The house was profoundly quieter now. The funeral service was a sweet combination of faith-filled worship and fitting tribute. The dozens of family members, cousin-strangers, and delightfully helpful friends and neighbors have retreated back to dock with “normal.” All that remained this evening were my dad, my sister and me.
After thank-you notes, food rearrangement, guest dish collecting and sorting, and a pause for supper, my dad decided to start the process of going through stuff. Her stuff. While my sister began looking through and sorting out her desk, he emptied her purse. Inside was what I suppose is a typical example of a 71-year-old woman’s typical daily haul. A wallet with all the ID cards, insurance and AAA whatevers, and credit cards. A wad of keys. Pills – lots of pills. Fingernail and lip stuff. A comb.
And a receipt.
“Hey,” Daddy said, looking over the receipt. “You know what? I’ll bet she bought me a Valentine card.”
That’s sure what it looked like. A loose receipt in Mama’s purse revealed the purchase of a greeting card sometime early last week or the week before. But where was it hiding?
We started looking everywhere. The desk. Files. Closets. I asked about the car. Alas, no card.
“I sure wish I could find that card,” Daddy kept saying.
Finally, my sister found it in what should have been an obvious place, just above the workspace on her desk. And sure enough, he was right. She had bought him a card that was just waiting for her signature. And here is what it says: [click to continue…]
Laura Kate Wiley is finding her voice.
At 17 months, she’s off to a good start.
With safe surroundings and a fearless heart,
A free spirit and a supportive family,
She plays and rests and dreams and wants –
Sincerely believing that what she has to say actually matters.
She will need these things again and again,
As her world evolves and her voice is threatened.
Nobody can sing the songs meant for her alone.
Again and again, she will have to find her heart with clarity,
And express her mind with grace and courage.
So will you.
Find your voice.
“You have a role in all this,” Dave told me.
“This” is the church he now serves as pastor, the people he loves daily and weekly, the legacy of faith he is building in this eastern New Mexico town.
Dave went on (this is my paraphrase): “You were there at a time in my life when I thought ministry was over, that I had nothing left to offer, and that nobody wanted me. You helped me see the possibilities of how God could continue to use me. So every time the Lord does something good here, you have a fraction of the action.”
I was humbled and blessed by his insight. But I also know I am not alone. [click to continue…]
“I promise.” Has a certain charm, doesn’t it? Power, too! Were there no promises, business or trade in the world would not exist. Without promises, you would never experience friendship. There would be no families, no churches, no faith if there were no promises. Think of what your life would be like without the promises that have been made to you.
“And I believe you.” Imagine what that does to the one making the promise. The encouragement to faithfulness! The linking of two hearts! The formation of a solid friendship! The birth of a profitable business relationship! In Bible terms, we call it, “faith.” In the real world, we can’t live without it.
Much of our lives are spent making, breaking, and keeping promises. When we’re not doing that, we’re probably in the process of believing or doubting the promises others have made to us. Think about it: [click to continue…]
OK, so there’s this guy who’s asking his brother-in-law for a major favor. This isn’t like lending a wheelbarrow or babysitting the kids for a weekend. This order’s pretty tall. As in,
Could you leave your family?
Oh, and your country, too?
And help me babysit my family of three million?
Hey, what’s a family for?
And get this – all indications are that that the brother-in-law did it.
Curious yet? I sure would be, for several reasons: [click to continue…]
A famous writer once described a beach scene where two children, a boy and a girl, were building an elaborate sand castle near the water’s edge. It had gates and towers and moats and internal passages. Just when they nearly finished the project, a huge wave tumbled in and knocked the whole thing down. Instead of bursting into tears because of losing their hard work, the girl and boy ran up the shore from the water, laughing and holding hands, and started work on another castle.
It seems so instinctive to children. Take the most wonder-filled moments the day has to offer – a castle made of sand, or a dandelion just waiting to be carried by the wind – and look for someone to share it with in love. But time and age have a way of turning our hearts if we let them. Castle-building becomes the higher priority, and dandelions become annoying weeds.
Here is the author’s takeaway:
All the things in our lives, all the complicated structures we spend so much time and energy creating, are built on sand… Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody’s hand to hold will be able to laugh.
Like anybody else who’s been around a while, I have my share of regrets. One of them has been the tendency to walk away from relationships when it was time to “move up the beach and build the next castle.” Fortunately, I’ve been blessed to have some people in my life who wouldn’t take “Good-bye” as the last word, and that’s a good thing. Had it been left up to me, that relationship would have faded away. I’m working on changing that.
In the previous post, I mentioned that even in an isolated prison, the Apostle Paul found a way to stay close to the people he loved. In particular, he was a master at using words. All throughout his life and ministry, this man knew just what to say or write to draw people to him, and to Christ.
Maybe we can learn some things from Paul’s example. Once you know who’s in your heart (or who you’d like to have there), here are some ways to keep them close: [click to continue…]
It was a typical piece of junk mail – the next great offer, the last of the big bargains, real savings on my long distance, or something like that. Just before it sailed off into File-13 history, something at the bottom of the page caught my eye. It said: “Four things that you can never get back… the spoken word… your past life… wasted time… and neglected opportunity.”
Never has something so close to oblivion been so profound. So much of our lives are like the ebb and flow of the tides. So much comes and goes, only to come back again. But there are those other parts of our lives that are like a shooting star – they don’t come back. Other things may come that look similar, but that’s only a matter of appearance. Fact is, there are four things you can never get back. [click to continue…]
One of our inside family jokes has to do with a certain child of ours who had the hardest time simply apologizing or admitting she was wrong.
(This same child, as a two-year-old, used to wear a t-shirt with the picture of a well-known TV character who had a similar problem. The most he could ever do was say, in his coolness, “I was wr-r-r-r-r.” I wonder if the t-shirt rubbed off somehow.)
Anyway, the conversations would go something like this:
“You need to tell her/him you’re sorry.”
“But I didn’t mean to.”
“It doesn’t matter – you did it. Say you’re sorry.”
“But I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did it.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“SAY IT!”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!”
Where Could She POSSIBLY Learn Something Like That?
To this day, we haven’t really understood what a simple apology symbolized to this child, but she wasn’t buyin’. But let’s face it. We all come by our reluctance to admit fault pretty honestly. [click to continue…]
It was, without a doubt, one of the lowest periods in my life. I was broke and jobless, living in the wake of my own failures. My whole world had turned upside down. I was torn between two directions – to stay in that part of the world that I had always considered home, or to venture out to a place I had only seen on trips to my in-laws’ house.
My wife wanted to be near her parents during that season. I wanted to live in Anywhere Else, USA. “If the world was flat,” I said, “Lubbock would be on the edge of it!”
But my world was flat. [click to continue…]
Interested in getting a head start on your firewood for next winter? I once heard of a unique way to drop a tree. It seems some villagers in the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific have learned how to conquer the really big ones. If a tree is too large to be felled with an ax, the natives cut it down by yelling at it. (I’m not making this up. I read it in a book, so it must be true.) Just at dawn these woodsmen with special powers sneak up on a tree and suddenly scream at it at the top of their lungs. They do this every day for 30 days, and the tree dies and falls over. The theory is that yelling kills the spirit of the tree. According to the villagers, it always works.
Felling by yelling. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Crazy enough to be true.
I’ll have to admit, though, I’ve never seen it happen. I’ve never yelled at a tree (and I wouldn’t tell you if I had). Not for thirty days. Not for one day. Furthermore, I’ve never seen anyone else yell at a tree. So I can’t say by experience that hollering works on trees.
But it does work on kids. I have seen that happen.
Works on spouses, too.
Some people yell at their cars or their washing machine, and it doesn’t seem to do much good. But I’ve seen it drop a few pastors. And I’ve seen it kill the spirit of a friend or two as well. [click to continue…]
