November 15 – “Call 9-1-1”

I had a phone call from Josh yesterday.  That is not so unusual.  He calls periodically to compare notes on some situation at church or just to let us know how his boys are doing.  And that’s how the conversation started.  He asked how things were going down here, so I gave him the Reader’s Digest version of events.  “MeeMaw is about the same.  Cailyn is here because she threw up before we could get her to school.  I’ve been working on the teaching for Sunday.”  That last one always tickles his interest, so we talked about Harvest Celebration.  Finally it was his turn.

He shared about a new series he was going to be teaching on Wednesdays.  All about holiness in the Christian life.  And when he mentioned personal holiness, I asked if that was when he was going to start speaking in tongues.  Just a quick background here.  His church is extremely traditional Baptist, so the comment was clearly tongue in cheek.  He didn’t miss a beat, though.  He matter-of-factly said, “Well, we already had someone slain in the spirit this past Sunday.”  OK.  Tongue in cheek just took on a whole new flavor.  He most definitely had my attention.

Seems that during the offertory prayer, just as the “Amen” was about to be uttered, the sanctuary was rocked by a loud crashing sound.  A flurry of activity swept one of the center aisles, and a small gathering of people immediately formed in one particular spot.  Josh made his way to the platform to see if he could spot the source, but his view was blocked.  Murmurings grew louder.  Small children began to cry.  Josh knew he had to do something, so he tried to get the people’s attention and calm them down.  A cry came from the small group, “Call 9-1-1.”  Speculations were running rampant throughout the crowd.  “Did someone fall from the balcony?”  “Did someone have a heart attack?”  “Is someone dead?”  Josh managed to speak into the chaos and called the people to prayer for the obvious crisis that was occurring before them.  After the prayer, he asked that everyone leave the building as quietly and orderly as possible, and to their immense credit, the people responded admirably. 

Josh was finally able to work his way to the scene of the crisis and what met his eyes was quite scary, indeed.  He saw a man lying face down in the aisle in a pool of blood. 

By this time a fire fighter in attendance as well as a former EMT had reached the scene and began administering first aid.  Paramedics arrived within minutes.  And before long the man regained consciousness and was sitting up and talking.  Ever the thinking leader, Josh thoughtfully sent out an email blast to the congregation with the update that the gentleman was doing better and was in good hands.  Josh was commended numerous times for that act of thoughtfulness, and I add my own commendation.  Nice thinking, Josh. 

Closer investigation revealed that the man did not fall from the balcony.  There was no secret sniper taking revenge on Baylor alumni.  He simply passed out and cut his chin open on the pew in front of him.  And it bled.  A lot.  Further reports indicated that there was a medication difficulty involved that had been corrected by his doctors.  All is well on the Waco front. 

I guess this goes to show that you never know what may happen in the next moment of your existence.  It pays to be ready for anything.  Are you ready?

1 Corinthians 15:51-52 says, “Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed—in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.”

Father, thank you for the patience you have shown us, giving us a lot of extra time we really don’t deserve to get ready.  Help us make the most of it.  Amen.

November 14 – “Huh?”

I began listening to a teaching on a link Kel sent me the other day.  I don’t remember the guy’s name, but I made it through about half of the lesson before it got so faint that I couldn’t hear him anymore.  I’m not sure if the problem was computer related or a function of my hearing.  Probably the latter.  There was a lot of background noise at the time.  Here, not on the screen.  Kel’s kids were playing in the other room and I kept drifting off to focus on their games.  I no longer have the ability to comprehend numerous activities at once without all of them melding together into an unintelligible blob of sound.  I have to really focus on one thing at a time, and even then I often make some pretty strange judgments about what I seem to be hearing.  Honestly, a lot of times it would be easier to just retreat from the clatter into the quieter, but at least understandable reaches of my own mind. 

This whole loss of hearing thing has given me some fascinating insight into the world of the elderly who are going through the same thing.  People see them as out of touch, and in a sense they are, but not necessarily because they want to be.  It may just be that they are tired.  For them … OK, for us … the simple act of hearing, which should be an involuntary assumption, is instead a difficult chore that we must work hard at.  So if we appear distant or don’t respond as quickly as you think we should, please cut us some slack.  We may not have heard you at all, or more likely, we are still processing the myriad of sounds, trying our best to make sense out of them.  In my case it has made me feel more confident when I have written something down – hence the blogging.  I greatly prefer an interactive teaching style as a pastor, but I find it more and more difficult to hear the responses from the congregation, process them, and formulate a response.  As a result I spend more time in preparation, trying to anticipate what questions might come up and somehow include the answer in my presentation.  That’s why I type out my sermons as manuscripts now rather than just having a few notes. 

How can you help us hard of hearing folks out?  Make sure we can see your face when you talk.  Get our attention before you speak, by touching us if necessary.  A lot of our clues to the sounds we hear come from watching the shape of your mouth.  We may not be able to just read your lips with no sound at all, but when we combine the verbal and sight clues, we can probably do a pretty good job.  Oh, and please don’t be offended if we ask you to repeat something.  That often means we are getting closer.  We have heard some sounds and we are trying to fit them together into one of the many possibilities that would make sense based on who you are, how we are related, what we know about you, and the situation we are in right now.  And maybe we just need one or two more verbal clues to put us over the top.  See, when you break it all down, hearing is hard work.  Give us some extra time. 

Well, that was quite a rant.  All I planned to do was share some of the things I did hear that guy say, but I think I’ll wait for another time.  Thanks for being patient.

Psalms 54:2 says, “Hear my prayer, O God; listen to the words of my mouth.”

Father, I am so glad you always hear.  Thank you for the miracle that is hearing.  I do appreciate it.  Amen.

November 13 – “Canine condition”

Wait.  What?  I just looked at the Weather Bug icon on the computer.  That can’t be right.  Thirty-six degrees on balmy Galveston Island?  What is this world coming to?  Last time I remember it being that cold was way back when it snowed on Christmas Eve.  When was that, anyway?  Ten years ago?  Just about.  I had to look that one up.  It was in 2004.  First time in history that ever happened.  White Christmas.  Snowmen on the beach.  Crazy stuff.  But it’s not even Thanksgiving yet and we are in the thirties?  I should have known something strange was up when we had forty-six mile per hour wind gusts as the cold front blew through yesterday.  Oh, well.  I guess there is a silver lining or two here.  At least I don’t have to go to water therapy today.  The pool is indoors, but you do have to get back and forth to the car.  And this kind of weather should do wonders for kicking off the flounder run.  Now if I can just find some time to actually go fishing …

Cailyn was in rare form yesterday.  She morphed into a dog for some reason.  Do you know how difficult it is to get a four-year-old little girl stuffed into a dog’s body ready to go to school?  She barked rather than talked (unless she wanted to make sure we understood what the bark was supposed to be signifying).  She picked up her school clothes with her teeth.  She did get them on, though.  I had to remind her that even her dogs at home wear sweaters sometimes.  She did her best to get out of brushing her teeth.  She did her best to convince Nani that brushing teeth was just not something dogs do.  Wrong one to argue with, though.  Nani knows all, and she knew that dogs do indeed brush their teeth.  They just need a little help is all.  And that was my cue.  We traipsed over to the bathroom, where I toothpasted up her brush and handed it to her.  She did the brushing just fine.  She is actually better at it than most four-year-olds I know.  Certainly better than I ever was at four.  Or five.  Or … well, let’s leave that one alone.  Her problem was when it came time to rinse her mouth out.  We were out of the little Dixie cups, but she didn’t want that.  After some tense moments of doggie pantomime I finally figured out what she wanted.  I cupped my hand and filled it with water, and she lapped it up.  Just gotta think like a dog to communicate with one.  Or like a four-year-old pretending to be a dog.  I thought the charade would end when it actually came time to leave the house for school.  What do I know.  She growled playfully, yipped a bit, and walked out to the car … on her hands and knees.  We finally got her buckled into her carseat and headed for school.  I have to admit, I wondered the whole way if she would morph back into Cailyn or if I would be escorting a cute little mongrel puppy to the door.  If that was the case, I wasn’t sure about the campus leash laws, and she wasn’t wearing a collar.  I knew she had had her shots, though, so we were OK there.  As it turned out, with some fast talking and some creative distraction maneuvers, I managed to turn her attention away from the canine world.  But who knows when that strange malady might strike again?  Best be prepared.  Off to WalMart for some doggie treats …

Psalms 119:12 says, “Praise be to you, O Lord; teach me your decrees.”

Father, thank you for the cold weather.  Kind of hard to say that when I really prefer warmth, but you are in control.  Especially of those flounders.  Amen.

November 12 – “Encouragement and embarrassment”

I have been encouraged.  A visitor in church Sunday let me know in an unusual way that they had been to Seaside once before.  It had been several years, but the wife still remembered the Visual Verse we did the day they were there.  She even quoted some of it to me.  She said she keeps it right on her desk and regularly reviews it.  Visual Verses are the pictorial memory tools I often create to help with Scripture memory.  Each one is essentially an expanded rebus, with pictures – wild and crazy pictures – drawn to represent key words or ideas in the Scripture passage.  They are lots of fun to create, and even more fun to present as a challenge to discover which passage it is and where it is found.  It was very encouraging to have someone thank me for encouraging them to learn in a creative, new way. 

And on the other hand, speaking of church Sunday, something else happened that was somewhat unusual.  While I was doing the teaching one of my hearing aid batteries died.  That in itself is not unusual, except for the annoying beeping that it does to alert me to the impending crash of the system.  Fortunately I was able finish out the teaching segment and get over to my briefcase while we were praying.  That’s where my extra batteries are stored.  Unfortunately I apparently inadvertently brushed against my phone, which was also in there.  Now my phone was already set to silent, and I don’t understand what actually happened because I am not tech-savvy enough, but just as we were finishing up the last strains of a soft worship song, and just before we were scheduled to do a congregational reading of the Call to Worship, my phone started playing a song all on its own.  Out of nowhere.  I have to admit that it was somewhat disconcerting.  Certainly unexpected.  I didn’t recognize the song at first, either, so I wasn’t sure where it was coming from.  I suppose I could have played it off as something that was happening on purpose when it finally hit me what song was playing: “Ah, Lord God, Thou hast made the heavens and he earth by thy great power.”  It would have been a perfect lead-in to the Call to Worship.  Of course then I would have had to figure out a smooth way to turn it off before the next song, and I didn’t even know how it came on in the first place.  I hit the automatic shutoff button.  At least I thought it was the automatic shut-off button.  I guess it only works when it’s a phone call coming through.  I double checked the silent mode switch, and it was still set to silent.  Still playing the song.  After a few very long moments during which pretty much everyone in the building had turned toward the new sounds, I confessed that it was my phone, fumbled with the controls, and finally got it to shut off.  Fortunately, Seasiders are a forgiving bunch.  They chose to comment on the fact that the song was appropriate to what we were doing rather than to razz me about my lack of control over the technology entrusted to my care.  Gotta be thankful for that. 

Psalms 119:10-11 says, “I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands.  I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.”

Father, thank you for your word and for forgiveness.  That’s two things I don’t ever want to be without.  Amen.

November 11 – “On sea creatures, kiaradadens, and rocks”

I forgot to mention Micah’s Christmas list he gave me when they were here.  I’m not sure where these desires came from, but he was very specific.  First he wanted a dolphin.  Yep.  A real dolphin.  I asked three times to make sure.  Next on his list was a sea lion.  Maybe he is studying sea life as part of his school.  The third one came a little closer to home.  It was a swimming pool.  Still water related, and still a bit … unexpected.  Then his final wish was a combined one.  He wanted a glass bowl with water in it and some fish food for the glow-in-the-dark fish he was hoping to get.  That’s all.  Just four items total.  How hard can it be, Mom and Dad?  Might take a while for those wishes to come true.

After the boys left on Saturday, Cailyn called to ask if she could spend the night with us.  Why not?  She does like to come over especially on Saturday nights, because she gets to go to church on Sunday.  This time when she arrived I quickly realized that she was here to have a sleepover with Nani.  They played games at the table and on the floor, while Mom and I pretty much watched the football game.  At one point they disappeared for a while, and reappeared to reveal that they were doing a fashion show, and I was the judge or customer or whoever it is that watches fashion shows.  The two of them came in and did some impressive poses.  Cailyn would go first, then insist that Nani do exactly as she had done.  Wish I had that on camera.  She posed on one foot, with both hands out, with her head cocked to the side, with hands on hips.  And occasionally she used her hands to spotlight the jewelry Chris was letting her wear.  Chris made the comment that she hadn’t been in on the beauty pageant circuit since college.  (Yep.  When we were in college she was in the school’s beauty pageant.  Gorgeous then.  Gorgeous now).  All around an impressive performance by both of them.  At one p oint Cailyn asked me for help buttoning up her “kiaradaden.”  Apparently it was actually something called a cardigan, so she was pretty close.  I thought it was a sweater, but what do I know about fashion.

On Sunday morning I was going over my notes for the teaching and the children’s sermon.   Cailyn was in my lap, because she didn’t want to take the chance of me leaving without her.  After asking a hundred or so questions about what I was doing, she reached into her drawer and began working feverishly on a project of her own.  I watched her for a while before asking, “What are you working on?”  She replied, “It’s a picture for the children’s sermon.”  It was a large black object, but she continued, “I’m making a rock picture and I didn’t have gray, so it’s going to be a black rock and you can use it for the children’s sermon.”  OK.  A black rock.  I couldn’t resist.  “So how can we use the rock to tell children about Jesus?  Is Jesus like a rock?”  I know, that’s a leading question, but I was trying to be helpful.  She had an answer right away, though.  “No, DadDad.  Jesus is not a rock.  He makes a rock.  And now I’m making a rock, so I’m Jesus.  I’m like Jesus.  Except I’m not really Jesus, because I’m not in your heart like he is.”  Now I have to admit I was kind of stunned by that one.  Was this a budding theologian here?  I simply nodded my approval and waited.  I could see the wheels were really turning in her brain.  She returned to her picture and added two other ones of different sizes.  Finally she took a deep breath and began her next treatise: “See, now I have a really big rock, and another one that we call ‘large,’ and another one that is just small.  Because Jesus made things all different sizes, and they’re all good because Jesus made them.”  Well, who am I to argue with that?  The kids’ sermon for the day was already set as a lead-in to the main teaching, but I sure didn’t throw away that picture.  And I’m pretty sure I can use it in the future just as it was written.  Maybe she can fill the pulpit for me next time I have to be out of town. 

Genesis 1:31 says, “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning — the sixth day.”

Father, thank you for letting your creatures have a taste of your creativity.  Makes life down here a lot more interesting.  Amen.

November 10 – “Breaking tradition”

Our night with the three Kel Vaughan boys went pretty well.  Jachin coaxed and encouraged me through several rounds of Super Mario Cart on the Wii.  At least I think that’s what is called.  It’s all the race cars with a bunch of different racing venues – penguins on ice (Josiah’s favorite), a rickety old mine, the beach (my favorite, of course), and even somewhere in outer space.  Jachin wins every time, but for some reason he was particularly helpful and even compassionate.  Always helps to be a good winner.  Maybe someday I’ll be good enough to teach him how to be a good loser as well.

In the morning Micah and I snuck out to get some donuts again.  I guess that is becoming one of the traditions for spending the night with Nana and DadDad, like having pizza and watching movies from sleeping bags on the living room floor.  The difference was, this time Jachin was already awake.  Micah even invited him to come along.  He sent us off with his blessings, though.    And when we returned, he and Josiah were both standing at the front door to greet us.  After downing every bite of his dozen donut holes, Josiah came up to me.  I expected him to ask for some juice or chocolate milk or something, but instead he queried, “Can we have cinnamon rolls for breakfast now?”  Ah, yes, another sort of tradition I had forgotten about.  But I had assumed the donut treat trumped the cinnamon rolls.  Silly me.  I decided to try to get inside his three-year-old head for a brief moment, so I asked, “Weren’t the donuts breakfast?”  Looking up at me with that pity-mixed-with-amusement-at-the-utter-absurdity-of-old-people look, he sighed.  And with a shake of his head and just the hint of a grin on his face, he tolerantly replied, “No.  Those were just sugar.”  Indeed. 

Fortunately I was able to pass the whole cinnamon roll request onto Nana’s shoulders, and she wasn’t out of bed yet.  Interestingly enough, when she did get up, it was Micah who approached her about the cinnamon rolls.  She announced that we actually didn’t have any cinnamon rolls to fix, and fortunately they were fine with that.  Guess we have to remember what it was like to have three growing boys in the house. 

Psalms 119:9 says, “How can a young man keep his way pure?  By living according to your word.”

Father, help all six of our grandsons keep their way pure.  Oh, and our two little granddaughters as well.  Amen.

November 9 – “Double feature”

One thing about living on a tropical island … you have to do yard work almost year round.  I know.  Galveston is not “officially” a tropical island, and we really do have a stretch of maybe three months where we don’t have to do yard work, but it does feel kind of strange to be mowing the yard when the temperature is in the fifties.  In the midst of my complaining, however, I must hasten to say that if I have to be doing yard work, it is sure a lot more comfortable when the temperature is cooler and the humidity is less that ninety percent.  I edged the front and back, too.  Oh, and I edged the sidewalk all the way through the empty lot next door.  I just want folks (read here grandchildren) to be able to walk (or ride scooters or run or chase errant baseballs) through there without dodging stickerburs all along the way.    That meant I also did a bit of trimming of the oleander again.  Sorry, Betty Head.  She the super oleander woman on the island.  Also happens to be Mom’s best friend.  Chris also gave me permission to clean out the flower bed in the front yard.  Why did I need permission?  Well, I’m never sure what time of year you are supposed to do stuff like that.  As far as I’m concerned, this falls into the same category as fishing.  The best time to do it is when you can.  And so it is done.  And so I am about as sore as I have been since I started exercising at water therapy.  Does feel kind of good, though, in an ex-athlete, sense of accomplishment kind of way.

Around four thirty our overnight guests arrived.  Kel and Christina did a date night, so all their boys stayed with us.  Not Noa, though.  She stayed with Mama in case she got hungry.  The plan for the evening?  At one point Chris and Micah were playing Connect Four.  Jachin was poring over the WalMart Christmas circular (yes, it is already out).  Josiah and I were watching a movie – The Ice Age.  Well, he was watching it.  I was actively dozing on the couch next to him.  Hmm.  I just thought about that.  I slept through The Ice Age.  Chuckle here.  It’s not exactly a cartoon, so I lasted longer than normal, but animation combined with extreme tiredness is a recipe for dreamland for this old dude.  We ended up watching a double feature.  When the boys all got ready for bed we watched another animation classic.  I think it was called Bee Story.  I did a little better staying awake for that one.  Interesting premise.  Bee meets a human (female, of course.  It’s all part of the attempt to appeal to all ages).  Human teaches bee about the ways of her world.  Bee discovers horrifying world of honey manufacturing.  Bee sues the world of humans for stealing all their honey.  Will he win his case?  What will happen if he does?  Will he be forced to sting someone along the way?  And if he does, will he really die?  Too many questions to answer.  Besides, I don’t want to spoil it for you if haven’t seen it.  Ice Age.  Bee Story.  I think I’ve had my quota of animation for the next decade or so.  I’m ready for something different … Ender’s Game … Hobbit 2 … Thor …  Hunger Games 2 …

Psalms 119:4-5 says, “You have laid down precepts that are to be fully obeyed.  Oh, that my ways were steadfast in obeying your decrees!”

Father, thank you for all of our young ones.  Guide them as they discover and learn to obey your precepts.  Amen.