December 18 – “Stuck in an elevator”

Have you ever been stuck in an elevator?   Oh, wait.  Before I go into that I guess I should admit that my morning was not very fun.  I had one of those "spastic colon" stomach aches that only someone like Anna Allen who has been there can adequately understand.  The tough part of it is that even when it begins, I know that it's going to keep hurting until it runs its course.  There's no amount of Zantac that helps.  Sometimes there are brief periods of respite, but until it is completely finished … watch out.  I thought I was finished at one point, but ended up "requiring the facilities" at WalMart.  Apparently there is nothing that can be done about it.  Probably in my head – stress related and all that.   So back to the elevator.  I stopped by Alamo School to pick up several boxes of books.  A pastor out in California actually donated 50 sets of books to be distributed to the Galveston area pastors.  Now, Alamo school is one that the Galveston school district has stopped using for classes.  It was somewhat damaged by the storm, but the district is allowing a relief organization, "Somebody Cares Galveston" to use it for a year.  They were the book distributors.  I went with two of the workers to the back of the school where two of us entered the elevator.  The one with me joked, "If you don't hear from me soon, come get us."  The other replied, "You're right.  We have been having problems with this one, haven't we?"  All in good fun, I thought.  That is, until the doors began to close and the worker with me started checking for a cell phone.  She said, "I have three cell phones and left them all at the front desk.  Do you have yours?"  Mine was sitting in my truck.  Should it be in my pocket?    The car began moving upward, and we both breathed a little easier.  We watched the readout of numbers anxiously to see when we would reach our destination.  Now, that's an interesting elevator phenomenon, isn't it?  Next time you're in one, watch people's eyes.  Invariably they watch the readout.  All it's going to do is count up or down, one number at a time.  And in most cases you don't have to watch, because they have installed that little "Ding" at each floor.  It's usually very quiet in elevators, and in most cases everybody faces the door.  Except when there are those little handlebars things on the side.  Then those people fortunate enough to be nearby will hang on to that for dear life.  Want to have a little fun?  Next time you get in an elevator, face the back, look directly at someone and ask them what time it is.  They will have to look away from the number and actually say something out loud.  Not an easy elevator task.   Just as we began to relax and talk the little "Ding" sounded and we both looked expectantly at the door.  Except it didn't open.  My companion chuckled nervously and again checked her pockets for a cell phone.  The door didn't open.  She reached over and pushed the "Open Door" button.  The door didn't open.  She pushed it again, several times in rapid succession (You know, you've done it, too).  The door didn't open.  I pushed it.  Nope.  The she jumped at the door, slammed into it with both hands, and jumped quickly backward.  The door didn't open.  But I jumped, too.  Scared me.  She did that one more time before she explained that she had been injured once in an elevator accident so she was more than a little freaked out.  Then she reached over and hit the alarm button.  It worked.  Really loud.  I was beginning to think I had seen this movie.  The door didn't open.   Finally I stepped up.  Did the superman thing.  I stuck one hand on each door and pulled them apart with my bare hands.  We were about six inches from where we were supposed to be.  Just enough for the door's built-in safety mechanism to keep it closed.  It's Ok.  We escaped unscathed and took the stairs down.   I imagine there are plenty of people who get really close, but not quite there in their search for God.  Psalms 34:18 says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."   Father, I want to be close to you.  But honestly, sometimes I just don't want to be brokenhearted, and certainly not crushed in spirit.  Please don't hold those "it's all about me" times against me.  Amen.

December 17 – “Mail”

I went to the house by myself today.  Chris and Mom had a Wednesday Club Christmas party somewhere in Santa Fe.  Before I left Nathan gave me a pretty good idea for shoveling insulation.  Since it's so light, he suggested I shove it onto a big tarp, then drag the tarp out to the street and dump it.  Sounded worth a try, but the try never got tried.  I forgot that we were using the tarps to cover up the stuff in the back yard.  And it was supposed to rain off and on today.  Back to Plan A – the trusty shovel and wheelbarrow.    As I dug in and began the tedious repetition – scoop it up, drop it in, scoop it up, drop it in, wheel it away, dump it out – I went into that mode where your body keeps on moving, but your mind stops paying attention.  Happened to me all the time in school.  This time I got to thinking about the mail.  When would it get here?  Would it be our regular mailman?  I hope it comes while I'm here.  I don't want to miss it.  I was getting obsessive about the mail.   Now, I know part of today's concern had to do with the fact that we are still waiting for our flood insurance check to come.  That will mean we really can begin building – and actually pay for some of it.  But there was something else, too.   The mail was coming – to our house.  To our dilapidated, messed up, storm-ravaged, nobody's at home, empty house.  To this place with what look to me like new cracks in the front porch from the roots of that big whatever-it-is tree.  It looks to me like we'll have to cut it down – one more thing to add to our never-ending demo list.  Maybe it hasn't affected the foundation.  Maybe I'll get to buy a chain saw.   But the house.  Our house.  It is receiving mail.  That speaks hope, doesn't it?  I think maybe it's not that I'm a little obsessive about the mail.  Maybe instead I'm more than a little obsessive about hope.  When I was in college a friend of mine was in a band called "The Blessed Hope."  My favorite song they sang had a line that went, "I'm just an old happy, Hippy Holy Roller, praising the Lord my God."  Hey, it was the 70's.  We were hippies - just really young ones.   Titus 2:13 says that "we wait for the blessed hope — the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ."   Father, hope sometimes gets a bad rap, what with it playing second banana to love there in 1 Corinthians and all.  But thank you for hope.  I need it more and more.  Amen.

December 16 – “Trust”

My intention today was to take it easy for awhile, maybe take Mom to Luby's, then come back and get some sleep.  Part of that plan worked out.  Until I opened the mail.  We got a bill from good ol' Ma Bell (AKA nowadays AT&T).  Ordinarily that would not be so unusual.  But we have not had phone service or internet service since – oh, around September 13th.  And the bill covered the entire time and then some.  Over $400.  That warrants a phone call, don't you think?   The first layer of protection beyond an interminable time on hold listening to jazz music resulted in quite a generous offer on their part.  Said they would include a $75 credit on our next bill.  Said that was the best she could do.  I said that she must not be who I needed to talk to, then.  I asked to speak to someone "higher up on the totem pole."   Layer two didn't last long.  Well, not long after someone finally answered from the midst of the jazz.  Must have been a portal stop only.  She put me on hold right away and pushed me off to Level three.  The wait for this level was a long one, so I felt I had good cause for high expectations.  And it seemed that I was to be rewarded.  This lady jumped right in with her "I'm sorry, sir" and "I'll see what I can do."  Her second "Hold on, please," didn't even last but three or four minutes.  Her contribution – "I have removed all telephone charges from your bill from September 13th to today."  I jumped at the chance for clarification.  "Does that mean my next bill will say I owe nothing?"  A quick answer, "You will owe nothing for telephone charges."  Now I was getting very suspicious.  "What will I owe for, then?"  "Well."  OK, when someone starts with one of those long drawn-out "well's" you have to know something is coming.  Her particular "well" had something to do with the internet service not being included in what she was talking about.  I would have to talk to Level four to get that taken care of.   Same music.  Same long wait.  Finally I got to the internet specialist who checked out my "for security reasons" questions again.  Following what was obviously customer service protocol, she almost immediately put me on hold again.  To make what was for me a much longer story than this short … I know – too late – this layer finally said the internet charges were also removed.  But was I delirious with joy?  Did I thank her profusely?  Not so much.  I asked her if that meant my bill would read zero next month.  I explained that I wanted to get it all out in the open now.  I even asked if I still had to talk to somebody to remove long distance charges.  She gave me all kinds of assurances.  Our bill should be clear until such time as we sign back up.   Trust is a strange thing.  Especially when someone teaches you so well to not trust them.  Proverbs 3:5-6 says "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."    Father, thank you that I can trust you.  Especially when I can't even fully trust myself.

December 15 – “We would like to remind you”

Today made up for all the "not thinking about the house" that went on yesterday.  We decided early on that we needed to hit the old insulation dig and do some work.  First I had to pay some bills.  Among the stack?  Insurance for windstorm and flood.  I guess if they are accepting our money for 2009, then we're OK for another year.  Bring it on, Ike, Jr.  The electric company charged us for using eight kilowatt hours of electricity last month.  I called and asked how that was possible since Centerpoint has not connected us to the power pole yet.  She called Centerpoint and they confirmed that the power was not yet connected.  Imagine that.  Maybe this will get them to come hook it up sooner.   Ah, the Ceiling Saga.  We went to the house right after lunch.  It was still there.  Nothing had changed – I finished pulling out ceiling sheetrock in what was our old pantry and in all of the garage.  Chris finished pulling nails in the rest of the house.  So.  Once again we are knee deep in insulation and broken sheetrock with nails sticking out of the ceiling – but at least this time it's just in the garage.  The rest of the house is one thick layer of dust.    A substitute mailperson came today.  She got there really early, so I forgot to mail the bills I worked so hard on.  Oh, well.  Tomorrow.  She delivered some good news, though.  We got our windstorm check back from our mortgage company.  Now we can get a new roof to go over our naked ceiling.  Definitely cause for celebration.  At least it would be.  They had to ruin our excitement – well, maybe not ruin.  Probably just toned it down some.  See, along with the check came a frightening, threatening "we would like to remind you" promise to send an inspector if we don't use the money to make the repairs needed on the house.   Use the check for the purpose for which it was issued.  We should do that with our bodies as well.  1 Corinthians 6:19-20 says, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body."   Father, keep reminding me.  Amen.

December 14 – “Goats”

I almost didn't think about our house at all today.  It was Sunday, so I had all kinds of other things to think about.  Also, I was still feeling pretty crummy.  I had no idea how long I'd be able to last during the teaching.  But Sunday morning worked out really well.  We had a lot of feedback during the teaching, so I didn't have to make all the points myself.  Lots of smart people out there.  We got all set up for school tomorrow, and plans began in earnest for the new approach to Christmas caroling that was to come tonight.   That's what made today memorable, I think.  We had a pretty good crowd.  Lots of food and hot chocolate and apple cider.  Our plan was to dress up the little kids in Bible era costumes and have them stand around a manger we had.  The Stones were bringing three of their goats, so we would have some live animals as well.  The rest of us were going to stand behind them and sing carols.  All set up at the corner by the traffic light.  Sounded like a great plan.  And we've never done it that way before, so … why not give it a try?    Well, our plans didn't work out quite as we planned.  The manger was there.  The goats were there.  The red-headed doll playing the part of Jesus was safely hidden beneath blankets in the manger.  But some of the kids couldn't get there, and the ones who were there kind of balked at this weird new idea.  So we all just gathered around the manger and started singing.  By the time we got to the 17th song several cars had rolled down their windows and encouraged us.  More than a few cars ran the stop sign.  One family parked their car and joined us! I would say it was a very successful Seaside-style event.   So what kind of spiritual application did I get out of today?  It came from the goats.  Well, one goat in particular.  A black, shaggy one.  They said it was an angora, whatever that means.  A little two-year-old (Ian) insisted that it was a sheep, and I wasn't going to argue with him.  Anyway, my old legs got tired after awhile, so I sat down in the grass next to the manger.  About that time two motorcycles roared up to the sign.  The goats didn't like it, to say the least.  The black shaggy one crawled right over me to hide.  With all my vast knowledge of goats, I started talking to it, trying to settle it down.  Now, I'm a dog kind of guy, and I talk to my dogs.  You know, "Sit.  Stay.  No, Fritz!"  But this felt strange.  Talk to a bag of shag that was born to make sweaters.  She calmed down, though.  Yeah.  I got word that it was a she.  I think it even had a name, but I didn't hear that.    So she warmed up to me and moved around behind the manger.  That's when she did something that kind of struck me.  She stuck her head into it as if to eat.  I remember thinking, "That animal knows what the manger is supposed to be for.  It's a feed trough, and she was hoping for a snack."  Now, I could go from there and make a good application about what the manger was really for that first Christmas.  But get this.  After we finished and were heading inside, Jim, the Mr. Green Jeans owner of the goats told me that the black, shaggy, bag of expensive scarves was not looking for a snack after all.  She was looking for a place to sleep.  Seems these goats have found a new use for the feed troughs at home.  They jump in them and take naps.    OK, now I was really excited.  They animals had made my application for me.  They knew better than all of us what that manger was really for.  It was for feeding, sure.  After all, Jesus said, "I am the bread of life.  He who comes to me will never go hungry.  And he who believes in me will never be thirsty" (John 6:35).   But more importantly, it was for sleeping – a place for a little baby to sleep.  "And she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."  What a Christmas story.  Maybe I can come up with a Children's story for Christmas Eve.   Father, thank you for my experience sitting with the goats.  Show me how I can keep someone warm this Christmas.  Amen.

December 13 – “Feeling Crummy”

Today was a tough day for me.  I felt really bad.  Sore throat.  Ache all over.  But I figured that I couldn't get sick right now.  Chris and Mom went to another baby shower for April.  That meant I had to get the church at least a little bit clean and set up for church tomorrow.  And speaking of church, if I had to preach right now, we'd have to have a service of all singing.  The drive home was difficult.  I didn't sleep so well last night, so my body was doing its best to make up for it.  Chris was good about checking in with me to see if we needed to stop.  We did make one extra "MeeMaw looks like she needs a chocolate milk shake" stop.  And we did make it.  They got to the baby shower on time.  I did a monstrous job of cleaning the church.    I remembered to stop by the house to get the mail.  Guess what?  We got a letter from the city.  They have determined that our house was not substantially damaged by Hurricane Ike.  It was our "official" permission slip to keep doing what we've been doing.  I also saw in the paper that City Council had a change of heart and is dropping the requirement to have a permit to put up sheetrock.  It has a time limit on it.  Some time in January.  Maybe we'll get in on that deal.   You know what just hit me?  God is God, even when my day is pitiful.  In Matthew 28:20, Jesus says, "I am with you always, even to the end of the age."   Father, my throat hurts.  I feel crummy.  I know that's usually a "Mommy" kind of thing, but thanks for letting me come to you,too.  Amen.

December 12 – “Ornaments and Stories”

Master of Theology in New Testament Exposition and Exegesis.  That's what it said on Josh's diploma.  At least I think that was it.  I know what it means, though.  It means the boy can preach and he knows what he's talking about.  Is his Daddy proud?  Oh, yeah.    One guy in Josh's church with a really dry sense of humor came up to me and asked, "Would you be proud if Josh got a Phd?  Well, I should have suspected something from this particular guy.  But I answered right away, "Sure!"  He turned to my son the graduate and said, "See, Josh, I told you your Dad won't be proud of you until you get that PhD."    Tonight we got a real surprise.  We thought we were going to a surprise graduation party for Josh.  Turns out the surprise was for us.  Some old friend of ours got together and had everyone bring Christmas ornaments for us to replace the ones we lost in the flood.  That's a great sentiment in and of itself, but they didn't just bring any old ornaments.  They had meaning behind them.  One was "a bell from my grandmother's tree."  One was a large nail. The idea was for that ornament to be placed on the tree first, in an inconspicuous place, to remind us that the birth of Christ was all about his death for our sins.  A few were made by their children, who even signed them.  One was a tree ornament from Santa Fe.  The girl bought it the year she got married, and still had the original box it came in.  One of our dearest friends gave Chris three ornaments, and told her what each meant to her.  Chris was already tearing up when added, "And I got three identical ornaments to put on my tree this year so I would think of you when I saw them.  Chris lost it.  Then it got "worse."  She handed her an ornament that Chris had made for them years before.  "I wanted you to have it back."  OK, the floodgates were opened.  The whole party was like that.  Ornaments and stories.  It was nothing short of an emotional explosion.  A couple we hadn't seen in years even walked in and handed us an ornament.  Wow.   Then one of the guys called me over to the bedroom door and handed me an envelope.  He and his wife were really special to us over the years, and they had picked up with Josh as well.  I opened the envelope and was speechless.  There was a set of keys and the title to that blue truck we borrowed awhile back when we first started working on the house.  The Blue Truck is back.  But they gave it to us.  It's a '92 GMC, and it's in better shape than either of our two cars.  The guy said now we could trade in both of our other cars for a new one and have the truck to boot.  I'm still stunned.   One of my favorite verses is Matthew 6:33, "Seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be added as well."  I don't remember when we have had so much "added" to us.   Father, we feel very unworthy right now.  Thank you for friends.  Thank you for friends who get a kick out doing their Christianity.  Amen.