, thank you for the chances you gave me to do things for my Mom.  Not a Camero, mind you, but I think she was OK with scribbled pictures for the fridge and a big hug.  Amen.

July 17 – “Number Nine”

It is hard to write creatively about a day that is so … usual.  Yesterday was Monday.  I have quite the routine on Monday, and all of it relates to working on the computer.  Don’t get me wrong.  It always helps to get started early.  Really gives one a feeling of accomplishment that encourages continuing on to the next tasks for the week.  To put it another way that only list-makers will understand … I checked off no fewer than nine things from my weekly to-do list.  Nine.  That’s a good day, isn’t it?  Birthday/anniversary cards. 

Pay bills.

Church website article.

Home group Bible study prep.

Call to Worship Scripture for services Sunday.

Choose Visual Verse.

Type out announcements sheet.

Create Welcome Montage powerpoint.

Whew.  It does sound like a lot.  But that’s only eight things, isn’t it?  Well, here’s where the overwhelmingly exciting part of the day comes in.  Chris and I made a trip over to Randall’s to pick up a prescription and some fruit.  Even caught some coffee beans on sale.  Wow.  Anchor me to earth, folks.  Number nine.

Now the excursion did enable me to experience that weird weather phenomenon that is wafting over Galveston and on into the state of Texas now (Well, Chris experienced it when she took a walk earlier).  Seems the Sahara Desert has decided to take an overseas journey and visit the United States.  Don’t ask me how, but our atmosphere is now a hazy fog of Saharan sand particles.  It was sufficient to give me a headache, if nothing else.  But now I can wear the t-shirt: “I Survived the Saharan Invasion.” 

Psalms 84:10 says, “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.”

Father, thank you for all the phenomena of nature that we get to be a part of.  You are amazingly creative.  Amen.

July 16 – “A genius of an idea”

I didn’t really take stock of where everyone came from to get to church at Seaside this past Sunday, so I don’t know if we had an international connection or not.  I think I did hear mention of a Kansas, though.  Does that count?

The folks staying in the retreat center joined us for worship.  It was a pretty big family that has held a reunion of sorts here for the last two years.  We also hosted a group from The Reflection Center House of Prayer here in Galveston.  They wanted to worship with us to see how they could better pray for us as a church.  Looks like this Wednesday they will be praying specifically for Seaside.  Pretty exciting news to hear.

Only three of our usual six dogs were there.  70 humans, though.  We ended up having not one but two different kids’ classes going on at the same time as worship.  Cathy took the younger kids into the nursery room.  Chris and Janell took the older ones into the office area.  They just turned a fan on (which provided the perfect separation of sound from the worship center) and started up with a Bible story and a craft.  Every so often one of the kids would run into the worship center to show Mom and Dad the cool sailboats they were making (Any guesses what the Bible story was?). 

It is so great to have a family atmosphere at Seaside where kids feel comfortable racing back and forth to connect with parents about their excitement at learning about Jesus.  And to have folks who aren’t afraid to talk during the teaching time.  What better way to learn than to interact with each other?  Not to mention the fellowship aspect of a building full of people sharing a meal together after worshipping together.  Kind of touches on part of the genius of this whole Church idea.  Nice thinking, God.

Psalms 84:4 says, “Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.”

Father, thank you for the joy and wonder that is a little kid sharing something new with his parents.  Priceless.  Amen.

July 15 – “What’s a Carabbas?”

We had what I would call an unusually quiet day yesterday.  At least for the first part of it.  I did a lot of finishing touches work on the sermon.  Then Chris joined me in the office and we drifted into talking about our Alaskan cruise.  She is doing enough research into that trip to make a college professor’s head spin.  She has a spiral notebook almost filled up with her notes.  Me?  I’m more of the student grader kind of guy.  Bring me the finished product and I’ll edit it for grammar and clarity.  More to come on the trip, I’m sure.

In the afternoon we left the Island and headed into Texas.  We had to pick up some supplies at Sam’s for the church.  Next we headed further north and made a stop into JoAnn’s.  That’s a Chris-type store.  Full of fabric and craft stuff and the like.  She needed a specific color of thread for a cross stitch project she is currently working on.  From there we went just a few doors down to Lifeway Christian Store.  There we picked up some communion cups for the church.  They were supposed to be giving away a children’s Bible study book, but they had already run out of those.  We ended up with the “replacement version,” a VeggieTales book.  VeggieTales are fine for kids who already know the Bible stories.  For kids with no church background, though, they are just strange stories about tomatoes and asparagus. 

From there we moved a little further down the road to Carabbas Restaurant.  Never been there before.  We had to look it up to see what kind of food they served.  Italian.  There we met up with some friends from long ago when we were living in Mansfield.  They were in town for a book fair up by the intercontinental airport.  Their daughter is an author and had a signing table.  Fortunately they were staying with some friends in Deer Park, so it was much closer for them and us to meet there near Baybrook Mall.  Great to see them.  We talked for about two hours.  I was beginning to feel sorry for the server having to put up with us (and having no turnover on his table), but he was very gracious. 

And now we head to church.  I had to move the supplies all around to make room for Chris’ bean soup.  Dinner on the grounds …

Psalms 84:1-2 says, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty!  My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.”

Father, I thank you every time we get together with old friends.  They are some pretty special creatures to still want to connect with us over all these years.  Amen.