January 31 – “It’s gone”

Well, I woke up early this morning.  I knew I had to meet the bug guy at church at 8, so my body kindly aroused the rest of me at 5:15.  That’s all right, though.  As a result I got to see the Monstrous Multicolored Moon, or whatever it is they call it.  Imagine my surprise when, about an hour later, I glanced out the window and half of it was missing.  An eclipse.  Oh, I heard there was going to be one, but I thought you had to be in Hawaii to see it.  I quickly woke Chris up to experience this phenomenon with me.  Yeah.  Not her favorite thing in the world, getting up at 6:30.  But she did it.  Her incredible love for her husband and the appeal of the unusual, not necessarily in that order, were more than she could stand, however.  She struggled through her distaste of the wee morning hours and joined me on the deck of the empty house next door.  we watched until the full moon was enveloped in the nothingness of shadows.  Just as it disappeared, a flock of birds flew across our line of sight.  Beautiful stuff.  Very romantic.  I hoped to see at least the sliver of its return, but by that time it was too far down on the horizon to see past the neighbor’s house.  Our moon memories would have to suffice.

We did our grandparently duty as well.  We texted each of our kids to see if anyone was awake in their realms.  Ezra’s tough night kept them from dragging out of what little sleep they managed.  Josh texted back a few times as he did his best to discover what it was we seemed so excited about.  I’m happy to say he now finally understands the term, “Once in a blue moon.”  That’s my boy.  Nathan texted me with a resounding “Whoop.”  Not sure if that means he saw it or was just kindly celebrating with his elderly parental units.  I think he was at work.  Cailyn may have been getting ready for school.  Ah, well.  Maybe they will all get a chance to experience it some other time.  I suppose it will happen again … once in a blue moon. 

Psalms 29:4 says, “The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic.”

Father, thank you for strange and wonderful events in your skies.  Amen.

January 30 – “Loading”

Well, we walked a mile yesterday.  All bundled up against the frigid temperatures.  Hey, it was in the 50’s.  You are just not supposed to walk around outside when it’s less than 60 degrees.  We made the mile, though.  And I for one am not too sore as a result.  My aches and pains today are more the result of the even colder weather this morning (40’s).  Where have all the 70’s gone?

We had some houseguests in the afternoon.  Christina brought her brood over after a trip to the library so they could hang out and wait for their Dad to get off work.  That meant pizza for supper and an array of games.  Micah taught Chris how to play one called War.  Not to be confused with the card game of similar moniker.  This one was more like Battleship.  All you need is a piece of paper and a pencil.  Fold the paper over and each side draws in ten characters or ships.  Then you take turns bombing by drawing a small circle on your own side of the paper.  Then fold the paper over and scratch over the circle you just drew.  The graphite will transfer to your opponent’s game board.  If it touches one of his characters, it’s a hit.  The best part about this game was seeing what characters each one drew.  I saw aliens of all kinds, tie fighters, and even Yoda after Kel arrived. I got smoked by everybody at Connect 4 Classic, but when we pulled out the 3-D version, all bets were off.  In fact, all game rules were suspended and we started flipping discs onto straws in cups.  Finally a game I could be successful at.  Speaking of waiving rules, Jachin was dominating the Operation game, so some changes were instituted.  Several times.  He was still the master surgeon, but everybody else got a chance to be the surgical residents. 

At one point Christina asked Noa if it was Bible story time.  That’s one of Noa’s favorite things to do.  Not listen to a Bible story, mind you.  No, she tells the story.  From behind a pulpit.  I was excited to hear what she had in store.  I was thinking she might fill in for me at Seaside sometime.  Well, Noa agreed that it was Bible story time, but then she started walking, then running around and around in circles.  Even Christina was puzzled.  Mom finally couldn’t stand it any longer, so she had to ask, “What are you doing?”  And Noa’s response?  “It’s loading.”  Ah, a true child of the technological generation.  We never did get to hear the story.  She got distracted by some other crucial activity.  And once again we were plagued by the evil computer error code.  Sigh. 

Psalms 29:3 says, “The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters.”

Father, thank you for pizza and games and family.  Amen.  

January 29 – “A conglomeration of nice”

Well, I made it through my first Sunday back from the sickbed (Not that the bed was sick.  In fact, I spent most of my time on the couch, so change that to sick couch, I guess).  And I suppose Seaside was OK to have me back.  I know Bob was ecstatic (He’s the guy who filled in for me last week.  In fact he called me Saturday evening to make sure I would be there).  I don’t know how effective the teaching was, though.  I was pretty exhausted by the time I finished.  Felt like it last forever.  So, sorry about that, folks.  If seemed that long to me, it must have been interminable to you guys.  I do appreciate the support and encouragement, though.

It was great to have Dave in our midst.  He’s the guy who sang with the Praise Team on Christmas Eve and before the week was out ended up hospitalized with a stroke.  He’s at home now, and can’t negotiate the stairs, so the Jamaica Beach Volunteer Fire Department went to his house, picked him up, and gave him a ride to church.  How’s that for service?  It’s great to be in a small town.  Speaking of small town, Lauren, one of our awesome Seasiders, was at a garage sale Saturday.  She saw some appliances that were in excellent condition.  Her immediate thought?  To buy then for the young couple whose house burned down not long ago.  And when another garage saler found out what she was doing, he decided to pitch in and go halves with her on it.  Taking care of each other …

We also had Cailyn with us.  It has been a while.  She didn’t miss a beat, though.  Seaside is still her territory, as far as she is concerned.  Of course the more kids we get the harder it is for her to stake her claim of dominance.  She loves being there, though.  Yesterday she stuck herself to Dianne, the pianist.  Never left her side.  Even sat with her during church.  And Dianne was as patient and encouraging as ever.  I would say that Cailyn is well-loved to put it mildly.  You know what?  Church is just … nice.

Psalms 29:1-2 says, “Ascribe to the Lord, O mighty ones, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.  Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness.”

Father, thank you for putting us into such a conglomeration of nice: Family, Church,  Community.  Amen.

January 28 – “Celebrating Silly”

It is amazing how much settling for small things matters when you have been under the weather for a week.  Taking a walk, for instance.  I was excited the other day to make it to the end of the street and back (both ends).  Then on Friday Chris took me for another walk, this time all the way around the block.  OK, I know how that sounds.  She did not have to put a leash around my neck and tell me to heel, though.  I promised before we left that I would behave.  Besides, how much trouble could I get into walking around the block? 

Well, I must have passed that around the block test.  Yesterday Chris took me with her to WalMart.  Ah, WalMart.  Teeming with humanity just waiting to be … watched.  Of course I had to walk the obligatory circle a time or two, seeking out the three - or was it four? - items on our list.  They didn’t have the dog food we use.  Found a three ring binder that I needed.  Chris got a plastic tub for sewing stuff.  Oh, and milk.  And bananas.  And oranges.  Are we at four items yet?  Typical trip to WalMart, I suppose. 

We had been there a while, and I was starting to realize that I was slumping more and more over the basket.  Even the excitement adrenaline of being at WalMart among people was wearing thin.  But then I received a shot in the arm.  Diane, one of our Seasiders, walked up and greeted us.  She is the epitome of encouragement, even on her worst days (Not that she has many, but we have all struggled with this sickness crud).  Well, Friday wasn’t one of her worst days.  She was apparently feeling pretty good, and her spirit of encouragement reached out and grabbed me by the heart and shook it seven ways to Saturday.  Oh, I was still tired, but my own spirit sure responded.  Gee, I guess that guy down at the church much be telling the truth.  There really is something to this encourage one another and build each other up idea. 

Yesterday was a little different, though.  No walks around the block.  It was raining all day.  No trips to WalMart.  Chris was focused on quilting all day.  I focused on finishing up the teaching for this morning, so I was buried in my computer.  I did get to watch some college basketball, though.  Oh, and last night we watched a cleaned up for TV version of an old Steven Seagal movie.  And finally, I … ate … a slice of pizza.  After a week of chicken and dumplings followed by chicken pot pie, I actually ate a piece of pizza.  I felt almost … normal.  OK, I know it’s silly to be so excited about WalMart and pizza.  But sometimes you just have to appreciate the little things … to Celebrate the Silly.  So, thanks, Diane.  I believe I’ll have another dose.

1 Thessalonians 5:11 says, “Therefore encourage one another and build up one another, just as you also are doing.”

Father, thank you for silly things that bring joy in silly places.  And thanks for your people who carry the Celebrate the Silly message.  Amen.

January 27 – “The case of the disappearing wedding”

Several days ago we were contacted by our son Josh who lives in Waco.  He let us know the wonderful news that his son Zak had given his life to Jesus and was going to be baptized.  We were, of course, invited to be a part of viewing the festivities.  And of course we wouldn’t miss it.  A tentative date was chosen and I set in on locating a substitute preacher for Seaside. 

In the meantime, Josh called back and had a second request.  Could we by chance come up a few days early?  He and Christi were hoping to take a quick overnight excursion together, if we could be at their house for the kids, that is.  Not a problem on this end.  In fact I also heard back from the sub preacher and all was set for Baptism Sunday as well.

Now fast forward to about this past Tuesday.  Just about the time I was beginning to come out of the fog of being sick.  I received a FaceBook message from the niece of an old friend asking if I could do her wedding on Jamaica Beach in June.  My calendar was clear, so I pulled out my wedding file to start her a page.  And that’s when I saw it.  Right there in the back of the book, on one of my file pages, in my handwriting … information about a wedding.  I had no recollection of the event, but honestly that’s not so unusual.  After all, that’s why I have the file, so I don’t have to remember everything.  But the date.  You guessed it.  Same date we had just confirmed with Josh.  Oh, the Sunday was open, but the preliminary, just-the-two-of-them trip?  I couldn’t be there after all. 

And that resulted in quite the flurry of activity.  I notified Josh.  Our first Plan B was for me to just drive back on Friday for the rehearsal and wedding, then meet them at the baptism on Sunday morning.  Josh countered that they really didn’t want me to have to do that.  Maybe they could just reschedule everything for the next weekend.  I emailed the sub preacher to see if he could switch weeks.  Ah, the things we do for our kids and grandkids. 

While I waited for some responses, I suddenly had a hunch about something.  For no particular reason other than said hunch, I texted the bride to touch base and see how things were going.  After an hour or two she replied.  Ready for this one?  She told me they hired someone else back when they first contacted me.  They didn’t need me after all.  Well, OK.  I quickly notified my sub preacher (hadn’t heard from him yet anyway) and said, “Never mind.”  Then I texted Josh with this:

“Well, well, well.  Guess what news I just got?  I don’t have a wedding on February 17^th any more.  So … never mind.”

His response was pretty classic:

“Well, that’s a much simpler solution.”

Master of understatement, that boy.

Psalms 28:8-9 says, “The Lord is the strength of his people, a fortress of salvation for his anointed one.  Save your people and bless your inheritance; be their shepherd and carry them forever.”

Father, thank you for surprises.  I really do like them, especially when they cause everything to fall back into place.  Amen.

January 26 – “Hip barking”

Chris disappeared on me yesterday.  She went into Texas to take care of the LaMarque kids while Christina took Micah to the dentist.  He cracked a tooth and this was the followup to his brace-installation.  Sounds like he’s doing OK.  One side of the tooth appears to be trying to heal itself.  He was just ecstatic that he didn’t need a root canal at this point.  I got to thinking.  I don’t remember ever having one of those things.  I hear they were among some of the techniques that Hitler’s interrogation squad came up with.  I’m celebrating with you. Micah.

While she was gone I decided to take a walk.  Not a long one, but exercise, nonetheless. 

Hey, I’ve been on the couch for almost a full week now.  I gotta take this re-entry thing slowly.  I bundled up against the not-so bitter cold and ventured outside, tentatively at first.  The winds were bearable, however, so I began my journey.  I started at our house, of course.  The plan was to make it all the way to the end of the street and back, no small task, I might add.  One foot in front of the other, I trudged along, always keeping in my sights the slightly askew stop sign that represented the half-way point to my goal.  One step.  Another.  And another.  I was determined, you know.  And before long I am proud to say, the task had been accomplished.  All the way to the end of the street and back.  Sure I was winded, but the accomplishment was truly worth it.  Wait.  What’s that?  Which end of the street?  Umm.  Well.  OK.  So it was the short end.  The one that has well, one house between us and the stop sign. 

When Chris got home I told her about my accomplishment.  Excitedly told her.  And she was … not extremely impressed.  Oh she was supportive, of course.  But, well, let me just say … we took another stroll.  This time to the long end of the street. Many, many houses between us, and the stop sign stands perfectly straight, so there’s no visual interest to speak of.  That was a tough one.  Even my hips were barking at me.  I’m sure I heard them saying, “Hey, it’s been more than a week since I’ve done anything like this.  What are you thinking?”  I put the offending whiners in their place, and with a steely stare continued on.  Oh, and did I mention that it was cold?  Even with my layering concoction of clothing.  Nothing quite like focusing on breathing without coughing when it’s also cold outside.  I wasn’t entirely successful on that end.  But we did make it.  All the way down and back.  Success.  Of course this will probably mean she will be wanting to go again today sometime.  I can hear the hip barking now …

Psalms 28:7 says, “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.  My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.”

Father, thank you for Micah’s good news.  A toothy miracle would be amazing there.  Amen.

January 25 – “Me and Muci”

I have one more “extra” Waco story that I can use today to give you something to smile at besides my tales of woe and weariness.  Speaking of which, I am doing better.  Mucinex (or however you spell it) has granted me two nights of relatively uninterrupted slumber.  I guess Chris is even happier about that than I am.  It has been strange sleeping all the way to seven, though.  I kind of miss good ol’ 6 a.m.  Anyway, the cough is still tough, but me and Muci will just deal with it during the day.  I think today is the day we try to eat something other than chicken and dumplings.  See how the stomach portion of this mess is really doing. 

So back to the final tale of Waco.  On the way home from the birthday party Zak and Caleb went to, it was just us guys, the two of them and their Dad and me.  We had a talk about who catches the biggest fish and where.  As tends to happen in a fresh water lake fishing kind of atmosphere (not to mention the fact that the boys are fans of the Netflix show Chasing Monsters), the conversation soon turned to the inevitable gigantic catfish. 

Caleb: “Dad, you can go to Thailand (pronounced with a soft “th” as in “thin”) to catch the biggest catfish in the world.”

Josh: “I don’t want to go to Thailand (careful to pronounce it correctly, thus teaching without actually calling attention to the mistake) to catch fish.  I have been invited to go to Thailand, though, to see a refugee camp.”

Zak: “That sounds miserable.”

Me: “Going to a refugee camp or catching a catfish?”  (I don’t think I said that out loud, but I confess to the thought).

Psalms 27:14 says, “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Father, would you watch over the fishermen and refugees in Thailand and around the world?  Amen.

January 24 – “A slick assessment”

Before we get too far away from the whole triple whammy snow/ice apocalypse thing here in South Texas (since it could be fifteen years before we have another one … or it could happen next week), I do want to give some accolades to a TV reporter out of one of the Houston stations.  He was stationed for his report outside in the cold nastiness.  And his assignment?  To tell me everything I ever needed to know about sleet.  Yep.  Houston, Texas, that bastion of sleet-related wisdom.  To his credit, he did let us actually see some sleet, since it was at the time all around him.  Sadly, however, he should have let the video feed speak for itself.  He did boil down his report to the three most important things to know about life in the sleet realm:

1) “Don’t go walking around in it” (At this point the camera panned to show someone actually walking around in it with his dog) “… unless you are letting your dog go to the bathroom.”  (Quick thinking, I guess) 

2) “But don’t take your dog to the bathroom in high heels.”  (Best I could tell there were no offenders present that fell into this category.  I have no idea where that thought even came from)

3) (And the coup de gras) “And don’t walk around with your hands in your pocket.  You won’t be able to catch yourself when you fall.”  (Um.  OK?  Pretty slick assessment, I guess)

Ah, yes.  Weather news always brings out the best of the best in television reporting.  Is there a such thing as the Jim Cantore Award? 

On to a more recent, pressing matter.  On top of dealing with this fluishness, I had another crisis occur last night while I was minding my own business.  A filling fell out of one of my teeth.  No pain involved or anything.  It just decided it was time to seek new life, new civilizations, to boldly go where no filling has gone before.  So now I must include in my morning list of activities a call to the dentist to see if I can get a refill.  Not the expense we had in our sights at this point in time.  On a positive note, the dentist usually wears a mask, so she should be safe from any lingering contagiousness. 

Psalms 27:13 says, “I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

Father, please work out a time to get this tooth taken care of.  And a reasonable rate would be really helpful, too.  Amen.

January 21-23 – “A Gap”

Yes, my friends.  I know there has been a gap in the blog entries for the last few days.  Or has it been weeks?  For those of you who reached out to see what was going on … thank you for your concern.  I have indeed been under the weather, as they say.  Heavy on the “under.”  Already the cause of a pretty miserable drive back from Waco, this one surpassed my prior episode of man flu about midnight Saturday when I found myself racing to the bathroom to begin a wonderful evening of dashing (to said bathroom) and pirouetting (depending on the “need” being manifested at the time) and collapsing (in utter exhaustion).  As of now I am doing better.  I’m still pretty weak. It is taking me forever to get this typed, but Chris is making some chicken and dumplings, so there’s something awesome to look forward to.

Fortunately the incredible folks God has assembled in his Body at Seaside were quite gracious.  They afforded me the “opportunity” to remain in bed on Sunday.  (I’m sure the fact they wanted no part of this nastiness played very little role in their expression of love and support).  I understand Mr. Bob (He of “God loves you and I do, too, and there’s not a thing you can do about it” fame) did a fine job filling in for me.  And of course I already knew Jim and the praise team would be awesome.  Sounds like we had quite a crowd, and a lot of them stuck around for dinner on the grounds, too.  My favorite report was the lady Chris met who lives near Diane and Bill Lami.  They have been talking about their church, so she decided to try it out.  Imagine her surprise when she saw several Sea Isle neighbors, and then Mr. Bob, himself stood up to welcome everyone.  I really love it when “Church Works.”

OK, I’m shutting down here for today.  At least I managed a brief “presence” so my thundering hordes of blog fans (all 4 of you) can know I didn’t depart forever.  Keep those prayers coming.

Psalms 27:7-8 says, “Hear my voice when I call, O Lord; be merciful to me and answer me.  My heart says of you, "Seek his face!" Your face, Lord, I will seek.”

Father, thank you for the prayers and support of your people.  Church works.  Amen.

January 20 – “Future plans”

We embarked on another adventure yesterday.  Began by buying brunch at Bucees -Breakfast Beast Burritos.  Whew.  That was a mouthful in more ways than one.  We arrived in Waco early afternoon.  Josh was at a lunch meeting.  The boys were at co-op and day care.  AnnaGrace was asleep.  Very strange scenario.  As it turned out we got to sit around and just talk with Christi.  That doesn’t happen very often.  And then she left to pick up Luke.  Didn’t take long for AnnaGrace to wake up and let us know she was ready to rouse.  And of course she came right to me when we entered the room.  That’s my little Sugarmuffin. 

Later that night we took the older guys to a birthday party.  The rest of us went out to eat some Mexican food and then we watched a funny movie with Luke.  Baby’s Day Out.  By this time, however, the old allergies were kicking in in a big way.  I was sneezing and coughing and blowing my nose to beat the band.  Relapse.  Aargh.

At one point Luke wanted an orange.

Luke: I’m so hungry.  I never get full.

Josh: Why is that? 

Luke (without missing a beat): God made me that way.

When Josh and I went to pick up the older guys they had a discussion about future vocational opportunities. 

Caleb: Dad, don’t retire anytime soon.  I’m getting a double major in aviation and zoology.

Zak: I don’t need to go to college.

Josh: Why not?

Zak: You don’t need college to open up a bait shop.

Josh: But you’d need a business degree.

Me: Where will you get the money?

Zak: I’ll open it in Galveston and y’all can help me.

Guess I’d better start saving up.

Psalms 27:5 says, “For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.”

Father, thank you for a safe trip up here.  Give Caleb a great birthday.  Amen.

January 19 – “Sans …”

I went to a meeting yesterday.  I know.  Not my favorite thing in the world to do either.  But this one was with a group of pastor-type guys here on the Island who are interested in developing unity among the pastors and ultimately among the churches here.  Kind of a grass roots movement toward what Jesus had in mind a long time ago.  They sponsor a united worship time three or four times a year already.  They also pray together once a week.  The other goal is for pastors to get together every so often in a more social setting: going for coffee or having a family day at the park with one another.  This meeting was designed to kind of build in some structure to what has already been happening, and to take a look at the best way to move forward.  It is really refreshing to hang out with like-minded folks, even if I was the elder statesman of the group … by a long shot.  But hey, now we can say we have representation from the cradle to the grave, right?

Freddy had a visitor yesterday afternoon.  I heard a faint knock at the door.  I leaned way forward from my seat and who should be standing there, but Little Evie, Freddy’s friend from across the street.  She just stopped by with her Mommy and her doll stroller to say hi, sans the doll (That’s my word for the day.  I learned that one from crossword puzzles.  “Sans” is apparently French for “without”).  I think maybe she had her imaginary friend in the stroller, though.  It was kind of hard to tell since they left the stroller outside, so the poor friend had to brave the still-bitter, but not quite so bad cold.  Evie was pretty careful with it when they left, though.  I think the imaginary creature of whatever species is in good hands. 

We are on our way out the door to brave the cold North winds of Waco for an overnight excursion.  Caleb is having his birthday party tomorrow, sandwiched in between two basketball games.  He plays in one and Zak plays in the other.  Gotta get ready.  It’s almost 7:30.  Chris should be getting out of bed soon …

Psalms 27:4 says, “For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.”

Father, please give us a safe trip.  Amen.

January 18 – “Very, very …”

OK.  Enough.  It was very, very cold yesterday.  I know as a writer you are not supposed to use the word “very.”  Too many other, more descriptive choices out there in the world of flower-li—dom.  So in this case let me say … it was very, very cold yesterday.  I have worn both of my long sleeved shirts now.  Nothing new to show off there.  And this whole wearing socks every day is just weird.  Isn’t it time to get back to the nice, tropical, wintry 70’s?

Chris received a phone call from Christina.  Actually they text all the time, so it might have been that.  They take turns being Mom to Kel.  This time there was a bit of a crisis that was going to require both of their Mommy skills.  Kel cut his finger very, very badly at work, and needed a ride to an urgent care clinic.  Now you have to understand the “why” of their Mommy instinct kicking in here.  Ever since he was a little kid Kel has been very, very good at passing out whenever there is blood involved.  He’s a master at crashing when a needle enters the picture.  Christina was prepared to drive all the way down here, all five kids in tow, drop them off with us, and go be with Kel.  Chris suggested that she stay off the icy roads and let us brave the winter blast and meet him instead.  Christina agreed with that solution.  She just wanted someone to put eyes on him.

We picked him up at the post office parking lot.  No one there even offered to drive him, which I’m pretty sure is a breach of protocol.  If not … it should be.  Especially when we found out the circumstances surrounding the gash.  Seems the door of his post office vehicle was frozen shut (Told you it was very, very cold).  When it finally broke free, his finger was pinched between the door and the latch.  Ouch. 

He did really well with the repair work on his finger.  Four stitches.  Probably would have been more, but his fingernail was involved, so they couldn’t get the needle under it to sew the skin back.  Instead they crammed it together and wrapped it up very, very tight.  He handled it like a trooper: Pre-emptive attack.  Drank some Gatorade.  Stayed flat on his back with his knees up.  And he never did pass out.  He told Christina later that it helped having his mother in the room.  Her presence kept him from cussing when the pain got very, very bad.  Hey, Mom, all your hard work paid off. 

On the way back to the post office we stopped by Nathan’s to get a gift he had for Kel.  Something to keep his head and face warm out in the cold.  But as we left his house, driving down the road, we heard a small crash.  We recognized the sound easily enough.  Ice falling from the car.  I told you it was very, very cold.  What we didn’t realize until we got back home was … the ice that fell off also grabbed and took with it a very, very large portion of our car’s paint job.  Now our black car has a section of white-ish, gaping ugliness.  We were very, very sad.  Painting the whole car would be several thousand dollars.  I’d just as soon spring for a new car.  Or maybe we can pick up a can of spray paint at WalMart …

Psalms 27:4 says, “One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.”

Father, thank you for protecting Kel and getting him through this crisis of very, very’s.  Amen.

January 17 – “Galveston Snowpocalypse III”

I sent a text this morning to our worship pastor.  Wanted him to stay inside and not get out into the horrifying sub-30 degree weather today.  It was 25 degrees when I woke up.  Last night we saw plenty of sleet, and finally witnessed seventeen snowflakes.  That's the third time this winter we have seen actual snow.  It was quite difficult to count them all, though.  They were being pummeled and tossed and whipped through the air by the torrential winds (Can winds be torrential, or is that just rain?).  All that was gone when I got up.  It was just still.  Oh, and cold.  So very cold.  It is supposed to slowly climb above freezing by noon, but just barely.  Here’s the transcript of our text series:

Me: “Galveston Snowpocalypse III – no meetings.  Even the bug guy canceled.”

Jim: “?”  (Actually, his question mark was inside a little box.  Very cool looking, but I don’t know how to duplicate it)

Me: “Well, to start with, this is Pastor Kelley.  I was born and raised on a small tropical island near the coast of Texas.  It gets cold here when the thermometer reads 60 or so.  Anything below 40 is a crisis.  Below 30 is a catastrophe.  That said … check your thermometer.  The guy who sprays for roaches canceled his appointment to spray at Seaside because it was just too cold.  You can’t argue with the bug guy.  We won’t be meeting at the church today.”

Jim: “Now where I’m from it’s just another early spring morning.  But I guess I am getting weak in my age.” (Note: He’s from way up north … Oklahoma)

Me: “Be careful.  Liking the cold almost makes you a Yankee around here.”

I think Jim would have less occasion to use his little question mark in a box if he would just make me one of his contacts so he would know who the text is from (I really do want to know how he makes that, though).  Then he could just skip straight to the thumbs up or even the wide grin happy face emoticon that he finally closed out the conversation with. 

Psalms 27:1 says, “The Lord is my light and my salvation — whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life — of whom shall I be afraid?”

Father, thank you for the cold weather.  It cleans out the bugs and allergens and gives us a great reason to appreciate the warm weather we enjoy most of the year. Amen.

January 16 – “Skee-ampion”

Monday.  As usual, I spent the morning wading through my Monday checklist for work.  I try to get as much as possible done so I can spend the rest of the week focusing on the teaching.  Meanwhile we were following closely the trials of young Micah.  He smacked his teeth at the bounce house on Sunday and apparently broke one below the gum line.  He had to see a dentist and an endodontist.  The dental future does not loom pretty for poor Micah. 

Lauren stopped by after lunch to drop off a gift for Cailyn.  Those two are each other’s “Little Buddy.”  We talked for a long time about dogs and cats and vets.  Amazing how often the conversation winds toward those categories when Freddy is around, pacing or whining or flat out jumping in laps, begging for attention. 

Last night we met up with Cailyn to do some more birthday celebrating.  Oh, her parents were there, too.  So were the LaMarque Cousins.  For such a crowd we had to arrange for a slightly larger venue.  Chuck E. Cheese filled that bill just fine.  The adults munched at pizza and salad.  The kids played games.  Well, wait a minute.  I have to say I did see Kel and Christina, as well as Nathan and April struggling to fight off the Jurassic Park evil self-replicating dinosaurs.  And April?  Well, she led Nathan all over that place in a search for dominance at every turn.  She couldn’t stand up to the master at one game, however.  Good old-fashioned skee ball.  Oh, she didn’t do poorly.  It’s just that she couldn’t hang with Mr. 22,000 Average.  That guy was the best I have ever seen.  Consistent.  Creative.  Just … really good.  Maybe I’ll give her some lessons next time.  Er … I mean … maybe HE will give her some lessons …

We made it home in plenty of time to beat the impending doom of snowpocalypse.  Once we got over the causeway I knew we were safe.  All of Southeast Texas was already shutting down, though.  Even the Galveston schools announced closures for today.  Just the anticipation of an event involving cold is more than we can handle down here.  We’ll see how it all plays out.

Psalms 25:8-9 says, “Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in his ways.  He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way.”

Father, protect those folks who do have to get out in the weather over the next day or two.  Amen.

January 15 – “The birthdays”

Well, imagine that.  I’m older than I thought in more ways than one.  Today is my birthday as a believer.  Not my regular birthday.  That’s in August.  This is more of an anniversary, I guess.  It was way back in 1971, my senior year in high school that I finally “got it.”  I finally understood that God isn’t stuck in a box behind the altar up at the church.  He was alive and active and actually wanted to have a personal relationship with me.  Wow.  Now, it has taken me the better part of those 47 years to understand that God doesn’t live in some box I have constructed in my head, either.  He doesn’t have to conform to what I think he should do or be like.  He’s wild that way.  That’s what makes having a relationship with him so exciting.  Think I’ll go for another year.  You never know what he may have in store …

Well, happy birthday to Cailyn, too (one of the many things we have in common).  We went to her birthday party yesterday after lunch at Pit Stop Barbeque with some Seaside friends.  The party was an interesting one.  She combined forces with her best friend at school who also has a birthday this week.  Anticipating a rather large crowd, the event was held at the fire fighter’s union hall.  Plenty of room for the onslaught of eight and nine year olds.  The union even has a big blow-up bounce house in the shape of a fire station.  Very creative.  It certainly held the kids’ attention for the few hours we were there.  Oh, and the pizza.  And cupcakes.  And cookies.  Then the girls all headed off to the BFF’s (Is that still a thing?) house for a slumber party.  Did I get that right?  Girls have slumber parties.  Guys have sleepovers.  It all seemed to go off without a hitch.  Oh, and April, being the great Mom that she is, spent some time with her friends (after the little girls left, of course) making sure that the gifts Cailyn received all were in proper working order.  Plus she made sure that Cailyn wouldn’t be hindered in her play efforts by such annoying things as packaging.  Nothing had been broken yet by the time we left, but the big girls sure seemed to be having fun.  So, Cailyn, if you have any operational questions about your new gifts, I know who you can ask …

Pslams 25:6-7 says, “Remember, O Lord, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old.  Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to your love remember me, for you are good, O Lord.”

Father, thank you for 47 of the best years imaginable.  And thanks for Cailyn.  She’s really growing up.  Draw her to yourself so she can have more than 47 under her belt by the time she’s my age.  Amen.

January 14 – “A philosophical moment”

We experienced a Texas Saturday yesterday.  No, I don’t mean we rode horses (we used the car) or slapped on our ten gallon hats (Mine is a cap that reads Galveston Fire Dept) or tended our personal oil wells (Got nothing on that one.  No oil well here).  Nope.  A Texas Saturday just means we had to drive across the causeway and into Texas.  We left the safety and security of the Island.

And why would we dare to do something so dangerous?  Oh, a few reasons.  First off, we went to Ezra’s first birthday party.  He was actually born in December, but with Christmas and all, his party got shoved back a month.  Not sure how that plan will go over when he gets a little older.  It wasn’t a huge affair (well, he has three brothers and a sister, so just the immediate family makes a crowd).  But the grandparents were there, a cousin or two, and even one little guy from their church. 

After cake and ice cream, I left Chris on site and headed deeper into Texas territory to visit Seasider Dave who is recuperating at a rehabilitation hospital after a stroke just after Christmas.  He had just had a visit from his wife and his dog, so I was certainly well down on the priority list of his Saturday log.  He is doing much better physically than even last week when I checked in on him.  He still has a long way to go with physical and occupational therapy before they can talk about when he can leave the facility.

After we prayed together I headed back toward Ezra’s house.  We were pretty low on gas, so I stopped to fill up.  That’s where I had one of those philosophical moments.  Scary, huh?  Just walking from the pump to the cashier (no paper in the receipt generator), I had no less than four people step aside or hold the door for me or quite pleasantly greet me.  Respect is an amazing thing, and I don’t receive it lightly.  My philosophical moment, however, involved speculation on just why the respect occurred in the first place.  Was it just because sometimes you can hit a pocket of nice people in Texas?  Maybe.  Or was it the Astros championship t-shirt I was wearing?  Lots of comradery there, for sure.  I thought perhaps it was the fire department cap.  People have a lot of respect for fire fighters, don’t they?  But then I figured it out.  At least I’m pretty sure this is where they were coming from.  Why the respect?  Why the kindness?  Because I’m a gray-headed, white-bearded, feeble-looking old guy who may not be able to get that door open without help.  Hmm.  OK.  Philosophy never was my long suit.

Just as I arrived back at the house Kel was on his way to jump his car and take it to WalMart to get a new battery.  I followed him and Micah and Josiah.  After the initial “It’ll be about 30 minutes” we returned to the auto section (We spent that time roaming the toy department and the electronics wing.  Big WalMart).  Upon our return we were told that it was going to take “a while.”  Kel tried for a bit more specific answer, so he got one: “A long while.”  Great.  Wish he had decided that 45 minutes ago.  We went on back to the house and had some of Christina’s great taco soup.  Christina’s Dad volunteered to take Kel back up when the car was ready, so Chris and I finally headed back to Galveston, our Texas Saturday at a close. 

Psalms 25:4-5 says, “Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.”

Father, thank you for young Ezra.  Grant him a happy life.  Amen.

January 13 – “Unbridled”

Here’s a little story I have been saving for when my day was particularly boring.  It happened a while back at church.

I had a little visitor kid take to me at church.  That sometimes happens.  First he approached me while we were singing.  I squatted down to see what he wanted, and he took my face in his hands.  He almost got distracted playing with my beard, then asked if he could please have a donut.  Of course I told him it was all right with me, but he had to ask his mommy and daddy first.  He went straight to the donut holes, grabbed one and took off to daddy’s arms.  I followed to explain what I had told him.  They were fine with his special treat.  In fact Mommy wanted to pay for all the donuts right then and there.  Umm.  Nope. 

Later on he came back by me again and did a drive-by hugging of my leg.  Then he returned a third time and held his arms up for me to hold him.  Of course I did.  I can’t resist pleading eyes in a little kid any more.  Don’t have to.  I’m a granddad.  And when I scooped him up, he grabbed me in the biggest hug I have received in a long, long time. 

Well, here’s the thing.  He wouldn’t let go.  Dad came over and tried several times to take him, but he held on tight.  And then good ol’ Dad had a brainstorm.  Bribery.  He came over and popped a donut hole in the little guy’s mouth.  Magic.  Suddenly Dad is the hero of the hour.  The youngster went right to him.  So much for the allure of the bearded one, the grandfatherly figure, the kindly old pastor.  Can’t compete with a donut hole.

Psalms 24:1-2 says, “The earth is the Lord's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it; for he founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters.”

Father, thank you for the unbridled expression of love that only a child can pull off effectively.  Amen.

January 12 – “Windfall”

Chris disappeared on me yesterday.  Well, not disappeared actually.  I knew where she was.  She safari-ed into Texas to take care of some of the LaMarque kids while their Mom took others of them to the doctor.  Everything is OK medically.  Unless, of course you take the perspective of Ezra who received four shots.  He wasn’t all that happy with the world around him.  Jachin did take a comfortable position on the table for the shot he got.  He has his father’s tendency to pass out whenever needles are involved, so he has learned to be proactive. 

I stayed at home and kept working on the sermon for Sunday.  Made some pretty good strides, too.  And in between I even managed to make a quick trip to the bank to make a deposit.  Speaking of deposits, the mail lady delivered our latest bank statement.  And it didn’t reconcile with what I had in my records.  Not usually a good thing, right.  I waded right in to find the discrepancy.  It took a while, but guess what?  Back in December for some insane reason I flat out forgot to record … a deposit.  That’s right, a deposit.  No idea why.  I just spaced it completely.  I gotta tell you, it’s not often there is an error more than a few pennies here and there (usually because of my bad math skills or because I transposed some digits).  But this one.  I felt like I was in a Monopoly game and just drew the “Bank error in your favor” Community Chest card.  Only it wasn’t the bank’s error.  It was mine.  Three hundred dollars.  Totally unaccounted for - for an entire month.  How’s that for a New Year’s windfall? 

Psalms 23:5-6 says, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Father, financial windfalls are great.  But thank you for the spiritual windfalls you have in store for us all the time.  Amen. 

January 11 – “Ministry ... and baseball”

Yesterday was a busy one ministry-wise.  Started out the day getting in an hour or two of sermon work before hitting the road.  My first stop was fire station five.  I wanted to touch base with the crew there that had a really tough call in the wee hours of Monday morning.  And of course the truck was not in the bay.  Since they were out on a call somewhere, I decided to head on to stop number two.

That meant a trip into Texas.  One of our Seasiders had a stroke just after Christmas, and he is now in a rehab hospital in Clear Lake.  I’ve been staying away while I was recovering from the respiratory crud.  No way he needed that on top of his other issues.  Dave seemed to be doing really well, though.  He looked better than he has in a long time, and he seemed much calmer.  No doubt an effect of getting blood pressure under control.  I got to meet one of his daughters before she left to return home to San Diego.  A second daughter will be in town next week to spend time with him, so it sounds like he is well on his way to recovery.

On my way back to Galveston I got a phone call from Dave’s daughter.  I forgot my daytimer book there in the hospital room.  Yikes.  I’m pretty old school when it comes to making lists on paper and checking my calendar in that little book.  How would I know what day it was?  How could I make any plans for the future?  I would be paralyzed.  I started to take the Dickinson exit and turn around right then when she made a suggestion.  One of our Seasiders had already notified them that she was coming up and bringing Dave’s dog for a visit.  Would I like for her to pick up the book and bring it to me?  Great idea.  I assured them I would make the request and thanked them for keeping up with the book in the meantime.  My life could continue without added chaos after all.  Hey, my life has enough chaos on its own.

Continuing on into Galveston I headed back to the station.  The guys were there this time, and two of the four on shift for the bad call were assigned to the station again.  I got to talk briefly to them to see how they were doing.  The other two guys were coming later that afternoon for the debriefing session with police and EMS crews who were also involved, so I decided to touch base with them just before the meeting.  As usual, I was really proud of the way they were all handling a difficult situation.  Things like they had to go through are hard to forget, and maybe shouldn’t be forgotten.  But they have to be accepted and processed honestly.  Bottled up emotions can turn into serious issues even much later down the road.

After the meeting I hung out with the crew for a while.  Couldn’t help myself.  Baseball.  They were pitching to each other with one of the new versions of wiffle ball – the kind with all the dimples that makes the ball do all sorts of crazy things.  It was a lot of fun watching them do their best to at least hit a foul ball.  And finally it was time for the old man to teach the youngsters a thing or two.  Now understand, it has been literally years since I have swung a bat, and then it was to hit a slow pitch softball.  The pitcher did say at the outset that he didn’t care of he hit one of his co-workers with a pitch, but he was afraid to hit me.  Advantages of being the feared and respected hitter, I guess.  To everyone’s surprise, including myself more than anyone, I actually managed to get the bat on the ball pretty consistently.  Even managed to hit a few left handed.  Oh, I didn’t crush it like some of the youngsters did, but I was never a long ball hitter anyway.  They finally headed out to get something to eat, so I headed home for the day.  Ministry and baseball.  Great day.

Psalms 23:4 says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Father, continue to be with all the players in that tough call situation.  Give each one someone to talk to.  Amen.