December 19 – “Use the Force”

Well, we did it.  Chris and I joined Kel and his boys (Christina stayed home with a sick Noa) for an excursion to the mall.  No, not to go Christmas shopping (which Chris and I did later on in the day).  This trip was actually to the movie theater connected to the mall.  And the movie?  Star Wars.  It’s been a long time since we have been first in line to see such a popular, yea even iconic, opening of a film.  Actually the “official” opening happened the night before.  That’s when the real geeks stood in line for hours waiting to be among the first.  We were among the “family-oriented geeks,” I guess.  You know, the ones with little kids who can no longer stay up until midnight, but have no issues with showing up at 9:30 in the morning to watch a movie with the youngsters who have been awake since before 6 a.m. anyway. 

All three of the boys were really excited, but none more so than Josiah, the six-year-old.  He was dressed to the hilt in his Darth Vader Halloween costume (sans the mask, however).  His grinning little face protruding from that embodiment of evil costume made him irresistibly cute.  We asked him to step back from us so we could take a pictures, and as he did, he put on his absolutely most serious face ever and quietly whispered, “I will eat all your popcorn.”  Frightening.  Finally the time came to open the big gate that separated the movie studio from the rest of the mall.  As it began its slow ascent, Josiah stepped up to the front of the line and stood at attention.  Was that a bit of a glitch in the mechanism?  It certainly seemed to slow ever so slightly.  And just about then, young Vader’s father encouraged him, “Use the Force, Josiah.”  The young Jedi’s arm extended in front of him.   A determined look enveloped him face.  His hand spread wide and … the gate resumed its smooth ascent.  So did the young Jedi get excited?  Not this one, for the Force is strong with him.  He calmly lowered his arm and strode confidently into the far reaches of the movie theater galaxy, his mind on a place long, long ago and far away …

Now here is where I might ordinarily engage in a one-sided review of the movie itself.  You know, tell my personal reactions to the little plot twists that affect the overall scheme of the Star Wars universe in general and the lives of the iconic characters in particular.  But I sort of promised not to do that.  Well, that’s not entirely accurate.  I was threatened that if I did do any revealing, I would be taken on a camping trip where I would be beaten within an inch of my life and then hung by that remaining thread of being over a slow burning outdoor fire pit.  They had me at “camping trip.”  No spoiler alert warnings necessary here.  I will say there were some flying words.  And plenty of battle scenes.  And Luke-cinda.  And Obi wan Ke-Luke-i.  Oh, and there were plenty of unanswered questions.  Just to keep the franchise alive for the next movie release, of course.  Said enough?  Too much?  Just go see it already.

1 Peter 2:10 says, “Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.”

Father, thank you for the wonder in the eyes of little ones as they anticipate entering into the universe of make-believe.  Amen.

December 18 – “Blanket-dropping”

Looks like we have some new neighbors at our old house across the street.  It started night before last.  A truck and a car appeared in the driveway.  The very first thing they unloaded?  A huge Christmas wreath that they hung on the front door.  I think I’m gonna like these people.  They took in a few things and then left for the night.  Next morning, the For Sale sign came down, and an entourage of pick-up trucks and SUV’s unloaded throughout the day.  All of the ones helping to unload were in their twenties, so I guess the median age of the neighborhood will drop just a tad.  We’ll have to go over and introduce ourselves when we can catch them both at home.  Maybe with a loaf of Chris’ famous Amish friendship bread. 

We had a great turnout for our church white elephant party.  Food galore.  Chris made chili.  Someone brought ribs and chicken nuggets and sandwich fixin’s and chips and dips.  I think some of that just may make its way up to the church for dinner on the grounds Sunday.  Not sure about the rib, though.  I do have to eat a few meals between now and then.  They’d probably just go bad anyway, right?

The gifts were wildly varied this year.  Minion puzzles and men’s cologne and kitchen towels and movies (Horton Hears a Who and Ghostbusters and Harry Potter) and a huge box of candies among others.  Oh, and the ever-present framed photo of a certain hot dog girl (Lora Boyer) that has been floating around Seaside parties for numerous years now.  The one I opened and actually got to keep due to a fortunate set of circumstances was really a find.  It was some actual (cancelled) stock certificates from The Cleveland SHORT LINE Railroad, The Baltimore and Ohio (B&O) Railroad Company, The PENNSYLVANIA Railroad Company, and The READING Railroad Company.  Did you catch why this was such a cool find?  Make the connection?  Here’s another clue: “Take a ride on the Reading.”  Still nothing?  Come on.  When was the last time you played Monopoly?  These are the railroads that are on the four sides of the playing board.  Now how awesome is that?  Now every time I play I automatically control those four spaces on the board, right? 

We did take a moment to listen to Linus quote the Christmas story from A Charlie Brown Christmas.  Pointed out that at the moment he talks about the angels saying, “Do not fear,” he drops his blanket.  No accident there.  Linus, the one who is terrified to be without his blanket, simply didn’t need it when he talked about the Jesus.  Atta boy, Linus.

Luke 2:10-11 says, “But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”

Father, thank you for giving us blanket-dropping moments.  Amen.

December 17 – “Missing Marvin”

We went to the funeral yesterday of one of the truly nice guys the world has ever known.  Well, at least my world.  His name is Marvin Raney.  Yes, I said “is” because he was a believer and as such is alive and very well with Jesus right now.  That’s a much better state than the perennial fight with cancer that has been consuming his life for the past few years.

Marvin was Nathan’s first basketball coach, and eventually he became my assistant coach with the varsity.  By his own admission he didn’t know a whole lot about basketball, which made us quite the pair of coaches.  Neither did I, but we learned a thing or two together.  I could really count on him to be an encourager for the guys on the team.  And he was always into the game.  Except for that one time when he was kicked out of the gym.  That was when he was Nathan’s coach.  He always told me that was the defining moment of his coaching career.  It was when he knew that he was not cut out to be the head coach - that he was quite happy and fulfilled being the number two guy.  And I for one was happy he came to that conclusion.  Oh, and there was that one other time.  This one wasn’t his fault.  Someone in the stands (or rumor has it that it might have been from the scorers’ table) began riding the referee pretty hard.  I never heard what was said, but apparently the striped camel’s back couldn’t hold any more.  The ref scanned the bench, pointed right at Marvin and tossed him from the bench.  No one was more surprised that Marvin was.  See, the ref harassing really wasn’t helping matters in the game, so the whole time Marvin had been trying to get the crowd to calm down and stay off the ref’s case.  That’s Marvin.

Marvin came by the house a few years ago.  Once with his son Derek on their way to Moody Gardens and once with his son Cordy when they came to my 60^th birthday party.  One thing about Marvin … he lights up a room when he enters.  He has a great smile that rarely leaves his face (except maybe when the call is an especially bad one), and I’m quite sure that smile will be adorning his face for eternity.  And as was spotlighted at his funeral service, he has a ready quip for just about any matter of deep concern … “Well, I don’t know, but I do know God knows, so that’s good enough for me.”  Indeed he does, Marvin.  Indeed he does.  I’ll miss you, my friend.

1 Peter 2:9 says, “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

Father, welcome Marvin into your presence with the joy he brought to us while he was here.  Walk with his family as they process life without him for a while.  Amen.

December 16 – “Flat Stanley comes to call”

Well, the Flat Stanley bug has finally made it to South Carolina.  At least to the second grade classroom of some friends of ours there.  Seems Hannah Grace’s class read the story of the boy who had a blackboard fall on him and squish him flat as a bug (or something along those lines ... I’ve never read the book).  Now he can slide under doors and travel in mailing envelopes.  And Flat Stanley of Columbia, South Carolina, showed up in our mailbox the other day for an extended visit to Galveston.  We have to be good hosts and show him the sights around town.  You know, the beach, Moody Gardens, the fire station, the Pleasure Pier (well, maybe near the Pleasure Pier).  We’ll figure something out.  I did have to make him some new clothes, though.  Bathing suit.  Island shirt with lots of big flowers on it.  Gotta say, it’s a lot easier to dress someone who is so … flat.  And he doesn’t wiggle much, either.  Oh, and I think we might be related to Stanley.  My grandmother on my father’s side was Olivia Stanley before she married a Vaughan.  Her dad was from somewhere out there in South Carolina, too, I think.  Small world.  TeeHee.  “Small world.”  Get it?  Flat Stanley is only eight inches tall. 

1 Peter 2:5 says, “you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.”

Father, thank you for fun tools like the Flat Stanley craze to encourage kids to learn about their world.  Amen. 

December 15 – “Strike three”

After hours upon hours of online research, and with the generous help of Seaside, I finally made the fateful phone call yesterday.  Health insurance.  The policy I had was being discontinued, and Blue Cross Blue Shield would no longer be offering PPO type insurance.  But as I said, I had done extensive research.  And I even had a good friend who is also an agent trying to track done something for me.  What I found was a PPO policy offered by none other than Guidestone, the agency of the Southern Baptist Convention that provides retirement accounts and insurance for pastors and church staff members.  It was pretty expensive, but Seaside assured me they wanted me to go ahead and get it.  It was the only way I could be guaranteed to keep my existing doctors. 

After a fairly short wait I was connected to a nice young man who asked me a few questions.  Not many, actually.  Apparently it didn’t take him long to be able to say I was ineligible for any kind of insurance they offered unless I met one of three criteria. 

1. I was new to my church (just starting there).  Well, I’ve been at Seaside for 20 years.  Strike one.

2. I was married or planning to get married, pregnant or planning to become pregnant, or had a new dependent of some kind and needed coverage for them.  Not gonna happen any time soon, that’s for sure.  Strike two.

3. I had experienced loss of coverage due to ineligibility of some kind. 

Now I figured I would easily be covered under that last one.  But no.  See, the insurance companies figured that one out.  Discontinuing the entire policy was not the same as being declared ineligible.  I was still eligible.  There just wasn’t a policy that they offered that matched me anymore.  Which meant I didn’t match Guidestone’s qualifications either.  Strike three.  And so the arm of the Southern Baptist Convention that was established to assist pastors was useless when it came down to actually assisting this particular pastor.  Unless, of course, I quit Seaside and go to another church.  Sigh.  Thanks for … well, nothing. 

On the positive side, at least I will have health coverage of some kind.  I was automatically transferred to an HMO by Blue Cross Blue Shield.  That means we get to go through the joy of establishing with a Personal Care Physician who must then be involved in every decision there is regarding our care.  I will probably have to find another rheumatologist and neurologist within the system who will agree to work with the hefty chart I have accumulated over the years.  Either that or it will be back to page one again, trying new medications until I work my way back up to what I am on now that appears to be working well.  Strangely enough we found Chris’ doctor on their list, so I jumped in and signed us both up under her name.  She operates out of the UTMB clinic right around the corner from our house, so that’s another win.  And it is a lot cheaper that the PPO would have been.  So, hear me sighing a great sigh of resignation.  Guess we will officially be UTMB bound for the rest of our lives.  But is that such a bad thing?  At least we won’t have to leave the Island as much.

1 Peter 2:2-3 says, “Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.”

Father, thank you for being the Great Physician.  These insurance companies could sure use you to be the Great Administrator, though.  Amen.

December 14 – “Torrents”

Well, hats off and kudos to the brave souls who made their way to church yesterday.  We managed to navigate through the driving rain … and then it got bad.  Torrential.  It was impossible to walk from the car to the front door without wading through some serious puddles in the parking lot.  Umbrellas did some good, but only for the top third of your body, since the rain found a way to blow side to side and up under any attempt at covering yourself.  And then it got really cold.  Way down into the 50’s.  Dead of winter cold.  Neither of us had so much as a sweater, either. 

We thought for a while that it would just be me and Chris and Wes (we picked him up on our way).  We got everything ready and then sat around with Wes at the piano and sang some songs.  Some were Christmas carols.  Some were old show tunes or old songs he used to play at some of the piano bar gigs he had in the past.  Finally, about ten minutes after our posted start time and during somewhat of a lull in the weather, Jennifer and her three kids arrived.  Wes immediately got the two younger boys to gather around the piano so they could accompany him with tambourines.  They were pretty good, too.  While we jammed with them, Dan and Wendy arrived, so I went ahead with the teaching (which involved kids, which God had provided in Adrian and Andrew).  Sam finally got there, so we managed to break into double digits.  Ten for church.  Hey, it was fun. 

Afterwards we drove by to see if the Santa and reindeer Nathan had strapped to his roof had made it through the storm intact.  They all seemed to be hanging in there.  Nathan and April and Cailyn were actually crawling into their car at that moment to head to Saltgrass for some lunch.  They invited us to join them.  Who am I to turn down such a generous invitation?  My chicken fried steak was really good.  By the time we got back home we were full and tired and apparently Chris was very sleepy.  She actually  crashed out on the couch for an hour or so.  Of course I stayed awake the whole time, watching over her.  Well, maybe not the whole time.  After all, we had Freddy watching out for the both of us.  And we all know what feelings of safety and comfort are inspired by her intimidating presence. 

1 Peter 2:1 says, “Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind.”

Father, thank you for those eight other folks who braved the rain  to gather together and do some worshipping yesterday.  Bless them for that.  Amen.

December 13 – “The Bethlehem Babbler”

Well, Bethlehem Street Market is over and I think I might have my wife back.  Yes, the two are kind of related.  She somehow became the go-to person for the day, and she takes any responsibility like that to heart.  Chris poured her every waking hour into making the even successful, and from my perspective as pastor, it worked.  I have no idea what the numerical totals were, money or otherwise (although I’m pretty certain Chris can tell you exactly).  But I do know that there were a few hundred folks who walked around Seaside and received a free gift from us (a cloth shopping bag with Scripture imprinted on it and filled with a copy of the Gospel of John and a homemade Christmas ornament).  I got to talk to quite a few vendors and shoppers, and everyone seemed generally pleased with the way thing went down.  Oh, we have some logistical things to work on for next year.  Parking, for one, was an issue.  We even had a visit from one of Jamaica Beach’s finest because one of the roads was almost blocked with cars.  He was very patient with us, though, and the offenders soon drove away happy, oblivious to their near-ticket experience.  And we had a “Just to let you know” visit from the real estate office next door about us taking up all their parking spaces, but there were no vendors involved, so the problem was short-lived.  And they weren’t mad enough to stay away from the scrumptious barbeque sandwiches in the kitchen.  Or was it the taco soup?  I heard that stuff sold out first.  (A Chris Vaughan specialty, I might add). 

Our Seaside work crew was nothing short of phenomenal.  Several Seasiders took yard signs to advertise.  Others posted the event on FaceBook.  We had some trouble getting an ad in the newspaper (The kind we actually wanted to PAY for).  For some strange reason the “right person” wouldn’t return our calls.  They did get us in the community Christmas events section, though.  Thank you to Lauren for taking care of that.  Shawn picked up the Block Party Trailer from LaMarque so we could have the bouncy house.  And that monster was set up and torn down with help from Cory, Jason, and Irv.  Jason also built the goat pen and got them settled in for the day.  We always get so many great comments about the goats.  Robert was there to help get the wooden sign up, and Lauren came in early (before she had to leave to board the ship for her cruise … that’s commitment) to help get signs posted everywhere.  Bob and Espy and Grace handled kitchen duties admirably.  Kara and Adrian and Dayna manned the Bethlehem’s Best Sweets booth.  And among them all, they kept the Christmas music rolling (which most of the time consisted of the Chipmunks, I noticed).  Speaking of music, Wes set up Christmas music for the worship center and for those outside. 

I met one shopper couple who wanted to be placed on the vendor list for next year.  Another couple’s only question was “What time are your Christmas Eve services?  We’ll be there.”  Another asked what time our Sunday services started.  I even had several sidewalk counseling sessions when folks found out I was the pastor.  We got the gospel into the hands of quite a few people.  Chris heard one of them say she couldn’t wait to get home and “check out the little book.  It looks really interesting.”  Interesting, indeed, ma’am.  May God use it to touch and change your heart forever.

1 Peter 1:24-25 says, “For, ‘All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord stands forever.’  And this is the word that was preached to you.”

Father, thanks for covering our meager efforts yesterday.  it sure wouldn’t have been the same without your presence.  Amen.