December 20 – “Level Two”

I had to create a Level Two journal today.  The blog has caught on with so many different people from so many different places, that now I have to be careful what I include every day.  I want it to be encouraging and informative.  I know that some days I get depressed or frustrated and it comes through in what I write, but that's just me, and that much won't change.  I'll just keep some of my "Dear Diary" rantings between me and God.   Over the last week or two we have received at least four separate bits of news that have really punched me personally in the gut.  The latest was about the church we came to Galveston from.  It is in Denver, Colorado.  Seems that the church split into two factions.  One merged with a suburban church.  The other stayed and for a time paid rent on the facility to the suburb group.  The suburban group then decided to sell the old facility and told the others that they had to leave.  They are now meeting in a community facility and are reaching people of all races, but they have decided to sue the first group.  Very depressing.    Combine those news tidbits with Chris' Mom and aunt dying within a few months of each other and our worship pastor (and friend) moving to Waco, and it has not been a happy Christmas season so far.    So for the last few days I have been grieving.  I have been depressed.  But I have actually felt better physically than I have in months.  I started on an anti-inflammatory drug that seems to be working.  I have to give it a month and then check my blood again.  If my liver functions are messed up, then we know that it's caused by the only thing that gives me pain relief.  So then I'll have to decide if I want pain relief or my liver.  But that's not a problem yet, so I can't make it one.    Chris has given me the best encouragement so far.  She reminded me that now I need to focus on the positive things that God is doing.  I need to get started on that list.    Psalms 36:9-11 says, "For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.  Continue your love to those who know you, your righteousness to the upright in heart.  May the foot of the proud not come against me, nor the hand of the wicked drive me away."   Father, I give you my grief.  I give you my depression.  And I give you my thanks.  For right now, that's about all I can muster.  Amen.

December 12 – “To Lanny”

We had a farewell lunch today at our dinner on the grounds.  Our worship pastor Lanny is moving to Waco to be closer to his family.  It is going to be hard to lose him.    I appreciated the way Lanny "got it" – the "Seaside Way" - right off the bat, and jumped in with both feet.  He was raised in a First Baptist Church atmosphere, and it was an adjustment for him to be in a laid-back, informal environment.  He always liked that we tried to keep things real and gave people permission to take off their church masks.   He is dedicated to Scripture, so it was second nature for him to look in his personal study for discoveries that would affect how we "do worship."  He was so excited when he told me about the folks in the Old Testament always hearing from the Word of God first, then responding in praise and worship.  So we switched the order of worship to do the teaching first.   One thing I remember about Lanny and Christmas is the way he led Christmas carols.  Whether we did Caroling at the Corner or riding around in a trailer, we sang true Christmas carols rather than the hodgepodge of melodies usually included in that repertoire (Like Jingle Bells, or Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer).   He was amazing when it came to listening to God in his preparation for worship.  I never had to give him the sermon titles weeks in advance.  He prayed and I prayed, and even when I was led to change the teaching at the last minute, God saw to it that the worship time was honoring to him.  And most of the time the songs were perfect for the teaching.  He was a master at blending hymns with praise and worship choruses.  That's what I have always mentioned when I have talked to people about Seaside's music style.  He always responded to my requests to change the order of worship or add a song with a grin and those wonderful words … "We're flexible!"  Ah, music to my ears.   Lanny gave us a model of an inspirational man of prayer.  When he said he would pray, it was not a flippant thing for him.  It meant that if he had to, he would get up even earlier to make sure that prayer happened.  I want to stay on his list!   Lanny always encouraged me during the times of craziness we have gone through.  His support has been a powerful sustaining factor in my own personal struggles with pain and surgeries and … well, people.   So.  I love this guy.  May God walk with him always.   Psalms 36:5-7 says, "Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies.  Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the great deep.  O Lord, you preserve both man and beast.  How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings."   Father, allow Lanny to find refuge in you wherever he is.  Amen.

December 18 – “DadDad and Dink”

I finally heard Cailyn say, "DadDad" instead of lumping me in the broad category of all the daddies in the world.  She spent the night with us last night.  First April prompted her a time or two.  She had to think about it for awhile, and then very deliberately say each syllable.  Kind of reminded me of when we were teaching Kel to say the word, "Drink."  Apparently we were making subconscious movements every time we said the word.  When he finally "got it," his head would nod forward quickly like he was agreeing with himself, and he would say, "Dink."  Close enough.    Thought I would insert a quick update from the rheumatoid arthritis front.  As of yesterday there has been change symptom wise.  Pain still wakes me up some nights, which is really weird.  I told the doctor yesterday that the way I figure it's the pain waking me is by whatever the first thing I think of.  Sometimes I wake up having dreamed of someone in particular.  That means, I surmise, that I am to pray for that person, no matter how strange the dream sounds.  But sometimes the first thing I think of is, "Hey.  My knee really hurts," or something along those lines.  That's when I figure the pain woke me up.  When I told the doctor that, he laughed and said, "If pain woke me up I think I would be saying something more than that.  Must be your religious training."  Oh, well.  He did give me a prescription for an anti-inflammatory med.  Or rather, he gave me samples for a month.  I told him we hit the end of our yearly allowable benefit with insurance, so I wouldn't buy any more meds until January.  He didn't like that idea, so he hooked me up with the samples.  Now I have to really watch to see if it eats up my liver again.  It's supposed to take a couple of days before I would see any results.  And if there aren't any results in a couple of days, I'm supposed to increase the dose.  Again with the waiting.   We have finally started receiving Christmas cards just about every day, so Chris got in high gear with our annual Christmas letter.  She usually types out the first draft, then I go back and add my comments.  She moved quickly, though, so I spent most of the morning doing my editing while we both played with Cailyn.  This afternoon we have to go to Office Depot and get another ink cartridge for our printer so we can get it all printed out.  The letter should be going out soon.    Romans 9:14-16 says, "What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! For he says to Moses, 'I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.'  It does not, therefore, depend on man's desire or effort, but on God's mercy."   Father, thank you for that mercy.  Amen.

December 17 – “Living past the expiration date”

The Home Group Christmas party was a lot of fun.  Especially for me, because I knew all the answers to the Christmas Quiz everybody got to take.  It was all about Christmas carols.  Only not in the conventional sense.  They had to figure out what the carol was from some clues.  One section the titles all got shortened.  Like: I  D  O  A  W  C.  And how about: I  C  U  T  M  C?  Maybe you can get something easier, like: I  S  M  K  S  C.   If you had trouble with those, try these: Vehicular homicide was committed on Dad's mom by a precipitous darling. Obese personification fabricated of compressed mounds of minute crystals. The quadruped with the vermillion proboscis.   Maybe you are better with a straight trivia quiz: Who wants a pair of hop-a-long boots and a pistol that shoots? Who kept time to the drum? (Careful on that one). Why does the child want his two front teeth? When will I finally go?   Guess you'll have to ask me for the answers if you can't get them.  Or just ask someone who was there last night.   One of the girls told me a great story last night of something that happened to her.  She was in the milk aisle at Krogers.  A man reached in to get a jug of milk, and as he stared at it, he sighed.  She asked if he was OK.  His response was something along the lines of, "It's really bad, isn't it, when you hope that you'll live long enough to get past the expiration date on your milk?"  Now, she is not the type to get into extended conversations with strangers (although she has no problem after she gets to know you).  But this time she followed up with a few questions and found out that the guy had a friend who died a week or so ago, and it really shook him up.  They apparently talked about church in general for awhile, and Seaside in particular.  And she did something that surprised her.  She asked the guy if she could pray for him.  And then she did.    She was kind of hesitant to tell me about it.  She didn't think I would be particularly interested in something that I "probably do all the time, anyway."  Jen, as I told you last night, "it feels better to me when I hear that you have done it than when I get to do it myself."  Way to go, Jen.  Way to go, God.   2 Timothy 4:1-2 says, "In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I give you this charge: Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage — with great patience and careful instruction."   Father, thank you for using Jen to touch that guy's heart in the milk aisle.  Give her more chances.  Amen.

December 16 – “A 4 Year Old Philosopher”

Our Home Group White Elephant party is tonight, so there has been quite a flurry of activity around here all afternoon.  Chris is definitely in "cleaning mode," so I try to stay out of her way when I can and do little things to help out.  I did manage to put my clothes away and get some work done.    But the star of today has been Micah, our 4 year-old grandson.  His brothers both had doctor's appointments this morning, so he came over here to play with us.  That's a pretty special treat for the newly inaugurated middle child in that family.  He already has some highlights on Facebook on his Mom's page.  Micah is quite the conversationalist … and philosopher.   He really wanted to play outside, so we started off in a rousing game of imaginary baseball.  The rules were roughly akin to regular baseball, but whenever Micah scored it seemed to count for four points.  And Nana had zero points.  I was usually considered to be on Micah's team, even when I pitched the imaginary ball to him.  The game really got interesting, though when he switched it over to animals of the jungle baseball.  Each of us had to become an animal and play baseball as that creature would.  Chris said she was a baboon.  I immediately chose to be an elephant.  Imagine the fastball I could toss with my trunk.  Of course it couldn't compare with Micah's fastball to Nana.  She never did see it.  I was excited about batting, too. As an elephant.  Imagine the power in my stroke.  Especially since I was on Micah's team.  I was destined for glory.  Micah was a monkey for awhile, but when it came down to taking his turn at bat, he became a leopard.  And you should have seen it when he took his swings … with his tail.  There was no one on earth who could have thrown him out after that sight.  Except maybe his older brother, but he wasn't here.   On one of our breaks Micah and I were discussing what the animals liked to eat.  He was a monkey at the time, so bananas were his choice.  I was still an elephant, so I asked if I could have one.  "No, DadDad.  Elephants eat hay."  I didn't see any hay, but he assured me there was some over on the side of the house.   Just after that we sat down in the grass and Micah sighed, "I wanna be something really fast, but I don't wanna be a butterfly."  I asked why and he quickly replied, "Because first you have to be a caterpillar, and I really don't want to be a caterpillar."  Hmm.  I had to ponder that one for a moment.  I finally told him, "Yep.  Sometimes we have to do stuff we don't like before we can do stuff we do like.  Kinda like being a caterpillar before you can be a butterfly."  He looked at me with a deadly serious stare, and after what seemed a long silence, he quietly said, "Yeah, DadDad.  That's right."   It didn't take long sitting in the grass before he discovered a few snails in the garden.  One of them experienced the wrath of the Micah Monster rather quickly. But as he stood with his foot poised over the snail ready to stomp, he paused and asked, "Can I squish him?"  How do you say no to a little boy in mid-squish?  We did find a few others, though.  And I suggested we go look in the garage for a box to build a snail habitat.  That was grand news.  Now he could take them home with him.  The garage door opened to reveal our pile of garage-type junk.  But not so to Micah's eyes.  No, indeed.  This was a treasure trove of priceless artifacts.  "Wow, DadDad.  You have a broken chair," he said in awe.  "And you have a wagon.  DadDad, you have everything."   Now how can I not be content?  I have everything.   Philippians 4:11-13 says, "I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do everything through him who gives me strength."   Father, thank you for packing so much wisdom in the mouths of little guys like Micah.  Amen.

December 15 – “The girls”

Well, those girls did it.  Chris and seven of her cousins were selected as pall bearers for her Aunt Hope's funeral yesterday.  They all sat together at the church with their carnation boutonnières.  The lady who worked for the funeral home was mystified and amazed that they were seriously going to be the pall bearers.  Really.  These girls were actually going to carry Aunt Hope's casket.  Plenty of guy cousins were prepared to step in and take over, but oh, no.  Aunt Hope wanted the girls.  So the girls she got.  And to a woman they were determined that they were not going to drop Aunt Hope, no matter what terrain they had to scale, no matter what hills or holes lay in their path.  The task would get done.   Originally only six of them were scheduled.  At least there were only six names listed in the handout.  Perhaps the extra two were a nod to their anticipated fragile natures.  Nay.  Not these girls.  I think the extra two just didn't want to get left out on the event of the century.  Why, two of them even took their place in high heels.    The walk from the church to the hearse was not very far, so it didn't seem to be much trouble.  But I was not the only one paying careful attention after we arrived at the cemetery.  The walk was longer.  It involved dropping into a ditch and coming back up out of it.  It meant making at least one turn.  And it meant that final lift at the gravesite to place it on the holders.  But the ladies made their stand.  Away from the car they began.    The walk was not without its "interesting" moments.  The high heels proved difficult, for they tended to sink easily into the ground, and refused to pull out quite as easily.  I thought one would be left behind – one shoe, I mean.  The girl wasn't about to drop out – but a final tug and lift off.  The other key point of difficulty came because there were eight instead of the usual six.  With no military cadence to guide them, the ladies had to avoid stepping on each other's feet.  I heard someone say, "OK.  Left, right." But alas, without the whole entourage stopping and beginning again, the cadence idea was doomed to failure.  So instead, the resourceful ladies solved the problem a different way.  They simply took smaller steps.  Much smaller steps.  Perhaps it took them a bit longer, but they made all the progress they needed.    The final test would be that lift at the end.  But just before they reached the end of the journey, they felt an unexpected lurch.  Puzzled faces turned this way and that as they tried to figure out the source of the mysterious tug.  Had someone given out?  Was there actually going to be a drop?  Oh, no.  Not even close.  It seems that one of the particularly large guy cousins just couldn't stand it any longer.  And with a big grin on his face, he had stepped into place at the rear end of the casket and lifted.  Aunt Hope had arrived.  And her dream of being delivered by her girls was a reality.  And the experience was indeed one that the family will not soon forget.   James 1:17 says, "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."   Father, thank you for the gift those sweet girls delivered today.  Receive Aunt Hope into your arms.  Amen.

December 14 – “Pall Bearer”

We are heading to a funeral today.  Chris' mother's sister died a few days ago, and the service is at a church in Needville, Texas.  We went to the visitation last night, which was at a funeral home in Rosenberg, Texas.  The death was unexpected, so they had to do some scrambling to get all the arrangements done.  A grandson was on active military duty in Afghanistan, so they contacted him and he was able to make arrangements to get home on emergency leave.  Chris has a pretty tight-knit family group.  Lots of cousins.  And the last six months there have been four or five deaths in the family, so they have gotten together more in that six months than they have in years.  It's fun to watch them together.  It reminds me of that Olive Garden commercial on TV when the guy says their gathering feels just like they are back at the kids' table for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.  Lots of remembering going on, which is very healthy.   While we there Chris found out that her aunt had made an unusual request.  Ordinarily, the way of the family has been that all the guy cousins act as pall bearers at the funeral service.  That's the way it was when Chris' Mom died.  But Aunt Hope wanted something different.  She said the guys always had to do the dirty work, so … since she had lost a lot of weight, she wanted the cousin girls to be her pall bearers.  Nice call, Aunt Hope.  Different is good.   But that meant Chris had to have a white shirt and black slacks.  That's the "required attire" in these family situations.  So on the way home we stopped at a JC Penney's and found her a very nice white shirt.  She already had the pants.  Now she's all set.  Needville, here we come.   2 Corinthians 9:15 says, "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"   Father, bring peace and comfort to this great family.  Amen.