Thursday, February 23, 2006

Friendships—Handshakes and Hugs

The north winds blew across the Texas Panhandle swept into Abilene and pierced wool coats as if they were T-shirts. This past week, I spent a few days on Abilene Christian University’s campus. The chilly weather no way mirrored the warmth of friends reuniting after months or years of not seeing each other.

On campus, a booth-filled gymnasium was transformed into bookstore and information outlet for many ministries. A women’s group had a stall and sold homemade pies. The immediate area was furnished with plenty of tables and chairs and became a central meeting place for friends. Sitting alone a few times, I witnessed longtime friends reuniting. Warm bear hugs and handshakes between men, and among the women, squeals and 90-degree-Farenheit smiles—they became the room’s thermostat.

In our culture gone mad with noise and a variety of distractions, quiet moments with friends bring refreshment. My days with dear friends reminded me of Jesus and his companions who experienced this camaraderie. The frenetic days of Jesus’ ministry were balanced by withdrawing with his friends to deserted places.

Jesus, the Son of God, is the answer to noise pollution of my life. Because of crowds and their almost constant neediness, Jesus often traveled to uninhabited areas (1:45). No doubt, Jesus loved the crowds, but to garner strength, he spent time in prayer or with an intimate group of friends. In his story, I see the restorative power of such times.

While here on earth, Jesus had a flesh and blood body and his needs reflect needs of humanity. His physical body required rest, and his mind and heart required respite. God’s love and message are capable of reaching through the clatter of daily routine. But I find it difficult to distinguish the call of God when the blast of a television is in the background. In the last few years I felt a need to shut out noise that I can control. Of late, I made a conscious effort to weed noise from my environment. I used to turn on a morning newscast, but that no longer happens. I used to listen to talk radio every few days. I’m weaned from the airways.

Me, myself, and I are not that great of a companion, but in the silence, in the quiet, my friend Jesus is given a better opportunity to abide with me. He is Bread, Sanctuary, Life and Light. He fills in the dark gaps in my life.

The quiet and ordered environment I desire has not been perfected, and I doubt it will be while dwelling on earth. Of course, not all life-intrusions come by way of noise. Some don’t have decibel ratings, but they keep us from an intentional time with God and friends. Unsolicited junk mail is one that comes to mind. My on-going goals are to free myself from such life-trappings, to have more time for retreats with family and friends.

The word “companion” is formed from two Latin words: com/with and panis/ bread. Those we break bread with are companions. I love the times when friends arrange to meet in someone’s home. Pat, Doris, Betty, Mary Jo, Sherri, and Kay, bring their offerings of fruit salad, baked chicken, and bread. Conversations percolate through meal time, through breaking bread.

Of course, the best friend is Jesus who is a constant attendant. He assists at 2:00 A.M. or noonday. This Prince of Peace owns time, he is the time keeper. Always near, he is ready with a quiet meal for a friend. He is the meal, the one who always brings the bread—Jesus, the Christ.

Friday, February 17, 2006

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Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle.

Kindness may seem a vague word, one covering a variety of niceties. But thoughtfulness is not hazy or unclear. The week of February 14th is designated as Kindness Week by Congress. This week is celebrated with compassionate acts and emphasizes practicing consideration year round.

In 1993, Dr. Chuck Wall, heard a news commentator describe a horrible event as “just another senseless act of violence.” That’s when he presented his college class with a challenge. He encouraged them to go out and commit a “random act of senseless kindness and write about it.”

But Dr. Wall’s motivational story started earlier than the college assignment. In junior high and high school, his grades weren’t that good. He was treated as if he didn’t have learning capacity. Finally diagnosed with severe onset retinitis pigmentosa (RP), Wall said, “I was so relieved.” He went home and told his parents, “The only thing wrong with me is I’m going blind!”

He enrolled in college, and the first semester would have failed except for one young man’s help. With the growing obstacles of RP, he maintained a C average and received his degree. He went to graduate school, completing three Masters with a 3.95 grade point. Finally, he received his Ph. D. with a 4.0, all because kind people helped him.

Media reports often focus on upsetting news—murder, bankruptcy, theft, gang violence, rampant street drugs. Because of technology, a tragedy can happen in Budapest, Hungary or Bogotá, Colombia and we hear about it immediately.

Most who receive such news don’t have personal resources or connections to alleviate massive suffering. But many hands, in imitation of God’s grace, compassion, and bountiful love (Jonah 4: 2), can lessen misery a world away. Closer-at-home generosities such as casseroles for the sick and letting a driver “go first” brighten neighborhoods.

I recall a simple act of charity that cheered me. While shopping, I reached for a bottle of salad dressing, a specific brand we like. Beside the bottle someone had propped a coupon—not outdated—for the exact flavor I was about to buy. Because of thoughtfulness for another, an earlier shopper saved me 50 cents. I wrote my first letter to an editor about that simple gift.

Though blind, Dr. Chuck Wall had a vision for a struggling world, where benevolence could make a difference. Charles Kuralt said, “The everyday kindness of the back roads more than makes up for the acts of greed in the headlines.” This week, this year, celebrate big heartedness.

Pour the milk of human kindness into the world’s tin cup.

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Saturday, February 11, 2006

Bow the Knee

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Earl Williams had quadruple bypass surgery and his first hospital stay. At the hospital, he assumed a different role. Instead of parking in the ministers’ reserved area and visiting the sick, he lay in an airy hospital gown receiving visitors. His sweet wife Barbara recalled the many kindnesses from staff, family and friends.

Folks rallied to “bless,” serve, Earl and Barbara. The word “bless” means to kneel or to bow the knee. In Genesis the 12th chapter, God made promises to Abram, and God used the word “bless” in at least two distinct ways.

“I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you: I will make your name great and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”

The Hebrew archives at www.studylight..org explains, “The idea of blessing may come from several factors including that of bending the knees to give or to receive.” Both elements of giving and receiving are present in Genesis 12. First, God bowed his knees and served Abram’s clan, and eventually through his lineage gifted the entire earth with the Savior. Abram believed God’s promises, appreciated his provisions, and in turn bowed his knees in service to family and foreigners.

Abram bowing his knee to serve God and contemporaries is easily imagined. However, the concept of God on his knees meeting my very real needs is more difficult to visualize. From the earliest days, God served, expressed his all-out love. The Creator seeded the earth and set up an atmosphere to support it. For thousands of years, God nurtured, but humans bit the hand that fed them. From the beginning, God planned to complete the demonstration of his love.

God’s kneeling-to-give and his extravagant measures to woe us to him, culminated in Jesus. Jesus said, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14: 9). On the evening before his crucifixion, Jesus, God in the flesh, showed his disciples the “full extent of his love” (13:1).

Jesus and his disciples settled to dine, but street grime journeyed to the table on their feet. Instead of waiting for a servant, Jesus got up, took off his outer garment and wrapped a towel around his waist.

After pouring water into a basin, Jesus knelt and one at a time lifted 24 dirty feet. Wash and dry. Wash and dry. John. Andrew. James. Bartholomew. Judas. The cleansing wasn’t over in a moment. Jesus moved from man to man, foot to foot. He physically touched each disciple.

What thoughts did Jesus have as he washed each foot? Was he also saying goodbyes, for the men’s sake? Would they recall the moments when God held their feet and washed the dirt of earth away?

Would they remember him kneeling, lower than them? Would they remember looking down into his eyes? He didn’t look like a king. He didn’t look like Lord of heaven, Lord of earth. He looked like a servant.

When Jesus reached for Peter’s foot, Peter said, “You shall never wash my feet.”
Jesus said, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me . . . later you will understand.”

God’s lavish love is not limited by protocol. God bowed his knee to Abram, so Abram could “be a blessing.” Today, God still bows his knees in service. With prolific love, he kneels and heals. He kneels to wipe sins away.

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Sunday, February 05, 2006

Inspire

The word "inspire" means to breathe or blow (into) to draw or inhale into the lungs; to instruct by divine influence, to instruct or affect with a superior influence, to animate a person.

The etymology of the word is Latin inspirdre: in--in, into; spirdre--to breathe

A writer quoted her pastor, and his saying probed my motives for projects: "If you manufacture your own platform, you will have to manufacture your own anointing."

Benjamin Franklin also inspired me this past week: Printer, statesman,inventor Ben contributed to society. A few of his inventions were "[s]wim fins, bifocals, a glass armonica, watertight bulkheads for ships, the lightning rod, an odometer, and the wood stove (called the Franklin stove)."

http://bensguide.gpo.gov/benfranklin/inventor.html


He refused to apply for patents on any of his inventions because he wanted everyone to benefit from those, not just a few.

His example inspired me to quit charging my husband for cooking supper.

This past week, who or what came like a breath of fresh air into your life and roused up courage, awakened a dream, imbued strength, or lifted consciousness to a higher ledge? Who last inspired you?

Friday, February 03, 2006

Spear Forgivings

In 1956, missionaries Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully made contact with an isolated Waodani tribe in Ecuador. The tribe lived by a code of revenge, and Waodani children grew up learning "they would spear and live or be speared and die." Out of every 10 adult deaths in the Waodanis, six are believed to have died from spearings.

This past week my family watched the documentary Beyond the Gates of Splendor, released in October 2005, a story of sacrifice, death, forgiveness and redemption. In 1956, the five men had made successful contact with the Waodani, and had taken guns along, but decided if they were confronted they would not use them because "we are ready to go to heaven and they are not."

After a few days, of talking with three of the Waodani, the missionaries failed to make regular radio contact with their base. News quickly reached the states about the missing men, and across the United States farmers, clerks, and dignitaries awaited word from the jungles of Ecuador. A search party was sent into the remote area.

Within a few days newscasts reported the fate of the five men. Their speared bodies were found in and near a river. The yellow plane, the modern missionary mule, had been hacked by machetes. A short time later and by God's grace, the families of the slain men made contact with the Waodani tribe. This tragedy of such magnitude resulted in stories of mercy and salvation. Some of the surviving families even lived among the Waodani for years.

The award winning documentary Beyond the Gates of Splendor is on DVD, available for rental or purchase. Actual footage in one scene details the baptism of one of the slain's daughters. When a teenager she wanted to be baptized, and she told about the water-grave. "I was in the same water where Dad's body had been thrown. And on either side of me were the two men who in their youth had killed Dad. All I knew was I really loved those guys."

Another movie chronicling the events, End of the Spear, rated PG-13, is appearing in selected theaters. In this movie, the story of the 1956 slayings is told from the Waodani's perspective. Steve Saint, son of slain missionary Nate Saint, has lived with the tribe and he wanted the story told from their viewpoint, too. At first the Waodani wouldn't give their permission for the filming of a movie, and then Steve Saint told them about the Columbine High School killings. The tribesmen were astonished that in our advanced culture people are also killing innocent people for no reason. The Waodani then said yes to a movie about the spearings, hoping their story would help others.

Although Jesus is not mentioned in the movie, it is evident that his love prompted the forgiveness and love fostered between the families of the slain and the Waodani. Movie viewer Doug Kenny said: "Like grass growing through concrete, there is no stopping what Christ's love can do. The movie is a gift for today."

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Friday, January 27, 2006

Journey to Belief

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Converse with 20 different Christians and they will tell you 20 different ways God piqued their interest in him and encouraged their belief in Christ. One such story comes from the Civil War General Lew Wallace who authored the book Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ.

Wallace’s mother told him about the Wise Men searching for the King of the Jews. That story enthralled him through his adult years, and Wallace eventually wrote “The First Christmas,” a fictional account of the Wise Men. He didn’t submit it for publication, but put it away. When an adult, Wallace went to church off and on, but confessed his “attitude with respect to religion had been one of absolute indifference.”

He read sermons from some of the “best preachers" of his day—Bossuet, Chalmers, Robert Hall, and Henry Ward Beecher—but only for the "charm of their rhetoric.” In 1876, a “chance” meeting with atheist Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, breached his indifference. On a train together, Ingersoll discounted believers in God, Christ and heaven with “argument, eloquence, wit, satire,” and “brilliant antitheses,” Wallace later wrote.

General Wallace disembarked alone. Instead of taking the streetcar, he chose to walk a long way to his destination, because of his “confusion of mind.” He had no answers to any of the Colonel’s opinions. Wallace, ashamed of his ignorance, remembered the manuscript he’d written about the Wise Men searching for the Christ Child.

He decided to finish the story, through the crucifixion. He reasoned that the writing would oblige him to study the Bible and everything relevant to the event. He thought he would then possess “opinions of real value.” The book Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ resulted. Wallace also journeyed to a belief in Jesus, “a conviction amounting to absolute belief in God and the Divinity of Christ.”

God addresses unbelief. “I am God and there is no other; I am God and there is none like me.” He continues, “My purpose will stand; and I will do all that I please. From the east I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill my purpose” (Isaiah 46:8-10). God knows how, when and where to stimulate interest in himself, even through an atheist’s opinions.

The story of the Jewish prince Judah Ben-Hur, and his own path to belief, became a stage play. An obstacle to the stage presentation was the chariot race, but eight trained horses pulled chariots and ran on treadmills in the play first performed on Broadway in 1899.

After 21 years of worldwide performances, an estimated 21 million people viewed the stage production. One historian said the play "brought millions to their feet to cheer and more millions to their knees to pray?"

Later, MGM produced the 1959 motion picture Ben-Hur, starring Charlton Heston, which won 11 of the 12 nominated Academy Awards. In 2003, an animated version, featuring the voice of Charlton Heston, released. This past week, I watched the DVD with my grandsons, ages 8 and 5.

During the movie, we talked of ancient Roman rule and Rome, Italy now. I explained the difference between lepers and leopards. They asked questions about Jerusalem culture, and questions about God. They showed empathy for the sick and oppressed. Those moments are treasures for this grandmother. And they had their beginnings in Civil War General Lew Wallace’s journey—a journey to The Christ.

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Saturday, January 21, 2006

Prayer Garden

A Place for Prayer

My grandsons, ages 8 and 5, are helping me build a prayer garden. Well, that’s what we’re calling it. Right now, the garden consists of one tree and some laboring grass.

The idea for a special place for prayer has been growing, seeded from several sources. A friend has a lovely landscaped area near her home that she calls her “prayer garden.” Also, the gospels tell about Jesus going often to an olive grove, a seemingly favorite outdoor chapel for him, apart from the noise and dust of Jerusalem. From Eden to Gethsemene, conversations with God have taken place in gardens.

I decided our family needed a prayer garden, too, but our yard is not the gardenish-type. It’s rustic to the bone. Plenty of trees dapple the lawn: pines, pin oaks, cedars, sweet gum, mulberry and mimosa. Another variety is a holly tree in its 50’s. Shaped like an open umbrella, the tree has a low-forked trunk, perfect for first-time tree scalers.

Dubbed the “climbing tree” by grandsons Jack and Adam, it will provide shady shelter in the middle of our quiet place. One day, I was telling my grandsons what we would put in the garden: a pea gravel floor, border rocks, a couple of molded plastic chairs and table, a citronella candle, and engraved scripture stones. Caught up in the planning phase, I forgot something very important.

Jack, grew very quiet. When I stopped reeling off the list of things we would “do” to create the garden, he simply asked, “Can we pray in it?”

Jack’s legitimate question focused on the main item for our prayer garden – prayer. Over the years, I’ve read countless articles about prayer, read e-mail prayers, kept a prayer journal and studied prayers in the Bible to discover the physical positions of the prayerful.

Those activities helped me learn about prayer and even tracked results, but they only enlightened “about” prayer. Too many times in life, I’ve been enamored with the prayer-helps instead of actually praying to God.

In the next few weeks, Jack, Adam and I will finish the prayer garden. Then the three of us will sit down in the shade of the holly tree, two seated in the green chairs. One of us will climb the holly tree to sit on a low branch. I’m counting on an eight or –five-year-old volunteer.

After we’re settled under our tree and in it, we’ll talk about the many times Jesus went with his disciples to the garden on the Mount of Olives, including the betrayal night. In the garden that dreadful night, the first word spoken to his disciples was “Pray . . .” (Luke 22:40).

The holly tree, antique rocks and mocking birds hymning will stage a wholesome place for little boys’ prayers. Add one listening Father and it’s the perfect combination—our prayer garden.

Monday, January 16, 2006

The Transfiguration-Would I Be Left Behind?

G. B. Shelburne emails out nuggets of wisdom; with his permission I share this with you.


On the last day of his life, Peter waited in his Roman cell for the footsteps of the soldier who would take him to execution. He was sustained by what he had seen on a mountaintop with Jesus 40 years before. In his last letter Peter recalls that day. "We did not preach to you fables we cleverly made up. We really saw Jesus' shining majesty as God spoke from heaven about him."

If seeing the transfiguration of Jesus helped Peter live faithfully, why did Jesus give only three disciples that opportunity? Did he care less for the nine and for their faith? I think rather the nine were not ready to receive. Some blessings require a certain maturity. Before his death Jesus told the disciples, "I have much more to tell you, but you cannot receive it now." I am like that. Some things that used to wow me are no longer important. And things I couldn't appreciate then mean everything to me now.

Jesus said something scary yet wonderful: "Whoever has will receive more, but whoever does not have will lose even what he has." The more we grow, the more we can grow. The less we grow, the less chance that we ever will. What does that say about the growth opportunities we think we don't have time for?

If I had been there, would Jesus have invited me or would I have been left behind?

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Copyright 2006 by G.B. Shelburne, III. May be freely reproduced or forwarded for non-commercial purposes. To subscribe, email
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Friday, January 13, 2006

Excess and Moderation

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Driving to my home one day, I followed a motorist. On a 60mph road, her speedometer maxed at 25 mph. If she neared 30mph, she slacked off the gas; she crept to her house and I crept behind her. Another road, another day, a driver whooshed by so fast—I didn’t even catch the color of the car.

I find the biblical place of moderation a good place to camp. Today’s column will tackle the hindering habit of excess. According to the Encarta Dictionary, excess or surplus is “an amount or quantity beyond what is considered normal or substantial.” Excess behavior or an attitude “goes beyond what is socially or morally acceptable, or beyond what is good for somebody’s health or well-being.”

Almost anything in life can be taken to the extreme. A variety of average experiences can become excess either in the plus or minus column. For instance eating—one can eat too little and too much. Binging and purging are both excessive behaviors and may result in severe health problems. Money can be hoarded or worshiped, squeezed or squandered.

Other extremes include those who abide by stringent self-made rules, while their counter citizens stick decals on shirts and cars saying, “Rules—made to be broken.” One may take a vow of silence, while another uploads 1,000 songs to an Apple iPod and tunes out the world. Teetotalers and alcoholics thirst on opposite ends of moderation.

The key to moderation is to follow God’s lead. Solomon wrote “The man who fears God avoids all extremes” (Ecclesiastes 7:18). Extremes hinder. He explained, “Do not be overrighteous, neither be overwise—why destroy yourself . . . Do not be overwicked, and do not be a fool—why die before your time?” (7:16, 17). Excesses can shatter the good life.

When Jesus, meaning Savior in Greek, came to earth, he came to rescue us—to rescue us from ourselves. He came to show us moderation and good extremes, and he patterned both.

A prime example of moderation is Jesus’ associations. He didn’t exclusively cohort with the rich and famous, nor did he only align himself with victims of poverty. He befriended everyone no matter their life positions.

Jesus cautioned against judging another person’s choices to the left or right of moderation. John the Baptizer led an austere life, shaped by prayer and fasting. On the days he lived in the wilderness, he ate locusts and honey. (My husband thinks he caught a rabbit now and then.)

Jesus said because John fasted and didn’t drink alcohol, people said, “He has a demon” or he was crazy (Matthew 11:18). The Son of Man, Jesus, fasted and feasted, and they said about him, “Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and ‘sinners’” (11:19).

Jesus finished up his teachings on that day with these words, “But wisdom is proved right by her actions.” Or as Eugene Peterson says in the contemporary language The Message, “Opinion polls don’t count for much, do they?” God is a better judge of life behaviors.

The scales of life found Jesus balanced. He practiced good extremism, and was excessive and lavish in his love for God and fellowmen. To follow Jesus, live a moderate life, and don’t set limits on loving God and his children. Go all out.

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Tuesday, January 10, 2006

My theme scripture

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Hopes and Dreams for 2006

In Mary Engelbreit’s Home Companion, December 2005, an article about the New Year is titled “Hopes and Dreams.” Hopes and dreams aptly describe some resolutions I’ve made at year end. By mid-year, they were more dreams than reality.

A resolution is a “firm decision to do something.” At the beginning of a new year, I often pledge to make “me” improvements. Like highway zero-mile-markers, like baptism into Christ, a new year beckons with opportunities to travel a new path or an adjusted one.

I’ve found these three helps to carry out New Year resolutions: a memorized theme scripture, breath prayers and God’s involvement. At the end of December, I meditate on the year ahead. God is invited to this soul search as I look at the known appointments for the next 12 months. Also, just as King David wanted to build a better place for God to dwell, so do I. My life, his temple, often needs renovation, home improvements.

One year, God and I worked on my communication skills, and Paul’s wisdom words became my unifying scripture. “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders. Let your conversations always be full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.” I wrote the scripture and the year on many index cards and placed them where I saw them every day.

That year, besides the scripture, I memorized breath prayers, a few simple words uttered to God for immediate help to reach my goal. “Zip my lips” became a favorite. “Sprinkle my words with grace” I said often.

This year for present needs, I’ve settled on this theme scripture: “O LORD, listen to my cry; give me the discerning mind you promised (Psalm 119:169 NLT). Amid the tugs of life, I need discernment to make wise decisions.

Psalm 119 is a favorite because throughout its 176 verses the principles of ask, seek and knock are presented again and again. Some days, I get bogged down in details, surrounded by paper work, and clamored by noise. For those type days in 2006, I plan this breath prayer, repeating the psalmist’s plea. “Come and find me” (vs 176).

Personal improvement is at least two-fold, to better represent Christ to seekers and to please the Lord. An aside is becoming more pleasant in the presence of others. Family, friends, fellow Christians, church committee members and coworkers will thank you!

Hopes, dreams, resolutions—make them a reality. This year include God, his word and heartfelt “Come and find me” prayers. Give God permission to ask, seek and knock in your life.

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Friday, January 06, 2006

Procrastination

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If you wait for perfect conditions, you will never get anything done. Ecclesiastes 11:4 NLT

One habit that hinders personal progress is procrastination. The second week in March is designated as the official week of procrastination. So, if putting things off is a vice, one could wait until spring and the official calendar days to think about changing this negative habit.

Procrastination is defined as putting off a task until tomorrow, usually something that is dreaded. While humans constantly procrastinate, I can find no reference to God as a procrastinator, one who shuns the work at hand. The psalmist says, “As for God, his way is perfect” (18: 10).

What if God grew too lazy to send rain? Has God ever been too distracted to wake the sun? Was there ever a time when God became sidetracked by warring children and ceased to keep the stars in place? God is dependable—not a procrastinator.

People who wait until tomorrow tend to break promises to themselves and others. How many times have I said, “Tomorrow I’ll eat less, wash the car, and visit Aunt Sally.” But when dawn arrived, excuses marched in with the sun rays.

Professional coaches who help with organizing say the number one reason for avoiding a chore is that the task is dreaded. Cleaning out the horse stall, mowing the yard, balancing the checkbook—all of that work is beneficial if done timely. But delays of weeks can bring on five-star disasters. David Allen says stress doesn't come from having too much to do. It comes from not finishing what was started.

Most people must take care of day-to-day chores through household members. “Only Robinson Crusoe had everything done by Friday.” Another witty anonymous soul said, “If it weren't for the last minute, I wouldn't get anything done.” But living life on the last minute hand of the clock means many frazzled moments. By now, I’ve identified several responsibilities I habitually put off. But what’s to be done about them?

The best suggestions I’ve found is to break tasks into small manageable segments, then spend 15 minutes (not last minutes) to work heartily on the project. Through seven days of fresh-morning-minutes, bit by bit, snarls and kinks are straightened. Unkempt corners are de-cluttered, and paperwork is put away. A week of hard work can equal a finished job. Snippets of time spent on put-off projects equals peace. When a long delayed chore is finished, give yourself a pat on the back. Dust off your hands and tackle another overdue job.

Laziness underwrites procrastination. Jimmy Lyons said, “Tomorrow is the only day that appeals to a lazy man.” Sloth is one of the seven deadly sins, and it is can be fatal to spiritual progress.

Attentiveness to daily tasks acknowledges God, our constant caregiver. Industry honors the Creator and keeps one in tune with the workings of his world. The God who changes seasons on time, who regulates the tides, who keeps a house in place through gravity can assist anyone with the problem of procrastination.

Don’t hesitate. Today, ask for help.

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Friday, December 30, 2005

Resolutions-Hindering Habits

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Man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. Luke 12:15

December 31st is looming, the traditional time to make reasonable or rash resolutions. By now, many have toyed with adjustments to improve attitudes or atmosphere. But contemplating change is different from resolving to make a change. To “resolve” to live differently is to make a firm decision to do something.

Over the next few weeks, this column will mention a few hindering habits, roadblocks to the reality of an abundant life in Christ. Jesus said, “I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10 NIV). The Greek word rendered “full” or “more abundantly” means “above the common.”

One hindering habit is the love of possessions. Jesus lets followers know that he can shepherd them to the best in life—honoring God and loving fellow earth mates. He tried to help a rich ruler grasp this concept. Here’s their conversation found in Luke 18 and Mark 10.

“Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” The ruler recognized Jesus as an exceptional rabbi, but not as deity. Jesus answered that no one was good except God alone and then recounted some of the old law such as not committing adultery, murder, and theft, and honoring parents. The rich man ignored the invitation to acknowledge Jesus as God and instead focused on the rules he had kept since youth.

The ruler replied that he hadn’t committed any offenses in the ten-commandment- category. Jesus “looked at him and loved him.” He told him to sell all he owned and give the money to the poor. “Then come, follow me.” Upon hearing the answer, “the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.”

Then Jesus commented about life: “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

Those who overheard this conversation between Jesus and the rich man wondered aloud, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus answered, “What is impossible with men is possible with God.”

The rich man had asked what he could do to inherit eternal life. Jesus told him what he needed to become to inherit eternal life. Like God, he could become a sympathizer and helper to the poor. This ruler had a tight fist around his bank account, for him crunching numbers was fun. He found it easy enough to be pious, to follow religious rules. Eliminating neighborhood poverty at his expense—that was impossible.

Net Aid gives these definitions of poverty: Extreme or absolute poverty is defined as making less than $1 a day, unable to afford the basic necessities to sustain life. Over eight million die each year from extreme poverty. Those in moderate poverty make only $1 to $2 dollars a day, barely enough to sustain life, not enough for health care or education. Relative poverty is defined as those who live below a national income average.

In 2006 I want to change a habit that hinders. I’m asking God to clip heartstrings attached to belongings. My firm decision is to pare down possessions, to aid the poor and scout for abundant life, one rich with possibilities.

www.cathymessecar.com -- Next hindering-habits column on procrastination.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Celebrating Christmas with American Sign Language

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The Good News in ASL

“Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the LORD.” Psalm 134:2

On the church stage, “Christmas Journey” was acted out in American Sign Language for the deaf audience. For the hearing audience, the script was voice interpreted.

This December as my husband and I watched the excellent production at Woodhaven Baptist Deaf Church, two scriptures came to mind: about lifting holy hands and Isaiah’s prophecy that the deaf would “hear the words of the scroll” (Isaiah 29:18).

Last year, a Woodhaven member invited me to their annual Christmas Drama. In our conversation, the member related how this generation could be the one to more completely fulfill Isaiah’s prophecy that the deaf will hear about the Messiah.

Over 100 sign languages exist in the world. American Sign Language is the fourth language of the United States. Some colleges even offer it for foreign language credit, and more than 23 million Americans are deaf. Gaulledet University’s President said, “Deaf people can do anything . . . except hear.” With clarity, Woodhaven Baptist Deaf Church demonstrated that in the production of a “Christmas Journey.”

As my husband and I watched the drama unfold, we became enamored with the Deaf World where “sign language is spoken.” Dawn Sign Press says the deaf “listen with their eyes,” and “facial expressions and body language say as much as the human voice.”

That night we listened with our eyes, too. And this is what we saw. On stage, a group of Christians planned a trip to the Holy Land. They packed, met at the airport, flew across an ocean and put their feet down in the land of milk and honey.

There, a Jewish tour guide regaled them with stories of the Christ. Near a large tour bus, he told of Gabriel’s announcement, to Mary, the visit to her cousin Elizabeth, and Joseph’s concern when he found out about Mary’s pregnancy. At stage left, the tour guide’s words came to life.

During Act 2, fatigued tourist Fred took a siesta. He dreamed about Jesus’ birth, baptism, ministry, crucifixion, and triumphant resurrection. With precision and pageantry, the cast of 60 enacted Fred’s dreams and convinced us we were in the Holy Land, too. An additional 20 supported the drama—voice interpreters, costume designers, and lighting experts.

Orchestrated songs accompanied the play, and the hearing audience had the double pleasure of hearing the melodies and watching the praise in American Sign Language. The signing of “Breath of Heaven” and “Come as You Are” were especially poetic.

Long ago, at an inspirational musical concert, I sat behind a mother who interpreted for her deaf teenage daughter. The mother’s precious hands told her daughter of Christ’s love. That night, my understanding of “lifting holy hands” broadened. Again this month, thanksgiving arose for the beautiful hands that year round tell the Christmas Story.

During Jesus’ ministry, he literally opened the ears of the deaf. He healed. Today, the Christian Deaf World continues his mending mission. With passion they accept their heart-healing assignment to share the gospel. They lift holy hands and sign Jesus’ story about a stable, a star, a Savior, and a sacrifice.

“In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll.” Isaiah 29:18

www.cathymessecar.com

Sunday, December 18, 2005

1534 Carol

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CHRISTMAS CAROLS

In December several years back, way back, when J C. Penny’s catalog store took up one corner of downtown Conroe, I ambled toward my car. As I neared my vehicle I heard carols. Thinking one of the downtown stores piped music outdoors for the shoppers, I twisted my head back and forth to discover the instigator of such joyful noise.

Embarrassment colored my face as I neared my car. A week or so earlier, our radio broke, and for some reason the shade tree mechanic directly wired the radio to the battery. I’d turned off my car, but not the fully powered radio. The windows of the Dodge pulsed with the tinkling notes of a jolly Christmas song. The car seemed a living thing and the volume amplified as I neared. I hopped in and flew away like the down of a thistle.

For the most part, Christmas carols bring tidings of joy. But not all carols are about merry gentlemen resting, midnights clear, or the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. One carol is particularly haunting.

The Coventry Carol, written in 15 34 by Robert Croo, is a lament. The song honors the Christ Child and the babies killed when King Herod ordered their execution. After the magi saw a defining star in their ever-watched and interpreted sky, they traveled to Judea. They asked King Herod of Jerusalem if he knew where this young child lived, the future King of the Jews.

Seeming solicitous, the deceptive Herod asked for the magi to notify him when this child was found, saying he wanted to worship the baby, too. The wise men eventually found Jesus and worshiped him but didn’t return to Herod with an address. Warned in a dream, they bypassed Jerusalem.

Because of a dream-warning, Joseph, Mary, and the baby Jesus escaped to Egypt. Herod planned to rule at all costs, and thinking the child Jesus was still in the vicinity of Bethlehem, ordered executions of every male under age two. Foretold in Old Testament prophecy; the horrendous act caused the women to weep for their “children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more” (Jeremiah 31:15). Estimates of deaths range from 20-60.

The Coventry Carol’s words “Lullay, Thou little tiny Child, by, by, lully, lullay” sound like a lullaby, but chronicle Herod’s massacre. Recently, my husband and I attended a concert by Kemper Crabb and band, featuring carols from their Medieval Christmas album/CD.

Crabb remarked before singing the Coventry Carol words similar to these: History tells of the atrocities of Herod and later one period is called by some the Dark Ages. In a thousand years, will our generation be considered the real Dark Age because of all the unborn we have slaughtered? These are some statistics I found when writing this article: Russian abortions surpassed live births in 2005. Americans aborted over a million babies per year for years.

The group then sang the Coventry Carol, “Herod the King, in his raging, Charged he hath this day, His men of might, in his own sight, All children young to slay.” The moment pierced my mother-heart.

When you kiss your babies, your grandchildren and your adult children this Christmas, lift a prayer of thanks to God. Celebrate. Laugh. Enjoy Christmas carols. But through the season, listen for the Coventry Carol. Remember the innocents then and now. “For Thy parting, nor say nor sing, By, by lully, lullay.”

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Friday, December 09, 2005

Los Posadas

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Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:29

Running on our last ounces of energy we needed to rest, we needed to find our motel room.

Late one December evening, my brother, sister and I drove to Arkansas for a family funeral. Because of work schedules, we left about 10 PM and had a five and one half hour drive to reach our destination. We siblings rarely get that much time to visit, and before we knew it we crossed the state line.

Over an hour later, the digital dashboard clock showed 3:30 AM, and we drove into the parking area of a motel where our reserved double room awaited. All talked out, we were ready for slumber and rest.

Los Posadas, meaning the inn, is a traditional festival of Mexico that reenacts the searching-scenario of Joseph. In Bethlehem of Judea over 2,000 years ago, Joseph and the full term Mary hunted for a place of rest. The timing or mission was not of their choosing. The Roman government required each person to return to the town of their ancestry to be taxed.

Bethlehem, packed with the obligated, didn’t have room for one more citizen, not even a woman in labor. Innkeepers shook their heads. But Joseph, bent on finding a place to nest, kept inquiring about lodging. Finally, someone pitied the burdened man and woman and pointed toward an animal shelter.

Los Posadas is remembered in Mexico and now in the states through a house-to-house search for a dwelling place. At night between December 16 and 24th , by candlelight a group of adults and children carry figurines of Joseph, Mary and the Christ Child. They walk a community street, and at pre-selected homes, they knock and inquire if they can find lodging. As they reach a house, the group led by Joseph, sings in Spanish “En nombre de cielo. In the name of heaven, I ask you for posada, for my beloved wife can walk no more.”

The homeowners turn the pilgrims away and sing in answer, “This is not an inn, keep walking. I will not open, you might be a thief.” Each night the travelers are refused refuge until the final house is reached. On that night, the innkeeper sings, “Posada I give to you, Holy Pilgrims, and I beg your pardon, I had not recognized you.”

At this last home, the seekers are welcomed for a feast and a candy-filled piñata for the children. The first Los Posadas took place in Mexico in 1538 when missionaries came to the new continent.

On the starry night in Bethlehem, someone gave shelter to the weary Joseph and Mary, and Jesus was born that night. Thirty years later, lodging for the tired and sin sick became central to Jesus’ message. “Come to me all who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Like my siblings and I, most have experienced physical exhaustion from journeying. Another kind of weariness comes about from complications brought on by sin in our own lives or loved ones.

Jesus gives long term respite for souls. Jesus is posadas, an inn, a place of rest. He stands ready to lift the baggage from our hearts. The Christ taps on the door and seeks entrance. Welcome Him. He’s the best houseguest you’ll ever have.

www.cathymessecar.com

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Jesus is Jubilee

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An invitation arrives in the mail. It’s a thick envelope, carefully addressed. The return address simply reads, “Jubilee.”

Befuddled about what type of celebration this could be, the envelope is opened. It seems a 50th year is about to commence. The benefits—all credit card debts are cancelled, the indentured will be set free, and family lands revert to original owners. To participants this invitation spells euphoria.

That imaginary scene resembles the plan in Leviticus 25 where God set in motion the blessings of a Jubilee year. God intended relief every 50th year. At half-century marks, God intended debts be forgiven, servants freed, and farmlands to lie fallow.

Jubilee spelled rest. For those living under the Mosaic Law, at least two reasons existed for this 50th year celebration. If a family succumbed to misfortune, the year of Jubilee provided opportunity for restructure, leveling opportunities for success.

Often the indebted became ordinary servants for fellow Hebrews, assuring the poor of at least shelter and food. However, at the beginning of Jubilee, they were released from the work arrangement.

Also in the fiftieth year, land was not farmed and reverted back to original owners. God wanted his people to remember that “the land must not be sold permanently because the land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants” (25:23). Occupants only. Not owners.

Isaiah prophesied about a jubilee Savior, a “good news” king to the poor and the brokenhearted. This king would set captives free. The time of these events was proclaimed as the “year of the Lord’s favor” (Isaiah 61:1-2).

Near the beginning of Jesus’ ministry on a Sabbath day of rest, the Christ (Anointed) read from a scroll the words of Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news.”

His message arrived for the bankrupt, those in bondage to sin, and the spiritually blind. Further, Jesus said to them, “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:16-21). Jesus is Jubilee.

Matthew Henry writes that “jubilee” or “jobel” signifies a particular sound of the trumpet, “distinguishable from any other.” This sound went forth at the end of the Day of Atonement when God reconciled with man.

In the Savior a continuous jubilee is celebrated. Through Jesus, God spelled out “peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

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Friday, December 02, 2005

Star of Bethlehem

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STAR OF BETHLEHEM

“We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” Matthew 2:2

December 23, 2004, my husband and I drove to Rudder Auditorium in College Station, TX for Rick Larsen’s presentation on the Bethlehem Star. Mr. Larsen advises, “Arrive early.” Even two days before Christmas, the 2,500 seat auditorium quickly filled to near capacity.

Through centuries, skeptics, believers and the curious wondered about Matthew’s biblical account of the star. Lawyer and law professor Rick Larson presides over The Star Project, a non-profit organization. Through multimedia and “seen by tens of thousands in the U.S. and Europe, Larson leads you sleuthing through biblical and many other historical clues.”

Larsen pilots “a computer model of the universe across the skies of 2000 years ago.” During the display, participants “see the striking celestial events the ancients saw.”

Key players in Larsen’s conclusions are Johannes Kepler, computers and the gospel of Matthew. Kepler, a brilliant mathematician living 1571-1630, published the Laws of Planetary Motion. The Laws are still in use today by NASA, the European Space Agency and others.

Only after many days spent on calculations could Kepler draw a specific nighttime sky. Today, in mere heartbeats, computer software, using Kepler’s configurations, can chart the 2000-year-old sky over Judea. Pick a date, time and location and turn the computer loose.

Astrology claims celestial bodies exert forces and influence humans. The Bible states God directs the affairs of men, but does place signs in his created heavens, messages from the Almighty.

“There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars,” said Jesus (Luke 21:25). Over 2000 years ago, eastern Magi scholars saw a sign-star, eventually leading them to Bethlehem and Jesus. The gospel writer Matthew outlines nine star-criteria that must match any modern conclusions.

Scripture and science shake hands in Larsen’s findings. Rudder Auditorium shows this year are on December 8th and 22nd at 7:00PM, on the Texas A&M campus.

View the schedule for other December Bethlehem Star presentations at www.bethlehemstar.net . This month, Larsen will be in Texas, Kansas and Colorado. His conclusions and findings are also posted at the Web site.

Ronald A. Schorn, Ph.D. founder of the Planetary Astronomy Department of NASA says, “About 99.9% of the Star of Bethlehem stuff is nutty, but this isn't . . . it’s well-researched and reasonable."

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Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Insignificant?

A quote from the past that addresses today's concerns about traditional marriage:

Question: "In a world without women what would men become?"

Mark Twain: "Scarce, sir. Mighty scarce."

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

The Golden Bird

A happy heart makes the face cheerful. Proverbs 15:13

One dark and stormy Thanksgiving Day, in my kitchen I wrestled a thawed turkey onto the drain board. The snoozing sun, blanketed by thunderclouds, started to peek from the horizon. Groggy, I set the coffee maker to brewing my wake-up java. Coffee done, I poured a cup and wrapped my hands around the warm mug. I read The Courier, and my eyes made their usual stops along the newsprint pages.

Finally, I could dally no longer, so I poured a second cup of coffee and laid out my turkey tools. Grabbing the kitchen shears, I snipped a hole in the snug plastic wrapper around the turkey, but a shiver of fright ran along my arms when I saw the price tag.

I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. I spewed coffee, and blinked again. What I saw couldn’t be true. The price tag read $39.71, BONELESS, SKINLESS TURKEY BREAST. What? I didn’t want all white meat. I wanted turkey drumsticks, and usually paid nothing for the Thanksgiving turkey. This Tom cost 40 bucks.

Those earlier November ads were clever. Grocers enticed shoppers with an offer of a free turkey. Many gave one away or only charged 39 cents per pound if a shopper bought at least $20.00 of mincemeat, marmalade, and mousse makings.

My mind returned to the plastic encased poultry. Did I really pay $40.00? Maybe he was free after all. I lathered hands, rinsed and dried and went in search of my grocery receipt. Locating it, a quadruple digit leaped out of the number rank. Sure enough, the main course, supposed-to-be-free fowl, had deficited my budget by nearly half a hundred.

It was too late to give “Tom” his freedom. Too late to return him to the grocer. All ready, near Austin, relatives were packing their car, readying to drive to our house. I returned to the kitchen, snipped off his price tag and laid it aside.

Once more, I began to cut the plastic away from the turkey, I consoled myself that at least I’d bought a boneless skinless breast, and we’d have prime turkey. But no. Under the fancy price and phony label was a Pilgrim-plain, bone-in, drumstick-protruding turkey.

Through the rest of dinner preparations, like a neon sign, the $39.71 price tag flashed in my mind. I decided to keep my secret. I corralled my thoughts and shut down the complaint department and ordained “thanksgivings.”

By noon that day, pies were sliced, flaky rolls huddled in an old bun warmer, and a quarter cup of real butter melted on a mound of mashed potatoes. I lifted the browned, “golden,” bird from the oven. He preened on a silver platter.

At our feast table, guests seemed to enjoy cranberries, carrots, and costly turkey. His price tag intruded in my mind once more, and each taste of turkey felt like swallowing half dollars, ca-ching, ca-ching.

I consoled myself. Someday, I’d memorialize this old bird in a story. He could outlive the gravy and the clan. I recalled other renowned fowl—Daffy and Donald Duck, Chicken Little, and Tweety Bird. But I especially remembered the goose that laid the golden eggs.

My Thanksgiving bird might join the ranks of other famous fowl. He might earn his keep after all. Someday, Tom Turkey might even make a name for himself.

The cheerful heart has a continual feast. Proverbs 15:15

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Friday, November 18, 2005

Cultivating Thanksgiving

"Don’t pray when it rains if you don’t pray when the sun shines."
Leroy Satchel Paige

I reached into the linen closet and pulled out a “tradition.” If you read this column in past years, you may recall our family custom. We use a new tight-weave cotton sheet for our Thanksgiving tablecloth, and guests write a note of thanks with permanent Sharpie markers
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Reading praises written on the makeshift cloth, I see that they chronicle our family-trek. Matrimony added new family members. A baby’s arrival was announced one year, and by the next November she was five months old. Toddlers’ artwork stands out, and preschooler penmanship progressed from ABCs written backwards to perfect spelled thanksgivings.

Gratitude is more than good manners. Expressing thanks is choosing to see what is good. Even when the sky is falling, I can be thankful for Chicken Little’s warning.

In a wealthy society, people are surrounded by many manmade objects. Many citizens are generations removed from the slower paced farm life where man interacted with God in growing food. We’re better at sniffing Starbuck’s coffee than smelling roses.

To cultivate gratitude, give yourself a thanksgiving-workout. Go outdoors. Don’t have anything plastic in sight. Just go out in the fields with God. Breathe deeply. Look up and absorb the enormity of the heavens. Bend low and peek at tiny blades of browning weeds. Watch while autumn bugs maneuver their grassland forest. And give thanks.

If a trip into the country or backyard isn’t possible, follow the psalmist’s lead and thank God for your life. “I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well” (Psalm 139:14).

How often am I grateful for toes that balance or for the bottom of my feet, long lasting and sturdier than tire-tread? For ambidextrous hands, sense of smell, emotions, and muscles -- I forget to give thanks for this physical body that propels me through life. But I tend to complain when an ailment interferes with proper function.

Last year after Thanksgiving, I heard from reader Judy Bowyer in Garland, TX, one of the 4,000 receiving the column by e-mail. She adopted our tradition and wrote: “I have to tell you my success story about the tablecloth. Before Thanksgiving, I went to Linens & Things (because I had a coupon!) to look for a sheet for my ‘memories’ tablecloth.

“But while there, I found they had a sale on quilts and I had a sudden inspiration. My home lends itself to country cozy things. I chose a twin sized quilt that had patchwork square designs, but were in light colors. . . . I placed it on the table and provided the permanent pens for remarks to be written . . . . The signing of the quilt was a huge success and I have no doubt will become one of our many ‘traditions.’"

At the Messecar house in a few days, I’ll spread our keepsake cloth on the dining table. In 2003, my dad’s entry on the tablecloth was Psalm 118:24. “This is the day the Lord has made; let us be glad and rejoice in it.” Delighting in Jesus, salvation, and another sunrise is good advice. Happy Thanksgiving.

www.cathymessecar.com

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Veterans Day-God's Storehouse

John Kline, former sergeant and squad leader in WW II, kept a diary of his experiences during the Ardennes Offensive, commonly called the Battle of the Bulge, fought December 16, 1944 -- January 28, 1945. For many years he kept the hand-written 15 pages in a cigar box. Later, he reconstructed the three days he fought and his capture; his diary may be read on the Internet.

More than one million fought in this battle: 500,000 Americans, 55,000 British, and 600,000 Germans. Casualties were some of the highest in WW II, with the official US total reaching 80,987, including wounded, captured and dead. British casualties were 1,400. The Germans suffered 81,834 casualties. The scared and nervous, age 19 Sergeant Kline, heavy machine gun squad leader, said he could “personally confirm that a snow covered tree stump will actually move. That is, if you stare at it long enough.”

After several days of treacherous fighting, Sergeant John Kline was captured and taken as a prisoner of war on December 19th. This began over four months of captivity in which he walked a total of 525 miles. He was “sheltered” for about five weeks of that time, lost 50 pounds, and was not ambulatory when liberated.

For those still engaged in the battle, it raged on into a snowy January, the coldest on record for the Belgium/German border. Sub zero temperatures froze fuel and feet. Tanks and trucks were started every half hour to avoid oil freezing. Many historians believe the bitter weather actually prevented even more casualties. Perhaps their assessments coincide with what God said about himself.

God spoke with Job, revealing the forces he sets aside for perilous times: “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle?” (Job 38: 22, 23).

By Friday the 13th in April, an American soldier came into John Kline’s line of view and held out chocolates. The young soldier knew his grueling ordeal had ended. Moved to a field evacuation hospital, he began his journey of gaining weight and strength. Leaving the medical tents, he flew to a General Hospital in Paris, France. He then flew home to the states, where he remained in an Indianapolis hospital for an additional two weeks of observation.

On May the 20th, he returned to his hometown of Terre Haute, Indiana. He got off the bus 12 blocks early thinking “I’m home. I’m home.” He walked and ran the rest of the distance to greet his wife, and to see his nine month old son, Teddie, for the first time.

In 1999, John Kline joined a group of 32 WW II veterans who returned to Germany. At a prearranged meeting, they greeted former German soldiers. Warmth and friendliness prevailed, and after exchanging stories, one German said with tears in his eyes, “It is hard to believe that we each stood up in the Ardennes and tried to kill each other."

It is my belief if mothers’ prayers about wars prevailed, there would be no more clashes between rulers. Please God, shorten the times we fight among ourselves. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. Reach deep into your storehouses, the ones preserved for days of battle.

To all who served, thank you and Happy Veterans Day.

You may contact Cathy Messecar at www.cathymessecar.com

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Teeth Marks in Apples

Shopping in the supermarket earlier this week, I glanced around the apple bins. When I found our favorite variety, I looked for the choicest fruits. The apples were in slanted containers, within easy reach of children. Quite a few Red Delicious and Gala apples had tiny teeth marks.

I’ve witnessed this sneaky sampling by children. When a parent is busy bagging cucumbers or carrots, their hungry preschooler spots a shiny apple. Apples are to eat, right? The child bites into the luscious fruit before dad or mom spies the misconduct. Teeth buried in apple skin, they are told, “Put that back.” The fruit isn’t ruined completely, but no longer is it perfect.

In the beginning, when Adam and Eve lived in the Garden of Eden which meant “paradise,” perfect harmony prevailed. Ideals existed for man and woman, llamas and lions, birds and bees. But, through calculated plans, an evil presence destroyed perfection.

During the creative process, God surveyed his daily handiwork and “saw that it was good.” After gathering the seas into basins, exposing land, fashioning light rays we see and light rays we don’t see, God “saw that it was good.” When man and woman and all the elements of earth were completed, “God saw that it was very good” (Genesis 1).

Faultless, Adam and Eve lived in the garden of God. But a spoiler entered the perfect scene, and deceived the man and woman living in paradise. Satan twisted the truth. The woman and man believed his words rather than God’s, and sin entered the world. Satan said they could eat a forbidden fruit and not be harmed. Said they could sink their teeth in it and not be tainted. Satan lied.

After a few generations, God gave written laws to help people reconnect with truth. God gave moral and civil laws through Abraham’s lineage. He gave standards. He drew lines in the desert sand. The laws were perfect, but people found themselves imperfect. Keeping every law was simply impossible.

From Genesis to Malachi, the Old Testament books, God left inspired stories of partial successes and failures. A reading of those accounts reveals how much help is needed to live upright. Human strife is constant. Current, evening news discloses that nothing has changed about human nature in thousands of years. The fruit is spoiled. It has teeth marks in it. The word of God tells how fresh fruit is grown.

I realize that not everyone believes the Bible. Some think it is an ancient book with no relevance to today. I’ve heard this question, “How could any book written so long ago, apply to our lives today?” The answer lies in the author. The words weren’t dreamed up by a Neanderthal man. The Creator inspired writers to pen events that would stand the test of time, stand the test of cultures, and stand the test of every philosophy. Creator God who knows us better than our closest relative, left a guidebook.

I am in awe that God told a writer the story of creation. And that writer recorded dialogue between God and the first man and woman. And when Eve had her first baby, her words of love are on a page in black and white. About relevancy of the Bible, Corrie Ten Boon said she marveled that “the ink was dry on the pages.”

The answers to the basics of life are in the Bible. God’s ordained pattern for love, sex, and marriage is in the Bible. By reading the Bible, many of the life style issues of today could be viewed from God’s perspective.

In Jesus Christ, God promises a fruit that is perfect, that has no teeth marks in it. To those who seek and find him he gives the unspoiled fruit of the Spirit.

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. (Galatians 5:22-25).

Cathy Messecar at www.cathymessecar.com

Friday, October 28, 2005

The Measure of a Life

This week, Rosa Parks died in her sleep, a courageous woman who brought attention to many inequalities. In 1955 in Montgomery, Alabama, a white bus driver demanded Ms. Parks vacate her seat on a bus for a white passenger. She refused. To give in, she would have violated her conscience.

Ms. Park’s passing reminded me of Abraham Lincoln’s life and final days. Carl Sandburg author of Abraham Lincoln, the Prairie Years and the War Years, recounts from historical documents the last hours of Lincoln’s life.

On Good Friday 1865, Mr. Lincoln, wife Mary and two friends attended a play at Ford’s Theater. An assassin entered their private box and mortally wounded the President by firing a one-shot brass derringer propelling a lead ball less than a half inch in diameter. Charles A. Leal, a 23-year-old assistant surgeon, gave immediate aid. Through mouth to mouth resuscitation and other measures, Mr. Lincoln breathed.

Unconscious, the President was carried onto 10th street. Across from Ford Theatre, a man standing in a doorway with a lighted candle beckoned the entourage into his home. The President was placed in a rented room upon a plain walnut bed, padded by a “cornhusk mattress resting on rope lacings.”

His condition steadily worsened through the night. Dawn found Mr. Lincoln surrounded by three devoted doctors. As his pulse slowed, breathing became more labored, and the end drew near. Surgeon General Barnes had his finger on Mr. Lincoln’s carotid artery. Dr. Taft’s large palm lay across the President’s chest. The young Charles Leal never seated himself, but stood by the President all night, most often holding his right hand, keeping his index finger on his pulse.

Later, Leal explained that just before departing this earth, recognition and reason sometimes returns to those who have been unconscious for hours. Leal said he determined to “hold his right hand firmly within my grasp to let him know in his blindness that he was in touch with humanity and had a friend.”

Rosa Parks and President Abraham Lincoln lived with adversity before and after they acted for justice and freedom. Ms. Parks was arrested because she defied an unjust law, but in later years was honored for her courage. President Lincoln, a key figure in slavery abolishment, reaped both love and slander.

On September 22, 1862 Abraham Lincoln signed a Proclamation saying that on January 1st of 1863 all slaves would be “forever free.” Godly changes in society rarely come without a price. Solomon said, “If you wait for perfect conditions, you will never get anything done” (Ecclesiastes 11:4 NLT). Passivity is the “act” of doing nothing.

A woodsmen proverb says, “A tree is best measured when down.” When life is gone, these questions are often voiced: “What was wrong?” “How did they die?” The better question, the better measure of a life is “How did they live?”

You may contact Cathy Messecar at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Saturday, October 22, 2005

God's Promises

Bad news or good news, which would you rather receive? Most prefer good news. Because of a government clerical error, my friend Paula received a notice from the Internal Revenue Service saying their business owed $36,000 in back taxes. The misunderstanding was resolved, but Paula’s initial reaction was over-the-top hyperventilation. She did feel faint.

Unlike Paula, the Israelites sometimes got unwelcome news because of their disobedience. Often, news about the future came from one of God’s prophets. God made promises to the obedient and disobedient, but the promises varied in degrees of blessing and meted-out justice.

God’s prophecies often arrived amid similes.

On more than one occasion God sent messages through Jeremiah. For several generations, some clans in Israel worshiped idols, and did detestable things such as sacrificing their morals and children. God described them as having traveling feet that walked away from God. They trusted in their own strength.

God characterized these strays as “stunted shrubs in the desert with no hope for the future” (Jeremiah 17:5 NLT). That’s the dry, crusty land where reptiles grow thick skin to survive.

However, God compared a faithful follower to a tree “planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream” (17:8). This tree is portrayed as green and fruit-bearing even in droughts. The tree is personified as not having fears or worries (17:8 NIV). What a portrait.

For me, crop plenty and crop failure is easy to picture. Years ago, I had a fine garden—organic fertilizer, plenty of rainfall, and the perfect amount of sunny days—that produced hefty tomatoes. So many fruits ripened, we set up saw horses and put a sheet of plywood on top to hold the bounty. A good crop from healthy plants.

But this spring my three spindly tomato plants got a late start due to cold mornings. After too much shade and lack of moisture, nibbling worms also bit into the harvest. In July, we picked half a dozen pitiable runts. A bad crop from shriveled vines.

Throughout Jeremiah’s life he delivered prophecies of horror and hope. Although he delivered plenty of bad news, he was privileged to broadcast the very best news: a Savior for all. God pledged: “I will fulfill the gracious promise I made to the house of Israel and to the house of Judah . . . I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line” (33: 14. 15).

Most of us, if we’re honest, are a mixture of good and bad, in need of divine nourishment from above. Writer Mary Connealy pens that concept in the words beneath her signature: “Standing on his promises, falling on his grace.”

In her slogan, Mary captures the human drama of deliverance. Brokenness can be healed. Good News has arrived in Jesus. By relying on him, we are “standing on his promises, falling on his grace.”

You may contact Cathy at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Wars and Rumors of Wars

I firmly believe if God allowed mothers' prayers to rule the world, wars would cease.

Or if the love of God ruled in the world, women wouldn't have to plead for wars to end.

Friday, October 14, 2005

News from India reader about Pakistan

Terrible Scenes (First hand information from the quake hit areas)

I am on the wayback to homeland from the land of devastation. Terrible scenes I have seen. Both my body and mind are so upset. I am unable to describe, but feeling.... Is it the shadow of the hell. There are still having earthquakes.

I brought some bundles of food packets and old clothes. I thought I can distribute them one by one. But I couldn't. Before that, the hungry people jumped over it, took the packets grabbing and ate it like anything. Really I was not feeling well, because of the journey, climate and heavy rain. When I saw the people eating food packets, I forgot my illness and I could not control my tears.

Just two ago relief works started at more than 10 villages. Defence people taking control of it. There are many more villages yet to start relief works. Those areas are at the elevation of 8300 to 9000 feet. The smelling of the dead bodies, no helps for the injured people, rest of the people are attacked by the diseases, starvation, and creatures and insects all around.

In a village there are few believers of Jesus Christ. (99% of the entire area is muslims. They are having so much influence with the terrorist groups. So ours (Salem Voice Ministries: http://salemvoice.bravehost.com) is a hidden ministry for teaching the redeeming love of Jesus Christ. I cannot say the details, because of the security reasons of our believers as well as ministers). By God's grace nobody died from the believers. But most of them injured and lost everything. Our volunteers are doing best sevice as much as they can. It is quiet natural that they face neglection from others, even at the need of relief. Prayer supports from the children of our Lord is badly...... badly....... very badly needed. I cannot express more words. Act as the Holy ! Spirit speaks.

Yours in the love of Messiah Yeshua

Pastor Paul Ciniraj
Salem Voice Ministries.
http://salemvoice.bravehost.com

Friday, October 07, 2005

To complain or not...

Do everything without complaining or arguing. Philippians 2:14

“Ain’t it Awful.” Those were the words printed across the top of the chart my daughter Sheryle brought home from Sunday school when she was 10. That day, her Bible teacher emphasized not complaining.

Sheryle attached the chart to the front of the fridge. Vertically, the grid had each family member’s name, and horizontally, the days of the week. She said she would monitor the family. If anyone complained, she’d say “Ain’t it awful” and place a mark by the name of the offender.

I smiled, thinking how much the children needed this lesson. Later Sunday afternoon, I dropped a bowl of cookie dough. Guess who whined? Me.

My daughter, the self-appointed president of the complaint department, said, “Ain’t it awful,” and I received the first black mark on the chart.

Aggravations may arrive in bunches. They often cluster into a single hour, clamoring for attention. Glitches in paper work, a hangnail, or a flat tire. All can seem monstrous.

When frustrations mount, it’s tempting to tattle to someone and gripe about the latest mishaps. Resist complaining because grumbling is contagious. The story of 12 scouts who explored the land of Canaan is in Numbers chapter 14: when the twelve men returned to their families, ten complained about giant warriors in the land. They in turn “made the whole community grumble“(vs. 36).

Griping focuses on what is wrong, instead of on what is going right, the blessings from God. Charles Hodge says, “The really happy man is one who enjoys the scenery when on a detour.” This past week my can opener disappeared. I literally opened cans with a stout knife and metal meat mallet. Do not try this at home. The good about that situation: I had food. I had tools, and I didn’t even nick a finger.

In that same week while driving in heavy traffic, a fire ant assaulted my sandaled toes. I endured his stinging complaint for nearly a mile before it was safe enough to eliminate the problem. A blessing to focus on: one less fire ant in the world. Sorry, fire ant lovers.

So many times in preaching, teaching and writing, problems are identified, but solutions are not offered. The apostle Paul offered remedies to tetchy problems. When he wrote his letter to the Philippians he was in a Roman prison. Early in his correspondence he said, “Do everything without complaining or arguing.” Paul was under guard, confined, restricted, incarcerated, but again and again, at least eight times, he encouraged the Philippians to rejoice.

Near the end of Paul’s letter, he gives the antidote to complaining: “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (4:8). He also gave credit to God for enabling him to say, “I have learned to be content in all circumstances” (4:11).

I taped another “Ain’t it awful” chart on my refrigerator — a reminder to think about the good in life, even if detour signs go up this week.

You may contact Cathy Messecar at www.cathymessecar.com

Friday, September 30, 2005

Storm Surge

Storm Surge

The boat rocked. Waves slapped its wooden hull. The men on board lunged with the craft, stances unsteady. Streaks of electricity split the charcoal skies, bringing the prospect of even more danger. One direct hit to the mast and they were going down.

The stormy night, beyond their control, spewed water into the hull of their boat. If a massive wave came along, no human strength could stop the boat from capsizing. Fishing nets they could mend and manage, but the roiling lake grabbed the fishermen’s imaginations and took them on a spin of terror.

The men clung to the boat’s rigging, hoping for the storm to abate. But the storm didn’t go away. Instead, their reasons for alarm increased when what seemed to be a ghost appeared above the water surface. They wanted the approaching phantom to disappear. Blinking water from their eyes, shaking their heads, they tried to banish the ghost from their vision.

The supposed apparition didn’t go away, but spoke to them with a familiar voice — the voice of Jesus. His soothing voice offered hope to his fishermen followers, “Take courage.”

His presence and words seemed to say, “I’m here now. Cheer up. I’ve got enough courage to go around, and besides all that, I control the fury of storms.” After identifying himself to his disciples, Jesus again urged them “Don’t be afraid. Then he climbed into the boat, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed” (Mark 6:50-51).

When the disciples thought they saw a ghost, they despaired, because false spirits create doubts and fear. Fear tends to over-cloud hope. Charles Hodge says, “Fear is the darkroom where negativity is developed.”

On the Gulf Coastline of Texas where we live, the term “storm surge” is in the news again. It means a productive landmass is temporarily overcome by seawater and robbed of normalcy. Storm surges or bad news can arrive at any time, due to weather, a bad health report, or a rumor of war.

The psalmist declared that when he called, God made him “bold and stouthearted” (138:3). He can and will do the same for today, no matter what is in the near future. Take a deep breath and exhale it in prayer, then take courage from the Savior. One of his specialties is climbing into rocking boats and calming storms.

You may contact Cathy Messecar at http://www.cathymessecar.com/

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Never again

We're experiencing rolling black-outs due to Hurricane Rita, and as common, God has pulled me to the blackboard. There are lessons I'm still learning. One of the lessons involves a question I will ask my closest Christian friends, the other is an exaggeration I will try not to use anymore.

The media has done a fine job of portraying the suffering. These last few days in Texas have been some of the hottest we experienced this summer--but it's fall all ready. The killer heat is slaying people, literally. The extremely frail, the ill, young, and old, cannot live through this heavy heat without air conditioning and some way to cool down.

Last evening at our church facilities, we readied a meal before Wednesday night classes. The food was cooked by moving it to four consecutive places, because of the black-outs. Just when the food was prepared and hot (from the fourth ovens), off went the power, so nearly 60 Christians and guests ate hot and steamy chicken spaghetti, veggies and homemade bread in the hot and steamy dark.

Good cheer prevailed, and time after time I heard one person ask another, "How are you? Do you have power?"

This is a question I plan to adopt. It's a question Christian's could ask each other throughout the year. A few Sundays ago, Beverly G. said in Sunday school, "I don't care for that phrase 'plug into God'. Christians are plugged in. The problem arises when we turn off the appliance."

So, in my adopted question, "Do you have power?" I'll really be asking myself and others are you "walking in the light?" are you "recharging through Jesus?"


Now, for the statement I will not be saying anymore. I've seen the devastation caused by hurricanes to homes and businesses. Strewn over miles and marshes are treasures renamed debris. We southern coastal women repeat a cliche about cluttered houses, homes that are structurally sound, but homes that we haven't tidied up in a few days. I've witnessed the suffering of my sisters and seen their sanctuaries spread over treetops and blacktop. I'll steer away from the overkill cliche from now on. When my house isn't as clean as I like, I'll avoid saying, "My house looks like a hurricane hit it."

Saturday, September 24, 2005

We made it

We're safe and all our family is well. At 2:00 PM Saturday, the sun has peeked out. We're only getting local coverage, so we don't know how much damage was done to the folks in the direct path of the storm.

One family member is a police officer and expects to be on duty for several days. Officials want Southeast Texans to stagger their returns. Most Houston schools are closed until Wednesday.

Thank you for your prayers. We're in good shape here, a few limbs down, but all is good.

We had family strewn through the house in odd roosts. At 2:45 AM this morning my birthday-son was in the recliner next to me; I was stretched out on the sofa. The wind and rain Rita-brew were mixing with our hot humid air. Gales began. I reached out and touched my firstborn and reminded him that 35 years ago, I was in a hospital bed and he was in a crib beside me. A nice moment. A genuinely nice son.

When did we flip all those calendar pages? Where did the time go?

Friday, September 23, 2005

10:30-so far all is well

In my home, the TV is rarely on through the day, but of late it's been on almost non-stop because of monitoring Rita.

Of course the reporters cover the human dramas that a storm churns up. Churches, schools, individuals and communities have opened up their facilities and homes to those stranded without gas and with mechanical problems.

"I was a stranger and you took me in." the words of Jesus.

4:08 Central Standard Time

It seems as if Rita is changing her mind, for the moment. One computer model has her going in at Louisana, others still Texas.

My hubby used his straps and chains, for securing 18-wheeler-flatbed loads, and looped them around the rafters in our barns and anchored them to equipment parked inside. He always thinks of inventive ways to help out.

I haven't seen our cows in two days. They know something is coming. There's several creeks on the farm and the farm bridge has three cement culverts tall enough for us to stand up in. Dave's 6'4". We've always thought they'd be a good place to shelter from tornadoes, but their sidekick of rains might prevent using them. We 're surrounded by pine trees and tall oaks, so we don't have the advantage of sighting tornadoes. We have to rely on TV news to let us know one is headed our way.

A tiny lime green tree frog was behind the thermometer on the porch when I was moving everything inside the garage. Sure hated to disturb him.


9:00 PM--Rain started. Gusting winds. Spotted the cows. Had birthday cake with son. With a strong gust of wind, he blew out his candles. My son and I both cried the moment he was born.

Rita is Arriving

Throughout the rest of today and into tomorrow, I 'll be blogging on Hurricane Rita's travel until/if we lose electricity. The forecast at 18 hours before landfall says we'll get 65 winds with gusts to 85. We will be on the clean side of the storm, fewer tornadoes. Already, blue sky is covered by Rita's skirt tails. Where yesterday was a sweltering, no-breeze 102 degrees, the bushes and tall pines are already beginning to sway and Rita has several hundred miles before estimated time of arrival.

All the potted plants, bird houses and such are "hunkering down" in the garage. My larger wind chime I brought indoors and hung it in a double doorway. I thought it might be a good indicator of how much the house is shaking. The house is brick, built in 1960's with a hip roof.

I have a birthday cake in the oven for my 35-year-old son. Today's his big day. He's still moving medical equipment, but is through now and is about 60 miles from our home. He said Interstate 45 is almost deserted.

The other big news is we had pork chops and gravy for lunch today. If worse goes to far worse, at least we had an old southern dish for our final meal.

I'll check in later today...Cathy www.cathymessecar.com

Friday, September 16, 2005

Questions Aid Communication

Recently, my dad, Kenneth, told me an amusing story from his childhood, one I’d not heard before. His family roots are tinged with the red clay of Arkansas. But during the Depression, they moved to different work locations in Texas. His summertime story took place in La Mesa.

My grandfather worked on a pipeline, and his young sons made small change by doing odd jobs in the community. Dad’s younger brother Bob often carried drinking water to the oilfield workers. They’d usually tip him when he approached with a jug of cool water.

Rumor mill said a young boy could make 25 cents at the golf course. My dad, about 9 at the time, had never seen a golf ball or a green. The only “tee” he’d heard of was a Model T. “Birdie” simply meant bird. He didn’t know the rules or game, but he’d heard that spotters at the golf course could earn two bits. He decided to give it a try.

At the course, he approached three men readying to play and asked to be their spotter. They hired him. His job description was laid out in simple terms. “Keep your eye on the ball, son.” They swung their clubs, and daddy ran ahead, fanatically watching where each ball fell.

Enjoying the out of doors, the golfers cajoled and ambled toward the fairway. Just over the rise, my dad eagerly awaited. He’d watched the flight and the landing of each ball. He’d picked them up, and in the middle of the fairway, three balls were lined up in a neat row. The golfers threw up their hands and fired the kid on the spot.

Dad’s experience reminded me of the most common dilemma in relationships: misunderstanding. When one person’s response doesn’t meet the expectations of another, problems arise.

Adept at relationships and teaching, Rabbi Jesus’ actions can be trusted to help clarify communications. Jesus asked questions. Questions often cause rumination, pondering. Unless rhetorical, they are usually answered, and understanding between people is enhanced. Sincere questions also reveal the willingness to instruct and to receive feedback.

One example is when Jesus taught his disciples and a crowd. He asked two questions: “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his own soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Mark 8:36, 37). With questions, he plumed the depths of their hearts and let them know he had answers.

Jesus, the founder and keeper of souls, followed his questions with instruction. “If any man is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels” (vs. 38).

A “do you understand” question aids understanding and shows concern. Opposite attitudes smack of indifference, such as “They’ll eventually catch on” or “They’ll live and learn.”

Questions till thoughts. They turn topsoil. They stir imagination. If one of the golfers had asked young Kenneth if he understood their game, he could have spotted golf balls instead of retrieving them like softballs. Dad’s good-natured telling of the golf faux pas reminded me to better communicate with questions.

Questions, anyone?

Monday, September 12, 2005

Rearing or Raising

God, Parents and Stained Glass

Parenting children is like living in a desert. Sandstorms and beautiful sunsets come with the real estate. Grit and beauty usually arrive on the same day.

Home’s the place where loving, refereeing parents civilize kids. “Raising” and “rearing” can have different definitions. Our family “raised” chickens, and unlike children, they didn’t require much care. We opened the coop in the mornings, and threw out grain.

No need to baby sit hens. Let them fend for themselves. They won the battles with the beetles. Then at night, we locked up the brood so critters didn’t steal them.

There’s a barnyard of difference in “raising” chickens and “rearing” children. With dedicated, watchful parents, children prosper. Homes need mothers and dads standing guard, making their abodes sanctuaries against unwholesome influences. Families aren’t perfect, but they are one of the God-ordained units where goodness can get a toehold.

The family is a schoolroom where one clan under one roof will provide plenty of teachable moments. Successes open doors for celebrating triumphs. Failures provide opportunities for empathy and correction. Wrongdoings occasion forgiveness.

Radio host Joe White says that through families “God is in the business of building stained-glass windows.” The windows are “made from thousands of broken pieces, skillfully picked up and dusted off and soldered together in magnificent murals.”

Erma Bombeck told about her frolicking young son knocking a bubble gum dispencer over. Glass and colored orbs scattered. Many onlookers overheard her say he’d “never see another cartoon the rest of his life” and that he “was going to be making license plates for the state.”

Embarrassed by the attention and scolding, and “in his helpless quest for comfort,” he turned to the one he most trusted, threw his arms around his mother's knees and “held on for dear life.”

It’s comforting to know that God sees the sparrows and our babies. He is looking at the blueprint for every child’s life, and his influence is supreme. One of the best requests parents can make is for God to be their children’s teacher. Then, offer thanksgiving for the job of lab assistant.

Parents, keep handing God the soldering tool. Gorgeous light shines through assembled pieces of colored glass.

“Love is patient, love is kind . . . It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:4, 7).

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Heart Beat

Tonight in our women's Bible class, about 23 women circled up to pray and we held hands. A newcomer was with us, Judy*. A victim of hurricane Katrina, she and her husband, and two children, one a teen and one a pre-teen were "adopted" by our congregation. Our congregation, Conroe Church of Christ, is caring for a total of nine families.

My right hand clasped Judy's * and my left hand linked with a longtime member. At different times during the prayer, I felf both of their heart pulses against my palms.

For me, the experience symbolized what Christianity is all about. Humanity is linked in many ways, but the one that counts the most is the sibling factor in Christ. He is my older brother, the firstborn; I have many brothers and sisters, and Christ wants more family members.

Jesus especially wants me to feel the pulse of my neighbor's life.

*name changed to provide anonymity

Friday, September 02, 2005

Katrina Eyewitness from LSU's student assistant, Bill Martin

The article below was written by Bill Martin a student assistant of the LSU Sports Information Department and explains whats happening in Baton Rouge. This is the link to the original article at tigerbait.com , Mike Scarborough's coverage of LSU's athletics and recruiting http://lsu.rivals.com/ or read it below.

Little did I know what I would be doing following Hurricane Katrina's aftermath but as I type right now, there won't be a more gratifying or more surreal experience I went through tonight. We went up to the office today and held a press conference regarding the postponement of the game and it was the right decision. As the PMAC and Field House are being used as shelters we decided as an office to do everything we could to help the situation.

At first, we were just supposed to make copies of this disaster relief form for all of the people. The copiers will never print a document more important than that. It's weird. Nearly 12 hours ago we were running off copies of game notes for a football game that is now meaningless. We printed the copies and carried them over to the Field House at 6:30 p.m. I wouldn't leave the area for another 8 hours.

On the way back to the PMAC in a cart, it looked like the scene in the movie Outbreak. FEMA officials, U.S. Marshalls, National Guard, and of course the survivors. Black Hawks were carrying in victims who were stranded on roofs. Buses rolled in from N.O. with other survivors. As Michael and I rode back to the PMAC, a lady fell out of her wheelchair and we scrambled to help her up.

We met Coach Miles and Coach Moffiit in the PMAC to see all the survivors and it was the view of a hospital. Stretchers rolled in constantly and for the first time in my life I saw someone die right in front of me. A man rolled in from New Orleans and was badly injured on his head. 5 minutes later he was dead. And that was the scene all night. What did we do, we started hauling in supplies. And thousands of boxes of supplies. The CDC from Atlanta arrived directing us what to do.

One of the U.S. Marshalls was on hand so the supplies could not become loot. I asked him what his primary job was. He serves on the committee of counter terrorism, but once he saw of the disaster, he donated his forces to come help. He said the death toll could be nearing 10,000. It was sickening to hear that.

After unloading supplies, I started putting together baby cribs and then IV poles. Several of our fball players and Big Baby and Tasmin Mitchell helped us. At the same time, families and people strolled in. Mothers were giving birth in the locker rooms. The auxiliary gym "Dungeon" was being used as a morgue. I couldn't take myself down there to see it.

I worked from 8 pm until 2:45 am. Before I left three more buses rolled in and they were almost out of room. People were standing outside, the lowest of the low from NO. The smells, the sights were hard to take.

A man lying down on a cot asked me to come see him. He said,"I just need someone to talk to, to tell my story because I have nobody and nothing left. He turned out to be a retired military veteran. His story was what everybody was saying. He thought he survived the worst, woke up this morning and the levees broke. Within minutes water rushed into his house. He climbed to the attic, smashed his way through the roof and sat there for hours. He was completely sunburned and exhausted. Nearly 12 hours later a chopper rescued him and here he was.

We finished the night hauling boxes of body bags and more were on the way. As we left, a man was strolled in on a stretcher and scarily enough he suffered gunshots. The paramedic said he was shot several times because a looter or a convict needed his boat and he wouldn't give it to him. Another man with him said it was "an uncivilized society no better than Iraq down there right now." A few minutes later he was unconcious and later pronounced dead. I then left as they were strolling a 3 year old kid in on a stretcher. I couldn't take it anymore.

That was the scene at the PMAC and it gives me a new perspective on things. For those of you who I haven't been able to get in touch with because of phone service, I pray you are safe. Send me an email to let me know. God bless.

Bill MartinLSU Sports Information

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Katrina Notes

Katrina Notes

Two statements coming from media coverage of hurricane Katrina’s aftermath have stayed with me: “We have each other” and “If you know God, pray. . .”

Ann and Vernon’s Gulfport, MS longtime home was leveled. They summed up their losses as significant, but not devastating by saying to NBC’s Lester Holt, “We have each other.” Many now identify with their mantra.

Mansions and mobile homes, bicycles and Chevys, clothing and canned goods are submerged in the toxic soup along the south east Gulf Coast. Louisiana’s governor estimates that at least 500,000 homes were destroyed in her home state. Alabama and Mississippi also carry dismal tallies.

The second statement is from Linda, interviewed by Houston’s channel 2 Phil Archer. On Sunday, Linda’s husband stayed behind to protect their house, and she hasn’t heard from him since. She pled with viewers, “If you know God, pray for my husband.”

In the Bible, Job’s story is one with which sufferers can identify. Job’s disaster-saga included foreign invasion and forces of nature. His sons and daughters, servants and cattle were gone. Finally, he became so ill he was near death.

Job’s life was chronicled for such a time as this. After his immense loss, friends came to commiserate with him. They may not have given him the best theological answers, but at least they had “each other.”

Throughout Job’s misery and his later gaining back more than he lost, he was getting to “know God.” One time, God posed rhetorical questions to Job from a storm. God asked were you there when I “laid the earth’s foundation” (38:4), or if Job had ever “entered the storehouses of the snow (vs. 22).

God further asked, “Can you bind the beautiful Pleiades? Can you loose the cords of Orion?” (vs. 31). “Who provides food for the raven when its young cry out to God and wander about for lack of food?” (vs. 41).

After Creator God, itemized his resume, Job said, “My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you” (42:5). Throughout Job’s life, God brought him to a better understanding of divine care.

Because of Katrina’s wind and water baptism, Job’s misery is multiplied by tens of thousands in the southern United States. Hurricane victim Linda advised, “If you know God, pray . . .”

Ann and Vernon reiterated what many are saying and reminded the world that family is precious. Grieving the loss of a house is not the same as mourning for friends or family. Pray and cherish, keen reminders that human suffering can improve as long as “we have each other.”

To contact Cathy visit http://www.cathymessecar.com/