November 19 – “Whoa before woe”

Countdown to Hospital-Surprise Sustenance … seven days.  (OK, OK.  Countdown has been adjusted.  My mistake).

I sit here at my desk this morning staring at … a cookie.  Yep.  Yesterday I was gifted with a snowman cookie by one of the girls at church.  She told me she had no problem selecting one for me.  She said it “looks just like you.”  Wow.  Immortalized in an icing-infused sugar cookie.  I am humbled.  I am also still a little hungry after breakfast.  This dude may not last until lunchtime.

We had quite a few visitors at church yesterday.  Part of that was because of our guest speaker at our Dinner Theater Dinner on the Grounds Extravaganza.  But there was one guy who came just because he knew me.  Sweet, huh?  Ernest is a friend from way back in my Houston Baptist University days.  Way back.  Way, way back when there was a 19 in front of the year and marriage to Chris was still a determined gleam in my ever-stalking eye.  And he went on the same study trip to the Holy Lands that I did back then.  He apparently told the friend he brought with him “all about me.”  It’s always frightening to hear comments like that.  Especially when I don’t remember some of the things he does.  Not that I doubt that I did them.  I’m sure I did.  See, I was a fun guy back then.  Now I have mellowed and matured and calmed down a lot.  I did appreciate the word of encouragement his friend offered.  “It is really obvious that you like what you do.”  That’s positive, isn’t it?

Our guest speaker was a potter from the Bryan area.  We met her at her shop on our way to the doomed Promise trip last month, and she agreed to come share at Seaside.  Her message was impressive, too.  All about God being the potter and us being clay.  The most powerful part of the presentation, however, was her personal testimony about how far she has come since discovering what it was like to totally surrender to Jesus.  I did have one particular favorite line, though.  She quoted a passage from Isaiah, and then added, “When God says ‘Woe’ … you better Whoa.” 

Isaiah 45:9 says, “Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker, to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.  Does the clay say to the potter, 'What are you making?'  Does your work say, 'He has no hands'?”

Father, thank you for the chance to see old friends and make some new ones.  And help me to pay attention to your cries of “Whoa” before they become cries of “Woe.”  Amen.