Parents, Am I an EGR? At some point in my rebellion, one of the pastor’s from my home church decided to reach out to me and another friend. We were both a part of a youth group a few years before that “had so much potential,” according to another pastor at the church. My pastor friend was wise and full of grace. He loved us and wanted to see us turn the corner and come back to live the faith we had strongly professed a few years before but were running so far away from at the time. He was taking a group of college students on a ski trip in the North Carolina mountains and asked us to be “ski instructors,” since we had both been skiers for several years and many of the students had never skied before. He told us he would have us a place to stay and buy our lift tickets if we would give some ski lessons in the morning and ski on our own afterward. My friend and I decided we would drive to the mountain ourselves rather than riding with the others. We arrived at the cabin and dropped our bags in our room and told them we were going to get dinner, since they had already eaten. They were going to have a Bible Study and invited us to join them when we got back. My friend and I were not thrilled about that idea. We weren’t opposed to Bible Study per se, it just wasn’t a priority for us at the time (or TBH, we may have been afraid of feeling convicted of our rebelliousness by the Word of Truth). So, we went to dinner… at a bar and grill. We stayed until we thought the Bible Study was over and went back to the cabin filled with the “spirits” and not The Spirit. It was almost midnight. We thought everyone would be in bed and we would just quietly walk straight to our room undetected. To our surprise, the lights were still on, so we snuck into the front door and discovered they were all engaged in prayer… for US! We tried to keep sneaking past them to our room. We stumbled right through the middle of them as they were making intercessions eyes closed, heads down, on our behalf. Rebellion, however, held us fast, we refused to join them, and we quickly went to our room without acknowledging anyone. The next morning we arose to an empty cabin and screaming headaches. The group had gone on to the slopes, since we had overslept. We finally made it to the slopes and made a half hearted effort to find our ski students. We decided our lift tickets shouldn’t go to waste, so we proceeded to ski on the advanced slopes and continue to ‘look” for the beginner skiers there. At the end of the day we hopped in the car and left, without a word. As I look back on this, I’m so ashamed, not just of my rebellious behavior, but the relationships I had injured or missed out on. My pastor, full of love and grace, was quick to forgive and continued to pursue a friendship with me. He would later be one of the officiants at my wedding. He had so much grace for an EGR = Extra Grace Required i.e. a person who needs lots of grace. God seems to surround me with those people for some reason: spouse, mentors, co-workers… the list goes on. I’m grateful for them all.
Sunday, September 27, 2020
Parents, Am I an EGR? Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Friday, September 25, 2020
Update On My Daughter from August 5th Post.
Update. Some of you asked to be updated on my daughter’s recovery from the horrendous car crash one late afternoon at the beginning of August. A car spun out of control and crossed the middle lines of the street going more than 50 MPH hitting my daughter and her boyfriend head on. Virginia passed out for more than 10 minutes and when she became conscious again she was screaming uncontrollably. She had several bumps, bruises, seat belt and airbag rashes, and an injury called dashboard knee. Dashboard knee happens when the shin hits the dashboard so hard it pushes the lower leg out of place and stretches the ligaments in the knee. Virginia’s posterior cruciate ligament was torn. Her boyfriend, who was starting Med school the next week, was impacted by the crash too, but was able to grip the steering wheel to keep from being tossed around so much. The puppy ended up in the back window of the car, scared and traumatised. We got to Memphis as quickly as we could. Her boyfriend and his family gave her tremendous care from the moment the wreck happened getting her to the hospital and a doctor’s care immediately. We joined in the care the next morning and helped her in her apartment for a week. After much prayer and thought, we sensed God was leading us to bring her to our home to recover. So, from Memphis to Columbus we took her and her puppy on a painful 10 hour drive. Miraculously, she was able to see a doctor within a couple of days. She has been in physical therapy for more than 6 weeks under the care of great doctors, PAs, and therapists. She is now walking without crutches or brace and has been released from the Doctor’s care. The muscles around her knee and her core are getting stronger. Her boyfriend is well into his first semester of Med School and is doing well. We are praising God for all the ways He has cared for and protected her, her boyfriend and puppy, from the initial impact through recovery and beyond. Her boyfriend was able to find another reliable vehicle. And God has put His “exceeding and abundant” flare on this whole thing, because just as she is finishing her PT here in Columbus, she has learned that her company in Memphis, that had put her on furlough for 6 months because of COVID, is now bringing her back full time. We will miss her and her “little dog too,” but will always remember these special weeks of watching God’s work in all of our lives. Virginia has been a tremendous help to our church by using her digital skills helping us relaunch our Kid’s ministry after COVID, with Anita at the interim helm. Virginia may have to help remotely from the banks of the mighty Mississippi. Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers through this time.
Through all this our God has reminded us once again that He works all things, even things like car crashes, company furloughs, and global pandemics, together for His Glory, the Gospel, and our Good. In the Old Testament, when God was getting His people’s attention and they were experiencing some traumatic events, God says, “See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction. For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this. How can I let myself be defamed? I will not yield my glory to another.” Isaiah 48:10-11 (NIV) The apostle Paul also reminds us, “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28 (CSBBible) And God’s purpose is the Gospel... the Good News that He loves us all and made a Way for us to spend now and eternity with Him. We can always find God at work, even in the traumas of our lives.
Hang in there people! God is with us! I’m praying for us all!
Sunday, September 20, 2020
Parents, What Makes It All Worth It?** Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, What makes it all worth it? When one of the churches I served was between children’s ministers, the kids 4th-6th grade still planned on going to camp that had been planned before the last minister transitioned out. A very capable interim kids director said she would take the large group of upper elementary kids to camp. It was always a great camp experience, some wonderful leaders were going and it promised to be a time for lots of fun, growing together, and faith development. We were pleased in the transitional time that all the spots were filled and we had just enough leaders for the camp’s camper to counselor ratios. My children were all too young to go, and I was the young married adult pastor, so I was just prayer support for the leaders and kids going. A wonderful lady in the church wanted her grandson to go. This kid had been sent to grandma’s quickly, because of a family crisis. He had never been to camp, much less a church camp. He was from out of town, and didn’t have anyone around him who could teach him about the love of God except his grandmother and she only saw him occasionally. So, for some reason this sweet senior saint came to me after worship asking if this boy could go to camp. I didn’t make any promises, since registration had closed weeks ago and the camp was the next week. I told her I would ask the interim children’s director. The director gave me a good news, bad news situation… “the good news is we still have plenty of bunk and bus space for another kid, the bad news is we need another male counselor to stay in the bunkhouse with the kids to meet our required leader/camper ratios.” She said, if you can find another leader, this young man can go with us. God really laid this kid on my heart, so I searched and asked every man I could think of that morning, but couldn’t find anyone. Then I started telling God, surely you are not asking me to go, I have young kids at home and I have my whole young married ministry to do, I’m supposed to teach on Wednesday night, besides, I have a wedding rehearsal the day camp is over. The more I tried to back away from going, this kid and his grandmother kept coming back to mind. I could see the desperation on the grandmother’s face and the kid looked excited but was very guarded like he was used to feeling disappointment and hearing “no, you can’t…” There were so few positive faith influences for this kid, he may never hear about how much God loves him. So, after several minutes of checking with the entire staff of 14 ministers, I found someone whose schedule would let them take the last night and day or 2, so I could make the wedding rehearsal and he would teach my class, if I could take the rest of the week. So, I was able to tell the boy and his grandmother “Yes.” I went to camp. At the time, I had not had a lot of experience with elementary kids. I thought how bad could it be, right? Oh it was bad! Bananas sent by parents for snacks were flung everywhere in the bunkhouse during the “drive by fruiting incident.” These stinky elementary school boys who refused to take a shower had clothes all over the cabin (paying for my own camp days I guess, see http://williampmcg.blogspot.com/2020/07/parents-something-is-lost-and-must-be.html). They stuck fish-hooks in my fingers grabbing for fishing poles as I put the worms on them. I had sunburn and mosquito bites and no sleep on the rock hard bunk. At one point, I was concerned for my family when an F5 tornado was taking houses off their foundations not far from our home. I was way out of my comfort zone. I had no idea about disciplining other people’s kids who were out of control… I was just learning how to discipline my own preschoolers. I began feeling like Jonah, the reluctant prophet… I was complaining about everything. My attitude stunk like dirty camper socks. Although, I noticed the boy who got to come last minute was well mannered and listened intently to the messages each night. He was glad to be there. We had a great children’s camp pastor, who was a great teacher for kids. As my seminary professor used to say, “he could put the cookies on the bottom shelf so we could all understand” God’s great love for us. God was at work, but I was just too busy complaining to see it. On my last day, before the other minister came to finish the week, this boy, the boy who had been able to come because I came as a leader, came to stand next to me in the lunch line. Annoyed, I thought what is it now? Is he going to start complaining about something? My frustration from the week melted into shame, when he said, “I want to follow Jesus, what do I do next?” I led him through God’s plan to save us all: How God loved us so much He sent Jesus, His own Son to save us and let us connect our lives with Him now and forever. The boy recognized that he needed Jesus and said a prayer asking for Jesus to be with him all his life. I cried the whole drive back home… here I was complaining about how God had changed my plans, put me in a situation way out of my comfort zone and I couldn’t see God was at work changing this kid’s life forever.
Friday, September 18, 2020
Parents, What Are You Serving Up?* Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, what are you serving up? I had no idea what I was doing as my teacher/advisor showed me how to run the school concession stand for the football games. The juniors did it to raise money for Junior/Senior Prom and I was the one who was selected to get it ready each home game and train others to help. At the moment however, I knew nothing. We opened up the stand and it was really hot. You had to ice the lines for the soda fountain a few hours before the game so the syrup, water and carbon dioxide mixes just right, if not, you only served foam instead of soft drinks. You wanna know how I know that? Yep, one game I had forgotten to ice them because I was playing ultimate frisbee when I was supposed to be getting the concession stand ready. After that, my teacher/advisor thought it may be a good idea to remind me on game days, to get the concession stand ready. About an hour before the game, you put the frozen hot dogs on the rollers (a la gas station dogs). Then squeezed the tube of refrigerated chili blob into the warmer... yum, yum...it looked awful before it was cooked, sort of yellowy goo… it actually didn’t taste too bad when it was cooked, but I would not want to know what was actually in those plastic tubes. Then about a half hour before the game, you put the oil and corn in the popper and then covered it with the salt and “buttery” flavor after you turned the kettle and stirred it around before bagging it up. At just the right moment, when everyone was walking into the game and passing the Coke trailer/concession stand, all the smells of the cooked hot dogs, chili, and freshly popped buttery popcorn combined into one delicious game night treat, ready to be enjoyed with a nice, perfectly mixed soft drink… Unless, of course, you were late getting it ready, then there are no fresh yummy smells attracting people to the stand. And, when they do come and ask for a chili dog, you have to let them know it will be a few moments of rolling on the roller to get the ice off the dogs and the blob of yellowy chili would take a bit to actually look like chili, the popcorn is not seasoned yet, and the cokes are foamy.
When we are new believers, we are like new concession stand operators, we have to learn how to be believers that draw people in so they can see what is so great about being connected to God. We need to know what it looks like to love and serve God well. When we first believe, our lives are changed instantly, we are saved and freed from our sin, but there is a growth curve. We need to learn from God’s Word and the Holy Spirit how it is that God’s people live and act. We need to connect with God’s people who are more mature to watch them and learn what to do and say as the Holy Spirit leads them. We need to know what is not okay to do and what is best. We have to be taught and reminded of who we now are when we forget. Maybe you have met someone that you can tell they are connected to Jesus, because of what they serve up… they have knowledge of God’s Word, and they are wise in how they live it out, they love people, they serve humbly and well, they have a peace about them, they are doing what God has called them to do and they are enjoying God and His people. All this takes some intentionality and we all have work to do, even those who have some spiritual maturity. God does the work in us, but we have to show up. Paul loved a group of new believers at Philippi. He could see God was at work in them and they were showing up for the lessons by hanging out together regularly to learn and doing life together. He says, “There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears. Philippians 1:6 (MSG) So, let's keep maturing so we can serve up good smelling, good tasting, refreshing service that engages people and make them want to know more about Jesus and why our lives are different. Don’t be content with foamy cokes, frozen hot dogs, yellowy chili and unseasoned popcorn, God can combine all the ingredients that aren’t so appetizing and make them into a pleasant meal for someone who’s hungry. Our impatient, ungrateful, arrogant, ornery selves, get transformed into patient, thankful, humble, caring, loving people.
Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!
Thursday, September 17, 2020
Parents, Electrifying! Words From COVID 19 quarantine*
Photo credit: MoodleHUB.ca
Parents, Electrifying! In high school physics class at the old WSK one of my friends had to miss class on the day that the teacher pulled out the static electricity generator. My friend asked me to take notes for him. The teacher flipped on the shiny orb topped, small tower with a motor and a belt that was vertical between a roller and the belt drive. As the static built up the teacher started to lecture… which meant I missed almost every word because my ADHD brain's attention danced like the streams of electricity jumping and lurching to the small orb he had in his hand. He pulled the orb further away and showed how far the electricity could “jump.” He told us the further away you get the larger the amount of energy (amps x volts = watts) is in the stream of electricity. He had the girl with the longest un-hair-sprayed hair (this was 1980ish, remember Charlie's Angels) come put her hand on it and her hair stood straight up all around. He taught us about how being insulated from the floor with a plastic stool lowered the chance of electricity from flowing through us, because plastic was a less efficient conductor. He did several other experiments to show us some of electricity’s characteristic attributes, like it is drawn to a point. It’s why we have lightning rods standing on top of buildings that direct the electricity from a lightning bolt around the structures instead of through them. We learned that lightning is actually static electricity on a large scale generated by clouds rubbing together and that lightning bolts have anywhere from 100 million to a Billion volts. Lightning can also travel at almost 14,000 miles per hour and reach a temperature of 54,000 degrees. This temperature is enough to turn sand into glass… which explains why Jake Perry would go out into the storm and put in lightning rods into the sand at the beach in the movie Sweet Home Alabama. He was trying to make extremely rare but beautiful glass formations called Fulgurites, which he supposedly sold in his glass store. Our teacher told us that being struck by lightning is usually deadly or at least impairs you for life. As the bell rang and the teacher concluded the lecture, my friend walked through the door. I excitedly told him about all that had happened. As a hand talker, I gestured and pointed toward the static electricity generator that had been turned off for several minutes. However, a stored up bolt of static electricity jumped all the way across the room and zapped me on the pointing finger. I yelled and jumped, it smarted and scared me. The lightning bolt was really beautiful though. My friend's eyes got large and he said, “no way!” The teacher excitedly laughed and calculated the large number of amps x volts = watts it took to jump that many feet across the room. As far as I can tell there was no permanent damage… my friends and family may think otherwise.
Wednesday, September 16, 2020
Parents, Do You Have Your Jumping Shoes On?* Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, Do you have your jumping shoes on? I had the wonderful privilege of taking part in a celebration of life service for my Uncle. He was friendly, funny, and full of joy. He lived life well. He was a photographer, a theologian, a teacher, a preacher and he was very creative. Tom loved food, meals with him were like an act of worship; his prayers for the those who prepared the food were blessings unlike any other, and his thankful descriptive words about the food made your mouth water anticipating the delicious tastes you were about to experience; he always reminded us that our Heavenly Father had provided it for us. Tom loved my aunt well; she says, “he is sooo easy to love”. He loved his family and friends and was always glad to be with them. Tom was a lifelong student of God’s Word, but also a student of people. He was fascinated with people’s stories and could mine marvelous treasures from their stories, by leaning in to listen and then asking just the right questions then leaning in even closer for the responses. He would then collect the newfound priceless gems and present them back to the person in such a way that we all felt valued and valuable. A graduate of Dallas Theological Seminary, Tom took the doctrinal views of eschatology, or “the end times” espoused by this prestigious school very seriously. He once asked us, “have you seen my Rapture Jump”? And we said, “What’s a Rapture Jump?” and He said, “it's the jump that I’m going to do when I hear that Trumpet Sound.” Then he said, “I’m going to be just that much ahead of you on my way to heaven to see Jesus and get my new body.” … and then he leapt into the air and clicked his heels twice and landed softly on the ground... kind of like Mr. Bojangles. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen Tom do… normally he would slowly and purposefully perambulate wherever he was going and sit down, just like most people who are more than 60 years old. Tom would do said “rapture jump” well into his 70’s. Because of some complications after his recent cancer treatments, Tom didn’t get to do his rapture jump, but he did get to see Jesus and now he’s healed and whole. He lived his life in anticipation of seeing Jesus when his earthly life ended, so he lived well, loved well and brought Jesus and joy to those around him.
Friday, September 11, 2020
Parents, A Light In The Darkness: *Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, a Light in the darkness. As a middle schooler, I was all over my neighborhood. Each day was a new adventure. Some were sports adventures: pick up basketball, football, stickball, some were finding new trails through the woods, sometimes riding a bicycle to a friend’s house, sometimes fishing... One adventure to the neighborhood cave was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. This cave was near the old Civil War lead mine. One entrance was at the top of a bluff looking out over the river, but there was also a river level entrance to this cave at the bottom of the bluff. How cool is that! So, my friend and I actually thought far enough ahead to take a string with us, tie it to a tree and climb down into the cave, so we would know our way back out, if we got lost.. It was thrilling to climb through the cave to the opening at the river. We skipped some rocks, explored the large room, and began the accent back up through the cave. My friend shined his flashlight up the cave wall where we could see another opening at the top and said, “I wonder if there is another room on the other side of this wall.” So, of course we shinnied to the top of the wall and shined our lights down into the blackness. He said, “you go first.” So, down I went. He was right behind me. The room height started with enough room to walk bent over, then duck walk, then hands and knees, then belly crawl, then your back touched the top with your belly was pressed against the bottom. We hoped that it opened back up into another larger room, but all I could see in front of me was narrowing darkness and it felt like the weight of the earth was crushing me into the floor and it was hard to breath. My flashlight began getting dimmer (and, oh yeah, we forgot a backup flashlight.) At that moment, terror filled my whole being. I started to panic. My mind went to the stories about some boys who had been stuck in another cave in the neighborhood for 8 hours while cave rescue teams worked to extract them. My friend was right behind me, but I could not turn around to tell him of my sudden spelunking claustrophobia. Charged by fear, I began backing up quickly. He said, “stop, stop, what’s wrong.” I lost the capacity for words and just about kicked him all the way back to the wall to climb back out. I couldn’t get back out of the cave to daylight and fresh air fast enough. I’d like to say, I never went caving again, but I was always up for a new adventure... I just was a little more cautious in exploring new places.
Parents, What Are We Bragging About?* Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, What are we bragging about? I was in the middle school neighborhood bicycle gang. I use the term gang loosely, maybe more like a gaggle i.e. “a disorderly or noisy group of people”, rather than “a flock of geese”… although we may or may not have sounded like a honking flock of them after the beanie weenie lunch in the school cafeteria, as we rode our bikes through the Lakemoore Hills ‘hood. We were more noisy than disorderly. Anyway, back to my story... in the glory days of daredevil entertainer, Evel Knievel, almost every kid in our neighborhood built a makeshift ramp out of the wood they found in the garage and practiced going up and over it on their “motorcycle”/actually a bike. Mine was a few 2X4’s leaned on a fat log of wood. It was more like a bump than a ramp, but that’s where my imagination took over… I was flying hundreds of feet over a fleet of buses. As we rode home the bus one day, (We rode with the highschoolers. The bus was otherwise known as the feel free to bully a middle schooler zone - it was like the place where no one had jurisdiction: no teachers, no police, no parents, and the driver was just trying to dodge the crazy kids driving themselves home. So, it was like the Wild West, where only the strong survive. But once again I digress). On the bus, one of our gaggle kids was bragging about the 5 foot bike ramp, he had built at the end of his street. We all knew his street… he was at the end of a cul de sac at the bottom of a giant hill, a perfect place to build up speed to launch us into the air. So, guess where we all rode our bikes after getting off the bus? Mom said, “Don’t you have homework?” Homework schmomework, I thought, I’m going to be the next Evel Knievel, besides I was in an ‘open classroom,’ and the teacher didn’t even know my name. So, I told my mom I would be back in time to do it. We pedaled up and down the hills on our bikes to finally reach the epic ramp. As I arrived, the guys all stood around it with wide anxious eyes and braggadocious words. But when it came down to who would go first, we all balked… until finally one of us said, “I’ll go first.” That kid went and pedaled about halfway up the hill, came back and hit the ramp and landed safely. “Cool,” we said. A few other kids went. By the way, this was back when helmets were not even available, so protection of our soft-topped middle school skulls were even further compromised by our hardheaded competitive spirits. Then it was my turn. I pedaled back up the hill further than the other kids (go big or go home right?”)... I turned around and gained speed for the ramp. The ramp building engineer kid had thoughtfully placed the ramp at the end of the pavement so that the landing was on soft grass. So, I thought if I crash, I’ll at least land on the grass. As I became airborne, the extra speed launched me further than I anticipated, and I landed harder on the grass too. What the ramp engineer kid had not considered was the stopping space needed to decelerate the rider and bike before crashing into the bushes IF the rider gets a little extra speed for the jump… the other kids’ half-way-up-the-street prelaunch ride had given them enough room to easily stop, before hitting said bushes. Thankfully, the bushes acted as sort of a safety net to stop me from continuing down the hill, off the cliff, and into the river. When I emerged from the bushes, ``wow's'' and “are you okays” came from the gaggle. I just knew I had won gaggle bragging rights with that attempt. It smarted a little, but not enough for me to show it. However, not to be out done, another kid, Frank, went further up the hill and he was on a 10 speed!… The rest of us were on Spyder bike knockoffs. We couldn’t believe he would try it on a 10 speed. He landed it and stopped with only hand brakes. He earned the coveted “Evel Kneivel of the Day” award hands down. He later admitted his bravery came from trying to earn the eye and admiration of Laurie, the girl who lived on the same cul de sac. As the Sun went down, making shadow art on the street, as it shown through the deciduous and pine canopy, we all rode back home trying to figure out how to go just a little bit faster and further without crashing into the bushes the next day. Wisely, the ramp engineer’s parents disassembled the gaggle launcher, much to our chagrin. But it wasn’t long until we were off to the next adventure… playing full on tackle football with no pads or helmets so we could brag about our athletic skills… how did we survive? What is it they say about God protecting children and fools?
Why is it that we like “bragging rights"? It’s not just noisy middle schoolers. Some of us somehow feel “less than” everyone else and feel compelled to brag about whatever it is we think we are good at… it only gets us in a predicament where we are headed for trouble. At a time when God was tired of His people’s perceived “right to brag” about how smart they were, what they could do, and how successful they were, He sent His messenger, known as the “Weeping Prophet” to warn them (and us) not to brag about anything but God and His great Love, Rightness and Justness. In the helpful and creatively paraphrased words of Eugene Peterson, Jeremiah communicates God’s warning like this, “GOD's Message: ‘Don't let the wise brag of their wisdom. Don't let heroes brag of their exploits. Don't let the rich brag of their riches. If you brag, brag of this and this only: That you understand and know me. I'm GOD, and I act in loyal love. I do what's right and set things right and fair, and delight in those who do the same things. These are my trademarks.’ GOD's Decree.” Jeremiah 9:23-24 (MSG) So, as we connect our lives with our loving, right, and fair God we will not only connect with Him and brag about Him, but we will also be loving, right, and fair with other people. This word for “right” means acting right and honest according to God’s Word, not having to be perceived as right/correct all the time which can lead us to bragging about being wise and right. We gotta remember who we are and Who we belong to and how it is like us to act like Him. And if we are going to brag about something, let us brag about the great, unending, unconditional, love of our God. When a shouting match ensues, instead of bragging about how right our side is, we need to love those who are shouting against us and brag about the way God loves us all.
Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!
Monday, September 7, 2020
Parents, A Case of Mistaken Identity:* Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, a case of mistaken identity. As an awkward young man (who is now an awkward adult) I was unsure of myself and had no idea how to talk to humans much less those of the opposite sex and it was painfully obvious when I opened my mouth. This fact did not however, keep me from trying to communicate with the young ladies. One girl, pretty and popular, was in almost all my classes. Every time I tried to talk with her my words never came out right and when they did, they seemed so childish and silly. She would give me this contemptuous grin as if to make an “L” on her forehead with “her finger and her thumb” (meaning “you are a Loser”). I would just walk away embarrassed. So, imagine my excited confusion when she called and asked me to go to the annual Sadie Hawkins dance. I had no idea how to act or what to do. I wasn’t even sure what the dance, who’s name was made famous by the Lil’ Abner comic strip set in the fictional Kentucky mountain town of Dogpatch, actually was. In my still unformed adolescent brain, I thought, “wow, I must be popular too.” When I got to classes the next day, I was excited to talk with said girl about this “turnabout dance.” As I was looking for this girl, another friend of mine, a beautiful girl with a wonderful and caring heart walked up to me excitedly. She was grinning from ear to ear with a genuine, not contemptuous smile, for some reason. It just so happened that she had the same first name as the girl I was looking for… unless? Wait?! Yes, you got it… It was this friend, not the “L” on the forehead girl who had called me the night before… she had only said her first name on the phone. I felt so silly! We went to the dance and had a great time. She was much kinder and tenderhearted toward my (and everyone else’s) teenage awkwardness, than most other teens. My mind flashed back to an early memory from preschool: I had asked a classmate, if they would “be my friend.” This person said “no.” Another tenderhearted kindergartener heard this... and apparently, even as a preschooler, sensed my hurt and she quickly said, “I’ll be your friend!” I am a slow learner and I still continue to learn that we are all desperate for genuine friends who are tender toward weakness and that I need to be that kind of friend too. This friend had modeled how to be a better person that awkward Sadie Hawkin’s incident, but I didn’t realize it until years later. She showed grace and it gave her an unusual amount of teenage confidence because she was more interested in others than herself.
Saturday, September 5, 2020
Parents, Don't Wait for the Painful Wakeup Call:* Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, what busts your gluteus maximus? In college, my cheer squad used to come back to campus a few weeks early to practice for cheer camp. Those Summers, we practiced mornings and afternoons for “two-a-days.” It was really hot in Greenville, SC, so between practices we tried to find different ways to cool down near water: a pool, lake, river or stream. I have many fond memories of those refreshing adventures with my friends. One of the aquatic destinations was to drive about 2 hours into the mountains to a sliding rock called “bust your butt falls.” We calculated that we could leave right after morning practice, grab something to eat and make it to the falls, stay for about an hour, drive 2 hours back and make it back for the afternoon practice. Sometimes we would even stop along the way to take a quick jump from the bridge at lake Keowee Toxaway (I know, not the smartest thing to do, but at that age we think we are 10 feet tall and made of steel). One year, we headed up to the falls, it was the perfect day. Coach had reminded us why we were there, warned us not to be late for practice and not to get injured. We assured him of both. We had a great time on the way up, windows down, lots of laughter and singing loudly with Boston, Phil Collins, Journey, and whatever other bands were on the cassettes tapes in the car. At the falls, you sit down in the ice cold water and enjoy a long smooth sliding rock for several feet and you are looking down at the refreshing pool of water, into which you are about to splash. After you have gained some momentum from the steepness of the rocks and the push of the water, right in the middle of the sliding rock at the bottom is a large rock that juts straight up. It unexpectedly launches you into the air and into the pool. It's a pretty big jolt when you hit this rock, hence the name “bust your butt falls.” You definitely want to hit it with your rump. One time down the falls, I got off balance a little and was leaning back more than usual, on impact, I was in great pain. I had hit the rock and broken my tailbone! If you have ever done this you know that it hurts when you do it, but it also hurts for several weeks as it heals. There is obviously no cast that will work, you can sometimes sit on a doughnut shaped pillow to help relieve the pain of sitting in a chair. So, after our 5 hour adventure, and an uncomfortable drive back, we all piled out of the car, just in time for cheer practice. Practice was a painful prospect for me, but also provided much amusement for the rest of the cheer squad as I grimaced with every stunt and backhandspring. It seems I had to have my butt busted to remind me that we had all returned to campus early that summer to practice to become better cheerleaders to represent the University well. I had gotten distracted by the “extracurricular” adventures that were great fun but weren’t as important as our purpose of representing our university, our squad, and our coach well.
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
Parents, What's Your Power Source? Words From COVID 19 quarantine
Parents, What's your power source? Sitting in the wet grass at my childhood home repairing a weed trimmer extension cord in the light rain, listening to some Michael W. Smith on my Walkman knockoff cassette player, I had forgotten to unplug it first… the cord that is. I had just returned home from the “far country” of Atlanta after 7 years of rebellion that had started in college, however I had just had a powerful encounter with God who reminded me I was His child, but that I was acting like a child of the Devil. I had been reading His Word in my 365 Day Bible that my mother had given me before college. I tried to read it everyday in spite of whatever prideful or outright rebellious behavior I had engaged in that day. And then it hit me... “You have to get out of here…” “You need to go back home…” “You have to return to God and away from the sins that so easily entangle you.” So, I resigned from my position as Spirit Coordinator at Georgia Tech and returned home. I had the privilege of working with some really wonderful and brilliant students at GT, but I realized I was not mature enough to lead them. Though I went to church every other week or so at First Baptist Atlanta or All Saints Episcopal it was just a box to check off in my life to show that I was a “good person,” rather than a real connection with God. (Both churches happened to be within walking distance of my apartment that overlooked the Fox Theater.) So, sitting in the grass of my parent’s home repairing the electrical cord that I had just cut open with the weed trimmer, I got a pretty good ZAP as I touched both exposed wires while trying to twist them together and put some electrical tape on them. It quickly reminded me I had to disconnect the power source, because power still flowed through it when I completed the connection with my fingers. Fortunately my hand did not freeze to the cord, rendering me unable to let go. So, I unplugged the cord, repaired it, continued listening and singing with the Worship music and cleaned up the yard. I returned to my home church where they welcomed me back and my parents were so gracious to let me boomerang back home, like a bad penny, without judgement but with lots of love and prayer. Though I had plugged my headphones in to God with worship music and His Word, I had not fully disconnected from the influences that I had become entangled with in my years of rebellion. Thankfully, each time I completed the connection with the sinful nature, it became a very painful reminder that I no longer belong to that connection. Fortunately, God allowed my hand to let go of my demons… though some released more reluctantly than others. Even now, temptations can threaten my connection with God and I am pleased when He gently and sometimes not so gently reminds me that I belong to Him, that His hand is frozen to me and He will never let go…