September 7 – “Mysterious Martha”

Well, it looks like everything is falling into place for Josh and Christi to make their move from San Antonio to Waco later this month.  Right now they are finalizing details of their loan documents for buying a house in Waco.  They still need to sell their house in San Antonio, though, so if you know of anyone looking, let me know.  I can show them a great house in Northwest San Antonio.  Motivated seller.  And … I am a terrible real estate salesman.  Why don’t I leave that to the pros? 

In honor of that pending move I thought I’d share a quick story that Cailyn told us the other day.  We were sitting at the dinner table, having the usual dinner conversations that come up when a four-year-old little girl is the star of the show.  Princesses.  Pink and Purple things.  You know.  Earth-shattering topics like that.  One of us mentioned Aunt Christi and the upcoming birth of her child, a topic that has been the subject of virtually every prayer Cailyn has prayed here at our house since she found out Christi was pregnant.  Suddenly a very pensive look came over her face.  She was obviously in deep thought.  I for one am always anxious to hear what comes next out of her mouth.  She was struggling to formulate how she could say whatever it was so, no doubt so we could understand it.  She gets concerned about us sometimes in that area.  She took one more bite to give her that final boost of needed energy, and she began.

Cailyn: “My friend Martha lives in San Antonio.”

Me: “You have a friend named Martha?”
Cailyn: “Yes, but she died and now she lives in heaven.”
Me: “Oh, is that right?”  Gotta admit I was more than a bit stunned by that comment.  Not one I ever expected.  But she continued, with tiny, little tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Cailyn: “One time I was at her house, and her mother said to Martha ‘you better not do that.’  But she didn’t listen, and she got dead, and that’s how Martha got to live in heaven.”

So … wow.  What do you say in response to that?  I sure couldn’t think of anything.  Still can’t.  We sat in silence for a few moments, mourning dear, departed Martha from San Antonio.  And then all was well once again.  Back to pets and bows and dress-up clothes.  And who was this mysterious Martha?  I still don’t know.  Maybe a distant relative of April’s we haven’t heard stories about before?  Maybe someone they know from the fire department?  Maybe someone from the far distant past?  Wait.  I have an idea.  Maybe Martha was another of Cailyn’s imaginary friends.  Even so, it’s still sad to hear of her passing. 

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 says, “Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.  We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.  According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep.  For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first.  After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.  Therefore encourage each other with these words.

Father, please continue to grease the wheels for Josh and Christi to get to Waco and begin “officially” ministering there.  Amen.

September 6 – “An ear-y predicament”

The stomach bug is running rampant at Kel and Christina’s house.  It started with Micah and progressed into Christina and Josiah.  Poor Josiah was quite confused by the whole situation.  He even asked Christina at one point if his heart was breaking.  Now that’s gotta tug at your sympathy strings, doesn’t it?  Chris wanted to take them over some soup, but reason won out over a pretty intense desire to be a Mommy on that one.  The last thing we need is for a bug to take hold of Mom.  We did get a report that Kel was being Super Dad, though, so I guess all their sickos were in good hands.  Hang in there, Kel.

I have another issue that will most likely result in a trip over to the clinic this morning.  When I pulled my hearing aid out of my right ear when I was getting ready for bed, it didn’t all come out.  A cap piece decided to stick around and wedged itself way down in the ear canal.  I could tell immediately something was wrong, because frankly it hurt.  Still does, although not quite as much.  Chris could see it, but it was too far in to reach with a pair of tweezers.  I really don’t feel like driving all the way into Texas to go to my audiologist, so looks like I get to meet a new doctor.  I haven’t been to a “regular” doctor since I went in to the clinic after Hurricane Ike to get a tetanus shot.  Let me see.  That was in 2008, so it’s been five years or so.  Of course I’m not counting the required yearly trip to the neurologist or the quarterly trips to the rheumatologist.  Guess that’s not a bad record.  So now I get to explain my predicament to a doctor.  At least it’s not a roach up in there making a nest.  Chris has seen that before in a kid back when she was working.  Ouch. 

I went to a meeting yesterday about the celebration that will happen next Wednesday to honor the memory of the first responders who died in the World Trade Towers disaster (9-11).  The fire department, EMS service, and several of the local police departments are joining forces for a brief march and bell ceremony at the gazebo by Rosenberg Library.  All of it is going down right at noon and should last about 45 minutes or an hour.  I have been asked to pray at the beginning and end of the ceremony. 

And to end this hodgepodge of a blog entry, my morning looks like it has been set for me.  Chris made the comment at home group last night that the yard sure needs to be mowed.  That’s girl language for “mow the yard tomorrow morning,” or something along those lines.  No fishing today. 

Psalms 108:6 says, “Save us and help us with your right hand, that those you love may be delivered.”

Father, help this doc pull out this hearing aid part this morning, please.  Amen.

September 5 – “Training”

I made a hospital visit yesterday to check in on a lady who just had some heart surgeries. She had a stent out in late last week, and then Tuesday had a pacemaker installed.  Pretty serious stuff.  I found her in the intensive care unit, but she was sitting up in a chair watching TV when I arrived.  Her doctors had told her she might go home that day, but then her blood pressure jumped up, so they were adjusting medications to make sure they had a handle on it.  She was in great spirits, though.  And as it turned out, the blood pressure stabilized and she was released in the afternoon.  Great news for that family.

When I arrived at the hospital I saw one of the fire engines in the driveway.  After I parked it was still around, but none of the fire fighters was there, so I put one of my chaplain business cards in the window to show them I was thinking about them.  Haven’t heard back on whether they found it or not.  When I left the hospital, the engine was gone, so I stopped by that station.  They must have had another call, though.  Or maybe they just saw me coming and were ditching me. 

I drove by the central station and saw a group of the guys doing some training, so I stopped in to watch that for a while.  Nathan had come by, too, but he couldn’t help himself.  He had jumped right in and was in the middle of everything, helping set up, teach and encourage.  Each guy had to dress in full bunker gear, wear a blacked out mask to simulate smoky conditions in a fire, and crawl through a maze that had been set up.  The scenario was that they had received a distress call from another fire fighter who had become tangled in some wires.  They had to crawl through a bunch of wires hanging down with loops and twists in them that often got caught on arms, legs and equipment.  They had to use wirecutters to free themselves and make it through a small hole to complete the course.  It was fascinating to watch.  I also enjoyed the good-natured teasing before each guy went through.  I especially related to one of the older guys, an acting battalion chief.  They told him they would make it easier for the old guy by laying out some smooth plywood, or maybe some mattresses, for him to crawl on.  He took it all in stride and made his way through.  Then one of the guys asked me if I was ready to give it a go.  I replied, “If that’s the way you make it easy for the old guy, I think I’ll wait until you can figure out how to make it easier for a senior citizen.”  Once again my admiration for what these guys go through to stay prepared for battling fires ramped up another three or four notches. 

Psalms 108:5 says, “Be exalted, O God, above the heavens, and let your glory be over all the earth.”

Father, keep those fire fighters safe, even in the intense training they have to do.  Amen.

 

September 4 – “Joining the wisened silverheads”

Day one of my new water aerobics exercise/therapy class in in the books.  I have to say I have never done anything quite like that before.  I joined in with the rest of the gray hairs in a class offered by the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) of UTMB.  It is an organization that offers “older” community members opportunities to take college level classes as well as courses like this one.  I have taught a few New Testament courses and one on Christian symbols before.  This, however, is my first time to actually sign up for a class as a wisened silverhead. 

In the exercises we learned were quite helpful to me.  In the water there is less stress on my joints from my arthritis, so I am able to get my heart rate up by actually exercising instead of fighting pain.  Certainly an option I prefer.  The instructor was upbeat and encouraging, and obviously a fellow morning person.  She stood outside the pool where we could see her demonstrate the movements.  I thought it was kind of funny that she turned on music so we would have a beat to follow.  There is no way we were doing in the water the kinds of things she was doing on land and still maintain the tempo of the music.  I appreciated the thought, though.  Made me think I was in some kind of slow motion zumba class.  I was surprised by how many exercises she showed us using one of those pool noodles.  In fact, the hardest movements we attempted involved that noodle.  At one point we were supposed to step on it.  Not as easy as it sounds.  You have to get your leg up high enough to get your foot on top of it.  And then you have to keep it there while you push it down.  It was not exactly easy to hang onto a round foam object with my foot.  I don’t have monkey toes.  The other one that was particularly tough had us holding the noodle under the water with both hands, and then making a motion like we were pedaling a bicycle with our hands.  That was an unexpected upper body workout.  The other problem I had was drifting backwards further and further into deeper water.  The exercises are designed to be done in water not quite up to your shoulders.  It’s hard to do the dips and bends when doing them puts your head under water.  Not to mention the difficulty keeping your balance.  If nothing else, though, I have to say it felt like I had done a workout. 

After class the instructor pulled me to the side.  I thought maybe I was being sent to the principal’s office, but she just wanted to see how things had gone.  She told me that the class was set up for everyone to do things at their own pace, so if I was ready for her to show me some new things that would challenge me more, she would be happy to do it.  I wasn’t sure how to take that.  On the one had I was reveling in the fact that I had just made it through this class without drowning.  Now she was telling me that she could make it considerably harder.  I guess I should be honored that she thought I could do more.  I assured her that I was fine at the moment just learning all the different moves she was throwing at us.  I appreciated the offer, but one thing at a time, please. 

Psalms 108:4 says, “For great is your love, higher than the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the skies.”

Father, thank you for a new opportunity to get some much-needed exercise without so much pain involved.  Amen.

September 3 – “Grandparent World”

So then.  Yesterday was supposed to the Labor Day holiday, right?  And like on any true holiday you are supposed to rest from your work and recharge you energy.  I need to learn how to do that a little more effectively, I guess. 

Not that I went outside and worked myself to the bone so that I can’t function today.  In fact, I think I only went outside twice all day.  One of those was to pick up the newspaper.  The other was to say goodbye to Cailyn and her parents when they left.  I just had one of those days where I got started working at the computer and didn’t really stop until Stan and Sue walked through the front door.  They brought over a cake and some gumbo to add to our brisket for a birthday meal for Mom and me and Chris and anniversary meal for them.  We even got to sing Happy Birthday, Happy Anniversary like we do at church.  Except Cailyn insisted that she and I sing it a separate time for each person.  Rockin’ the music world with my granddaughter.  Watch out Bon Jovi and Burl Ives and all those other wild and crazy artists.  Here we come.

But back to our morning.  There was a time or two when Chris sat down in one of the rocking chairs and we talked for a while.  Those are really good times.  Doesn’t even really matter what we talk about.  Build shelves or buy ready-built ones.  Mom’s late-night escapades and adventures.  The latest interesting or funny or sad posts on FaceBook.  Logistics for a trip to help Josh and Christi get unpacked after they move to Waco.  Which days we get to take Cailyn to school and pick her up.  What we are going to have for lunch or dinner.  What funny things Cailyn has said or Caleb has done or how big Noa has gotten or virtually any other grandchild trivia.  What the conditions are for fishing.  What the conditions are for hurricane development in the Gulf of Mexico (Hey, we do live on a barrier island.  And it is September).  My aches and pains and rheumatiz.  What quilt to make next and what fabric to use that will perfectly fit the recipient.  What exciting development has occurred in the saga that is the life of our two “ministerial” sons.  What’s going on at the fire department.  Or in the ER over at UTMB.  Who has been coming to Seaside lately.  Taken individually, none of these are earth-shattering.  Put them all together and you have a picture of … Grandparent World … our world.  And we love it. 

Psalms 108:3 says, “I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations; I will sing of you among the peoples.”

Father, thank you for this world you have placed me in.  Amen.

 

September 2 – “Labor Day”

Holiday Sundays at Seaside Church have always been a mystery to me.  There is no way to predict how many people will be there.  It might be like a typical traditional church where a lot of folks leave town for the holidays to visit family or take mini-vacations.  That has happened.  On the other hand we are a resort community, so it could be that all those people who have taken their mini-vacations have come to Galveston and decide to stop in at Seaside for worship.  So on any given holiday we might have a handful of folks or we might be bursting at the seams.

We had a real blowout of a crowd at church yesterday.  Lots of visitors in for the holiday decided to give Seaside a try this weekend.  A new UTMB student and her husband.  Another couple who moved to Jamaica Beach in April.  Several Sea Isle families.  Not to mention the families of Seaside folks who were here for the weekend as well.  Best I could tell we were hovering right around 68 people, and that many people goes a long way toward filling up our space.  Rita has organized some kids’ programming for the services and she plans to kick off a children’s Sunday School in a few weeks.  That one will be an interesting experiment.  She has found some curriculum that allows the volunteers teacher to learn right along with the kids.  In her words, “The only preparation you need is to prepare your heart.”  Exciting things are afoot in West Galveston Island. 

And speaking of holidays, I woke this morning to an interesting breakfast smell.  Actually it’s not for breakfast.  And I’m glad, because the smell just wasn’t quite right at 5 a.m.  Chris put in a brisket last night for our Labor Day lunch, and the aroma has swept through the house already.  Now once I had some fruit and a cup of coffee I was finally able to truly appreciate the upcoming delicacy that odor foretells.  Kel and Christina are at Lake Conroe with her family (at least they are near some water).  Josh and Christi are wrapping things up in San Antonio.  But I think Nathan and Cailyn are coming to share it with us.  He said April had to work today.  That surprised me.  I figured most surgeons would schedule operations apart from holidays so they could spend time on their boats or do the vacation to Cabo or whatever it is surgeons do with their time off.  But I guess there is always the possibility of emergency surgeries being needed.  And April is in the enviable position of being the last to be hired.  Ah, well.  If any family understands working when everyone else is off, it’s this one.  Three pastors, two nurses, a firefighter.  I know.  We also have two teachers thrown into the mix, but Christi and Christina have been around long enough to know the drill.  We will miss you, April.

Psalms 108:2 says, “Awake, harp and lyre!  I will awaken the dawn.”

Father, it’s good to hear someone else is a morning person.  Good morning.  Amen. 

September 1 – “A revelation moment”

I had one of those revelation moments yesterday.  I intended to spend the day relaxing in front of the computer and TV screens, maybe going over the sermon for today a few times (which I did, by the way), probably watching at least some of the A&M football game (since the inaugural Houston Baptist University football game against Sam Houston State University would not be televised.  Two such football powerhouses would certainly have overtaxed the resources of any television station).  Before the football game came on, though, I went out in the backyard to see what Chris was doing.  She often gets lost in yardwork back there.  The results are always fantastic, but the work she does leading up to it always leaves me in awe.  I am especially amazed at her ability to “see” what it is going to look like a season or two before it actually comes to pass with blooms and everything. 

She was clearing out some of the extraneous branches from the blue-hangy-down-flower vine-like thing that covers most of our back fence.  What?  You didn’t expect me to remember the name of it, did you?  Non-essential information.  Its branches had begun to take over more than just the fence.  They were creeping along the ground and grasping through the air to hang onto anything in its path.  Some of the other flowers were getting overrun by the aggressive interloper.  Even our big palm tree back there had streamers mingling with the palm branches.  It wouldn’t do for that to happen.  It might affect my stock for making Palm Sunday crosses.  Of course you know where all this is going, right?  What could I do as the wonderful, loving, caring, do-anything-for-my-wife husband that I am?  I pitched in.  I took one area of fence and, carefully following orders, began to pull and cut and rip away those long, skinny intruders as well as overgrown grass and weeds located in between our chain link fence and the neighbor’s privacy fence.  That six-in gap between the two has become no-man’s land.  It can’t be reached with a weedeater.  We can’t really put weedkillers in there because it will affect the precious prettiness of the garden.  I can get my finger through about half-way, so there is always about three inches of weed/grass growth that simply jeers and taunts me despite my best efforts.  And yesterday was no different.  I endured unspeakable plant heckling compounded by the ever-rising heat index.  Sweat poured from my furrowed brow, but I pressed on, pulling and tugging and snipping.  Chris finally forced me to stop for the day, but sadly, I was not quite finished with the strip of fence I was working on.  Dejected, I resigned myself to accept defeat this time.  But in the spirit of sport, I further resolved to get the job done when next we met, whenever that may be. 

I suppose Chris was happy with my efforts.  I was certainly impressed by hers.  The flower bed, as always, looks amazing.  And, as always, I stand in awe at her foresight.  Oh, yes.  The revelation moment.  As we toiled side by side (sort of), I realized that there is not much I enjoy more than doing just about anything as long as it is together with my wife.  Even getting sweaty and dirty and exhausted and defeated by long, skinny, green tendrils.  It’s all about the company. 

Psalms 108:1 says, “My heart is steadfast, O God; I will sing and make music with all my soul.”

Father, thank you for the incredible gift of a companion who makes the hardest work an opportunity to enjoy being together.  Amen.