July 31 – “Yellow hat”

I spent yesterday morning at Seaside sitting in on some classes taught by the Texas Baptist Disaster Relief Team.  They call it yellow cap training, because after you complete it, you are eligible to wear a yellow cap.  Interesting motivation, huh?  The chance to be just like Curious George’s proverbial best friend.  Actually, the yellow cap is a symbol that you have been through the preparation to participate in serving people in areas that have been hit by a disaster like a hurricane or fire.  I figured it might come in handy living here in Galveston.  Might get me home quicker if we have another storm like Hurricane Ike.  I can put on my yellow hat and come in with the aid workers. 

This was the first phase of the training.  It was more of an introduction to the group than anything else.  They went through the history of the organization.  Interestingly enough, they trace their history to the 1900 Storm in Galveston.  A guy named R.C. Buckner came to the island and rescued 100 orphans and 26 crippled children.  Now the group concentrates more on the process of providing aid to victims in getting back into their homes.  The rest of the training comes later.  I have to decide on some kind of specialty training.  That means choosing from areas like chainsaw or food distribution or water purification.  I’ll have to find somewhere to get that training.  Then I have to actually go somewhere and do the stuff.  As I understand it, that doesn’t mean I have to seek out a disaster somewhere.  For example, there is a group at Seaside now who invited us all Sunday to eat with them.  They are practicing food distribution.  Honestly I was most interested in the water purification.  That’s one I hadn’t heard of before, and it sure would be a helpful thing after a hurricane.  Think I’ll look into that one. 

We also had another neighborhood association meeting last night.  This time our city council representative was back, but she brought along some guests of her own.  The chief of police was there to answer questions about safety and tell us how to wade through some of the red tape involved in reporting suspicious activity.  She also invited the assistant city manager.  Come to find out, he grew up in our neighborhood.  And his parents still live here.  So do his in-laws.  He jokingly said the best way to get his attention is to call his mother-in-law.  If she wants something done, he jumps to it.  Otherwise, he said, she would “get on her broom and take care of it herself.”  Frightening image for him, I’m sure.  Our next meeting will be one where we invite the whole neighborhood to gather and discuss how to pull off a huge neighbor’s night out in October.  That’s when Texas does the National Night Out, since it gets so hot here.  We’ll talk about some safety stuff, too.  I’m excited about the whole developing relationships thing.  I’d like to have the same kind of neighborhood we did while I was growing up.  My Mom and Dad worked hard to get it that way.  Guess it’s our turn.

Psalms 18:32 says, “It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect.”

Father, thank you for the legacy Mom and Dad left me.  Help me to create a nice one for my kids and the kids of the neighborhood as well.  Amen.

July 30 – “You got me”

I love surprises.  Well, of course I mean good ones.  And I had a really good one waiting for me when I got to church Sunday morning.  I’m usually the first one there.  I have to get the computer loaded and ready for the Pastor’s class that I teach at 9:00.  It took me a bit longer than usual to get inside yesterday because I went over and said hello to some of the folks staying in our building this week.  Among the mission action teams there was also a group from the Texas Baptist Disaster Relief Team.  They are doing some training and have set up in our parking lot.  After exchanging pleasantries I finally entered the worship center and surprise number one greeted me.  The entire room had been decorated with balloons and streamers and a letter banner across the front that read “Happy 16^th Anniversary Seaside.”  Great surprise. 

I continued with my Sunday morning routine, making coffee, loading the Visual Verse for the day, setting up the power point for the class.  The folks from the disaster relief team began coming in, as did our Seasiders, and the mingling and sharing was fun to watch.  In fact I scrapped the teaching plan for the day in favor of letting it continue.  People were talking about ministry and life experiences they had had, and plans in the works for where they were heading next.  Most assuredly more valuable than Introduction to Church History 101. 

More and more people gathered, from the ministry team, an array of visitors, and of course, more Seasiders.  By the time we began, the room was pretty full.  We started with our usual intro song, and I began my welcome.  And that was the occasion of surprise number two.  I wanted to explain the balloons and decorations to the visitors, so I casually remarked that it was the 16^th anniversary celebration of Seaside’s being constituted as a church.  And when I said the word “anniversary” everyone in the room (except me, of course), pulled out one of those loud, obnoxious noise makers like you see on New Year’s Eve and blasted me with honks and squeals and blurts and squawks.  It sounded like somebody opened the door on one of those concerts where you can’t understand any of the words and the music doesn’t make much sense either, but it is ... loud.  Gotta admit, you got me on that one.  Later on my friend Jim called to mind a little surprise of my own that I pulled the first time I ever preached at Seaside.  I stood on my head at the podium and asked, “What did you expect when you came to church today?”  The only answer I got came from the back of the room, “Not that.”  Jim knowingly asked me that question, and I responded with a “not that” of my own. 

The third surprise came at lunch.  The disaster relief folks invited everyone to stick around for lunch.  Come to find out, the Seaside instigators of the surprise had already planned a lunch, so they pooled resources.  As we enjoyed hot dogs and cold cut sandwiches, Jennifer showed up with an anniversary cake.  Very cool.  It even had an edible Seaside logo on it.  And as she pointed out, she didn’t even drop it as she walked down the stairs (although that would have certainly added to the “surprise” theme).  Rita led everyone in a rousing chorus of “Happy Anniversary, dear SeasideandPastorKelleyandMamaChris.”  Great day.  Great surprises.  You got me.

Psalms 18:31 says, “For who is God besides the Lord?  And who is the Rock except our God?”

Father, thank you for our Seaside family.  Now help me come up with a new way to surprise them.  Amen.

July 29 - "Very Pink"

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this wedding stuff.  I don’t mean the ceremony and the whole concept.  God set up and I am totally in his corner.  I’m talking about color schemes and dress styles – things like that.  We made the trek to Tomball again last night for the wedding of a guy who was on my basketball team many years ago.  Great kid and he’s turned out to be a really fine young man.  Nathan was his best man, and a few of the others guys on the old basketball team were there to show their support. 

After getting Mom situated with a good friend who agreed to hang out with her while we went to the wedding, we headed out.  We did have to make a quick stop at Target to pick up a gift card to give them, and traffic wasn’t quite as bad as it was the night before, but we were still among the last to arrive.  And the first ones we saw were Nathan and Phil, the groom.  They looked very nice in tuxedos, but the boutonnieres were, well, very pink.  And as we got closer we saw that their vests and ties were also very pink.  I sensed a disturbing trend.  The wedding coordinator saw me and approached me with a wad of very pink all my very own.  She did give me the option to pass.  That’s she said it.  “Would you like to pass?”  Now I have learned that weddings are there for the bride.  No one else, really.  If she wants me to wear a huge very pink flower, I will wear a huge very pink flower.  But I did take the opportunity to act on the question.  I took it from her hands and said, “You mean we can play football with it?”  Nathan understood right away.  As I drew back to make the toss, he held his hands up like an NFL split end to receive the pass.  I didn’t really throw it, though.  Chris was standing right there.  I dutifully allowed the very pink thing to be clipped to my coat. 

As it turned out, pink was just the accent color.  When the bridesmaids came down the stairs they were dressed in black with very pink ribbons.  And the flower girl came down dressed in … something.  It was all black and it poofed out all over her tiny little body.  I mean really poofed.  It looked like something was inside it with her.  Frightening.  And across her chest were more of those very pink flowers.  The bride even wrapped a very pink ribbon around her waist.  One would think that she liked the color.  But, you know, in spite of my inherent aversion to very pink things, it seemed to work with all the black. 

I did manage to pull off somewhat of a dance move.  Well, it didn’t really have the flair that I had hoped for.  As I led the guys down the aisle toward the front I reached the spot where the coordinator had instructed everyone but me to pause for a picture.  There I did a quick spin move and pointed at the groom.  He was supposed to do something similar.  It looked great in my head.  But remember this is my head.  As I got back around to facing front I realized that I had misjudged the distance.  I was no longer on the path, but instead made a slight detour into the grass.  I didn’t fall down, though.  Acted like it was all part of my plan.  It was a very … pink move. 

Psalms 18:30 says, “As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the Lord is flawless.  He is a shield for all who take refuge in him.”

Father, walk with Phil and Valerie.  Draw them to yourself.  They need you.  Amen.

July 29 – “Very pink”

 

 

I don't think I'll ever get used to this wedding stuff.  I don't mean the ceremony and the whole concept.  God set up and I am totally in his corner.  I'm talking about color schemes and dress styles – things like that.  We made the trek to Tomball again last night for the wedding of a guy who was on my basketball team many years ago.  Great kid and he's turned out to be a really fine young man.  Nathan was his best man, and a few of the others guys on the old basketball team were there to show their support. 

 

After getting Mom situated with a good friend who agreed to hang out with her while we went to the wedding, we headed out.  We did have to make a quick stop at Target to pick up a gift card to give them, and traffic wasn't quite as bad as it was the night before, but we were still among the last to arrive.  And the first ones we saw were Nathan and Phil, the groom.  They looked very nice in tuxedos, but the boutonnieres were, well, very pink.  And as we got closer we saw that their vests and ties were also very pink.  I sensed a disturbing trend.  The wedding coordinator saw me and approached me with a wad of very pink all my very own.  She did give me the option to pass.  That's she said it.  "Would you like to pass?"  Now I have learned that weddings are there for the bride.  No one else, really.  If she wants me to wear a huge very pink flower, I will wear a huge very pink flower.  But I did take the opportunity to act on the question.  I took it from her hands and said, "You mean we can play football with it?"  Nathan understood right away.  As I drew back to make the toss, he held his hands up like an NFL split end to receive the pass.  I didn't really throw it, though.  Chris was standing right there.  I dutifully allowed the very pink thing to be clipped to my coat. 

 

As it turned out, pink was just the accent color.  When the bridesmaids came down the stairs they were dressed in black with very pink ribbons.  And the flower girl came down dressed in … something.  It was all black and it poofed out all over her tiny little body.  I mean really poofed.  It looked like something was inside it with her.  Frightening.  And across her chest were more of those very pink flowers.  The bride even wrapped a very pink ribbon around her waist.  One would think that she liked the color.  But, you know, in spite of my inherent aversion to very pink things, it seemed to work with all the black. 

 

I did manage to pull off somewhat of a dance move.  Well, it didn't really have the flair that I had hoped for.  As I led the guys down the aisle toward the front I reached the spot where the coordinator had instructed everyone but me to pause for a picture.  There I did a quick spin move and pointed at the groom.  He was supposed to do something similar.  It looked great in my head.  But remember this is my head.  As I got back around to facing front I realized that I had misjudged the distance.  I was no longer on the path, but instead made a slight detour into the grass.  I didn't fall down, though.  Acted like it was all part of my plan.  It was a very … pink move. 

 

Psalms 18:30 says, "As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the Lord is flawless.  He is a shield for all who take refuge in him."

 

Father, walk with Phil and Valerie.  Draw them to yourself.  They need you.  Amen.

July 28 – “The coordinator and the Littles”

Yesterday began with yard work and ended with a trip to Tomball.  The yard work part was not bad.  It’s just been a while since we had to mow once a week, so we decided to try to stay on top of things.  Glad we did.  The grass was already pretty thick, and I hopped the fence again to run the weedeater on the fence line next door.  We started at 8 a.m. this time, though, hoping it wouldn’t be quite so unbearably hot.  Glad we did.  By the time we stopped around ten or so, I was drenched with sweat and was probably on the verge of a little heat exhaustion.  I pounded down three or four glasses of water and crashed in the air conditioning for an hour and was as good as … well, not as good as new.  Maybe as good as I was going in. 

The trip to Tomball was for a wedding rehearsal.  Nathan and I rode together.  I’m sure he thinks that was a ruse so I wouldn’t have to drive, but I really did enjoy hanging out with him.  I didn’t even sleep the whole way like I expected to.  Nathan is the best man for the wedding and I’m the officiant.  Officiant.  That sounds so … official.  Microsoft Word doesn’t seem to like the word.  It has one of those squiggly red lines under it.  All it means is that I get to do the “I now pronounce you husband and wife” honors.  Oh, and sign the marriage license.  It’s not like I have any say over what happens during the ceremony.  They have a wedding coordinator for that.  And this particular wedding coordinator had me pining for the ones I work with at the San Luis Hotel in Galveston.  She was … in control of the situation.  There are not many people who can talk so fast that it is almost impossible to even interject a question here and there.  By the time she took a breath, she had moved seven steps beyond what you were wondering about.  Not that you could suggest a change or anything.  It was her way or the highway.  We were instructed on how fast to walk, where to pause for pictures (except for me and the tiny little boy involved.  We don’t have to pause), how to hold our hands, where to stand, how to walk, when to come back for pictures, and most importantly - not to pick our noses (or certain other parts of our anatomy.  Actually that instruction was specifically directed at “The Littles” – her word for the children involved.  Nathan was excited when he realized that.  He got in the only real zinger of the rehearsal when he noted out loud that he was glad the instruction didn’t apply to him.  Guess he had some excavating plans in mind).  She was certainly efficient.  The groom’s Mom asked me at the dinner if I would consider dancing down the aisle when I entered just to loosen things up a bit.  Hope the entry music is upbeat.  I can feel the moves coming on …

Psalms 18:29 says, “With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall.”

 

Father, come to this wedding with us tonight.  Lots of people there need to meet you.  Amen.

July 28 – “The coordinator and the Littles”

 

 

Yesterday began with yard work and ended with a trip to Tomball.  The yard work part was not bad.  It's just been a while since we had to mow once a week, so we decided to try to stay on top of things.  Glad we did.  The grass was already pretty thick, and I hopped the fence again to run the weedeater on the fence line next door.  We started at 8 a.m. this time, though, hoping it wouldn't be quite so unbearably hot.  Glad we did.  By the time we stopped around ten or so, I was drenched with sweat and was probably on the verge of a little heat exhaustion.  I pounded down three or four glasses of water and crashed in the air conditioning for an hour and was as good as … well, not as good as new.  Maybe as good as I was going in. 

 

The trip to Tomball was for a wedding rehearsal.  Nathan and I rode together.  I'm sure he thinks that was a ruse so I wouldn't have to drive, but I really did enjoy hanging out with him.  I didn't even sleep the whole way like I expected to.  Nathan is the best man for the wedding and I'm the officiant.  Officiant.  That sounds so … official.  Microsoft Word doesn't seem to like the word.  It has one of those squiggly red lines under it.  All it means is that I get to do the "I now pronounce you husband and wife" honors.  Oh, and sign the marriage license.  It's not like I have any say over what happens during the ceremony.  They have a wedding coordinator for that.  And this particular wedding coordinator had me pining for the ones I work with at the San Luis Hotel in Galveston.  She was … in control of the situation.  There are not many people who can talk so fast that it is almost impossible to even interject a question here and there.  By the time she took a breath, she had moved seven steps beyond what you were wondering about.  Not that you could suggest a change or anything.  It was her way or the highway.  We were instructed on how fast to walk, where to pause for pictures (except for me and the tiny little boy involved.  We don't have to pause), how to hold our hands, where to stand, how to walk, when to come back for pictures, and most importantly - not to pick our noses (or certain other parts of our anatomy.  Actually that instruction was specifically directed at "The Littles" – her word for the children involved.  Nathan was excited when he realized that.  He got in the only real zinger of the rehearsal when he noted out loud that he was glad the instruction didn't apply to him.  Guess he had some excavating plans in mind).  She was certainly efficient.  The groom's Mom asked me at the dinner if I would consider dancing down the aisle when I entered just to loosen things up a bit.  Hope the entry music is upbeat.  I can feel the moves coming on …

 

Psalms 18:29 says, "With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall."

 

Father, come to this wedding with us tonight.  Lots of people there need to meet you.  Amen.

July 27 - "the really tall guy

I have just one further word about the whole “meeting with Big Bird” thing.  I was never a big Sesame Street fan.  My childhood television consisted more of Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Green Jeans.  Mr. Caboose made some inroads, but I never liked Kitirick.  She was a lady dressed like a black cat with cat make-up on her face and some kind of cat whiskers.  Scary stuff.  I still don’t like cats.  Maybe she’s why.  They were all better than cartoons, though.  At least they were real people.  That’s why I loved the old Superman TV show.  He was real.  Black and white, but real.  My favorite episode was the one when Krypton blew up and baby Kal-el was sent to earth.  Josh gave me the whole first season on a DVD not long ago.  Love it. 

But back to Sesame Street.  Kel was a big fan.  He liked the constant movement, changing from one thing to the next in a heartbeat.  When Josh came along he was more of a Mr. Rogers kid.  Me, too.  He preferred the slower moving approach, the idea of being laid back.  That’s why he did so well in Galveston.  Nathan couldn’t sit still long enough to watch any of them.  He was outside finding new and better ways to climb on the roof or into trees so he would have a better vantage point to plan future roller blade jumps.  He got so used to being up there that he forgot about satellite planning angle for jumps off the ground.  Instead he just jumped off the roof. 

I don’t think Cailyn watches Sesame Street much, either.  When we tried to get her to tell her Mom about the whole incredibly exciting adventure, it went something like this:

Chris: “Tell Mommy who we saw today.”

Mommy (who already knew because I texted her a photo): “Did you see somebody special today?”

Cailyn: “Aunt Stina.” (Christina and Josiah were at the library as well).

Chris: “Who else did we see?”       

Cailyn: “Josiah.”  (See, her priorities are like mine – real people).

Chris: “But who was the really tall person?”                                                 

Cailyn: (quizzical look as if to say “What in the world are you talking about?”)

Chris: “You remember.  He was this tall (stretching as high as she could), and he was yellow and had feathers?”

Cailyn: “Oh.  That was Sessom Sweet.” 

Sessom Sweet.  Sesame Street.  Sounds close enough to me.  And thanks to the miracle of iphones we do have some pictures to commemorate the event. 

Psalms 18:28 says, “You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.”

Father, I really like that thought – you keep my lamp burning.  If that’s the case then I don’t have to stress about doing it myself.  Amen.

July 27 – “The really tall guy”

 

 

I have just one further word about the whole "meeting with Big Bird" thing.  I was never a big Sesame Street fan.  My childhood television consisted more of Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Green Jeans.  Mr. Caboose made some inroads, but I never liked Kitirick.  She was a lady dressed like a black cat with cat make-up on her face and some kind of cat whiskers.  Scary stuff.  I still don't like cats.  Maybe she's why.  They were all better than cartoons, though.  At least they were real people.  That's why I loved the old Superman TV show.  He was real.  Black and white, but real.  My favorite episode was the one when Krypton blew up and baby Kal-el was sent to earth.  Josh gave me the whole first season on a DVD not long ago.  Love it. 

 

But back to Sesame Street.  Kel was a big fan.  He liked the constant movement, changing from one thing to the next in a heartbeat.  When Josh came along he was more of a Mr. Rogers kid.  Me, too.  He preferred the slower moving approach, the idea of being laid back.  That's why he did so well in Galveston.  Nathan couldn't sit still long enough to watch any of them.  He was outside finding new and better ways to climb on the roof or into trees so he would have a better vantage point to plan future roller blade jumps.  He got so used to being up there that he forgot about satellite planning angle for jumps off the ground.  Instead he just jumped off the roof. 

 

I don't think Cailyn watches Sesame Street much, either.  When we tried to get her to tell her Mom about the whole incredibly exciting adventure, it went something like this:

Chris: "Tell Mommy who we saw today."

Mommy (who already knew because I texted her a photo): "Did you see somebody special today?"

Cailyn: "Aunt Stina." (Christina and Josiah were at the library as well).

Chris: "Who else did we see?"       

Cailyn: "Josiah."  (See, her priorities are like mine – real people).

Chris: "But who was the really tall person?"                                                 

Cailyn: (quizzical look as if to say "What in the world are you talking about?")

Chris: "You remember.  He was this tall (stretching as high as she could), and he was yellow and had feathers?"

Cailyn: "Oh.  That was Sessom Sweet." 

 

Sessom Sweet.  Sesame Street.  Sounds close enough to me.  And thanks to the miracle of iphones we do have some pictures to commemorate the event. 

 

Psalms 18:28 says, "You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light."

 

Father, I really like that thought – you keep my lamp burning.  If that's the case then I don't have to stress about doing it myself.  Amen.

July 26 - "A True American Icon"

Yesterday I was among the privileged few granted the once in a lifetime opportunity to be in the presence of a true American icon.  That doesn’t usually happen in Galveston.  At least not any more.  I have read about all the big name stars and political figures who used to come to the island.  I understand it was Clara Barton who suggested the “half” streets here.  The Balinese room brought a lot of famous entertainers: Frank Sinatra, Spike Jones, Vaughn Monroe, Duke Ellington, Edgar Bergen and Alice Faye.  I’ve heard of three of those.  I guess the others are just as famous, just not in my circles.  I just looked up some of the famous people who were born here.  Gail Borden.  Yep, the milk guy.  Jack Johnson.  That’s the boxer.  King Vidor.  He was a movie director from long ago.  Douglas “Wrong Way” Corrigan.  That’s a fun one to have in our legacy.  Casey Hampton.  Gotta have at least one pro football player.  Brandon Backe.  That would be a pro baseball player.  There have been a few of those, including two guys I went to high school with, Adrian Devine and Bo Quiroga.  Kay Bailey Hutchison.  That would be our politician.  Liana Liberato.  She is a little girl actress who actually used to come to Seaside.  I think there were a few presidents who came through back when Galveston was the big time place to be in Texas.  Not that it’s no longer the place to be.  Oh, and I remember going to a local sporting goods store when I was a kid and meeting Lefty Gomez, the New York Yankees pitching star from the olden days.  I even got him to sign a baseball card I had of him.  Still have it. 

So the superstar I met yesterday is in some amazing company.  He ranks, in fact, right up there with the lady I met the other day at the library.  Now she was a real superstar.  Mother Goose.  Have I kept you in suspense long enough?  Here it comes.  The star of children’s public television the world over … Big Bird.

Psalms 18:25-27 says, “To the faithful you show yourself faithful, to the blameless you show yourself blameless, to the pure you show yourself pure, but to the crooked you show yourself shrewd.  You save the humble but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.”

Father, I guess from those verses it’s a big deal to ask you to show yourself, but could you do it in spite of us?  Amen.

July 25 – “Workday frenzy”

 

 

Yesterday I underwent one of those workday frenzies like I used to have all the time way back when I was much younger and had much more stamina.  I started around 6:30 and rarely stopped until after 5:30.  The biggest part of the day I spent creating a church history teaching for the pastor's class we started before church on Sundays.  That meant digging through two different church history books as well as two online world history sources.  Then I had to put all of it together in some kind of presentable order.  A lot of that I had already done in the days preceding this marathon.  The daunting task facing me now is coming up with a powerpoint presentation to go along with the teaching.  I don't want to just lecture for 45 minutes.  I want to have something to look at that will spark some discussion.  Of course, the group that has been coming to the class up to this point is not afraid of creating their own discussion topics.  But the pictures and information on the screens may help me bring them back to the task at hand when needed.  Maybe.

 

I also finally got a call back from the church's lawyer.  Several years ago we gave some folks permission to use the church property to graze their horses.  That has morphed over the years into a full blown horse riding rental outfit.  The business aspect on our property changes a lot with regard to insurance liability, so the lawyers want to talk to the business owner and set up a lease agreement.  I have to go out there today and set up a time for the telephone chat.  Hopefully they will see something like this coming and be amenable to the proposal. 

 

The other excitement yesterday was interspersed throughout the day.  Its name was Cailyn.  Her dad was at work and her mom was doing clinicals for nursing school up at St. Joseph's Hospital in Houston.  She has been really good at letting me work when she's here, but every so often she can't stand it and needs a little DadDad fix.  I think Chris puts her up to it as a ruse to get me to walk around a little bit.  She's always looking out for my creaky old rheumatic bones.  I love that woman. 

 

Psalms 18:1-2 says, "I love you, O Lord, my strength.  The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.  He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."

 

Father, help us get this lease thing taken care of so we can concentrate on you again.  Amen.

July 24 – “Where ice cream, Nana?”

 

 

Josiah stayed with us for a while yesterday while his mom shopped for school books (they are homeschooling), and his dad and two older brothers went to baseball camp.  As soon as his dad left Josiah began trolling for ice cream.  He is two years old now, so he can open our freezer to check things out.  It's one of those built into the bottom of the refrigerator instead of at the top. But we didn't have any ice cream.  And he was horrified.  He is talking a lot now so that's where he began, "Where ice cream, Nana?  Ice cream gone gone, Nana?  Need ice cream, Nana."  So of course … we went to WalMart.  Actually we had to go anyway.  The handle broke off of our toilet, and we were getting kind of tired of lifting the lid and reaching into the water every time to grab the chain and flush it.  So after we dropped Mom off at Libbie's Place, we went to WalMart.  As we walked toward the front door, Chris explained our rule to Josiah.  "You have a choice: get in and ride in the basket, hold onto the basket as you walk around, or hold one of our hands.  He selected the final option.  And, in the spirit of the third verse of I'm a Nut, he held his own hand.  He even held it up so we could see what he was doing.  And as long as he held onto it he stayed close to the basket.  When he let go, he began to drift away.  Or run away as he did once.  He took off hollering, "I so fast.  Watch me."  All it took, though, was Chris reminding him, "Hold a hand, Josiah," and he would look down at his hands.  A sheepish look would come over his face, and, "slap," together they would go.  He'd hold them up once again with a look of victory.  Attaboy, Josiah.  Oh, in case you were wondering what's the third verse of I'm a Nut:

                            Took me out to a movie show.                   

                            Stayed too late and said let's go.

                            Grabbed my hand and led me out.

                            Drove me home and gave a shout.

                            I'm a Nut.  I'm a Nut.  I'm a Nut, I'm a Nut, I'm a Nut

And we got our ice cream.

 

Psalms 17:14 says, "You still the hunger of those you cherish; their sons have plenty, and they store up wealth for their children."

 

Father, help me be one of those you cherish.  I want my sons and grandsons and granddaughter to have plenty of ice cream.  Amen.

July 23 – “Fishing”

 

 

I finally went fishing yesterday.  And as a result I can tell that I haven't been nearly enough this summer.  Otherwise there is no reason I would have offered myself up to such unrelenting abuse as I underwent in the surf.  The waves were really rough.  Now, I have been when it was rough before, but that's usually when a friend is in from out of town who wants to go and we are on a tight schedule to get it in.  I mean, one of the perks of living in Galveston is I have access to the beach at all times, right?  I can go fishing any time the surf is calm, right?  I wish that were the case.  I guess it would be if I was retired and had nothing else to do.  But I do have fit in things like a sermon or two, a weekly Bible study or two, the occasional wedding ceremony, keeping our checkbook balanced, counseling sessions, and meetings here and there.  Not to mention spending time with my wife and grandkids.  And helping take care of Mom.  What would a vacation look like, anyway?  I vaguely recall those few days back right after Chris' Mom died.  Arkansas, I think it was. 

 

But go fishing I did, in spite of the choppy waves.  And I managed to get some of the best bait I have had ion a long time.  The shrimp were just the perfect size.  It's so rare to get that magical combination of just the right bait and great water conditions.  I guess one for two gave me some hope.  I did catch some fish.  Started out with a run of those evil hardhead catfish that are so hard to shake off the line.  There were some big ones, so I did have some fun reeling them in.  I don't eat hardhead catfish, though.  It's not that I didn't get any bites.  The little varmints were feasting on every cast.  I finally managed to reel in a really good sized speckled trout.  That at least made the trip worth going.  I kept one other whiting and also a croaker that will be good for future bait. 

 

I'm more than a little bit sore today.  I guess that will help me remember to call the rheumatologist and schedule a day when I can go in and get "the shot."  That's the next step in treatment.  They said I could come in for the first one and let them show me how to do it myself with a sample dose.  That shows why I haven't called yet.  Somehow I just can't get excited about learning how to give myself a shot.  I know people do it all the time, but this is me.  At least one of the options is monthly.  Think I'll go with that one.

 

Psalms 17:8-9 says, "Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings from the wicked who assail me, from my mortal enemies who surround me."

 

Father, I know there are no mortal enemies assailing me right now, but I really like the "apple of your eye" and "shadow of your wings" ideas.  Amen.

July 22 – “Hitching without a hitch”

 

 

Ah, weddings.  Gotta love 'em.  The one I had on the beach last night apparently had some drama attached that began the night before.  We did fine at the rehearsal.  I met several of the bride and groom's friends.  The best man concerned me.  He was the groom's brother, and he was a big boy.  Very muscular.  Used to work as a bouncer.  He had tattoos all over his body.  Quite a few of them were, well … distracting.  But the one that bothered me was a pentagram tattooed on his chest right under his throat.  Made me wonder how it was going to go when I presented the gospel at the ceremony.  As it turned out he was a really nice guy.  He stayed interested in what I was saying and did a good job of encouraging his brother.

 

But the night before the wedding, after we had finished the rehearsal, one of the guys I met didn't have such a good night.  The groom told me that he had a problem with alcohol and had been drinking all day.  His girlfriend had returned to their hotel to pick up something, and he apparently felt abandoned, because when she returned he went ballistic.  He was screaming at her and calling her all sorts of names.  There was no calming him down.  Finally he made the mistake of shoving her to the ground.  The groom's brother, tattoo guy… bouncer guy, stepped in to keep the violence from escalating any further, and the drunk guy took a swing.  That was all it took for the brother to go into bouncer mode.  In seconds he had the guy in a headlock and down on the ground.  The groom managed to get them separated, but the drunk guy ended up in jail for assault.  Not so great a relational start for something that is supposed to be a celebration of relationship. 

 

The wedding went off really well, though.  We were supposed to start around sundown.  Love that island time.  So specific.  We kind of set 7:30 as a baseline, but me and one other guy were the only ones there by then.  He and I were joking about the sno cone truck's music serving as the wedding march.  I think it was playing The Entertainer.  He left before we got started, though.  I think we finally got going around eight.  That was after we had to move the front row of chairs to the back because the tide was coming in.  We ended up having water trickling under our feet throughout the service, which was actually kind of cool.  Literally, cool.  Everybody in the wedding party was barefoot or in sandals anyway.  The wind was blowing pretty hard, so I really had to project to be heard.  A truck pulled up and parked next to where we were set up.  They were ready to party on the beach, too.  Very loud Latin beat music.  The groom approached them quite nicely, though, and asked if they could turn it down during the wedding.  They agreed happily, congratulated him, and baited their hooks.  I was jealous.  So other than the bride's little baby starting to cry when she saw her mommy, the hitching went off without a hitch. 

 

Psalms 17:6-7 says, "I call on you, O God, for you will answer me; give ear to me and hear my prayer.  Show the wonder of your great love, you who save by your right hand those who take refuge in you from their foes."

 

Father, walk with the couple from last night in their life together and draw them to you.  And touch the guy who ended up in jail.  Amen.

July 21 – “Dollar dilemma”

 

 

I decided against going fishing yesterday.  And today.  The beach is just too choppy and the wind is pretty strong.  Yesterday I ended up mowing the grass instead.  It's a lot easier to do when it's only been a week between mowings.  That's the down side of having a nice looking lawn, I guess.  But Chris seems to be happy with it, and when Momma's happy, everybody's happy.

 

I also trimmed the oleander bush in the front yard.  We couldn't see very well to back out of the driveway, and it was blocking the sidewalk.  That made it a safety issue, right?  I'm working on my excuses to use in case Betty Head realizes I cut it during the wrong season.  She's the ultimate oleander guru for the Galveston Oleander Society. 

 

I also did some weeding in the front flower bed.  I didn't really intend to, but there were some of those weeds in there that have little tiny seeds that stick to your legs and arms and hair when you brush by them.  They are right up there just under stickerburs in my list of "not-allowed's" in the yard.  I was just going to pull a few of them up because they were hanging near where we park the car.  I hit a snag, though.  I couldn't get to the roots until I pulled a boatload of dollar grass out of the way.  That stuff grows everywhere.  The only good thing is that it doesn't have stickers or annoying seeds.  By the time Chris got back from taking Mom to Libbie's Place I was knee-deep in dollar grass and periwinkles.  She joined me.  So as it turned out, we had a chance to spend some time together.  Just a little different from taking in a movie or going out to eat.

 

When we finished the flower bed I decided that I just had to try out the power tool Nathan brought over.  April read in my blog that I was doing some chair refinishing, and she knew that he had a palm sander.  So he thought I might want to give it a try.  It's a power tool.  Why would I not want to use it?  Arr.  Arr.  Arr.  Is there a power tool for pulling up dollar grass?

 

Sounds like I got a lot done.  Definitely feels like it.  My joints are really aching today.  But I have all day to get loosened up in time for the beach wedding I have tonight at sunset.  So what can I do to get these old muscles and joints lubricated and moving again?  I'll start with another cup of coffee.  Maybe something will come to me.

 

Psalms 16:11 says, "You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand."

 

Father, thank you for that path of life insight.  It sure would be tough to make it without Jesus.  Amen.