Obsessive?  I don’t think so.

Yesterday I had a small cosmetic surgical procedure.  It was nothing much, although I did count 142 tiles in the office ceiling.  The most painful part of such a trip is always the sting of the shot.  It was followed by snipping with some little razor-like scissors, and the nice burning sensation of cauterization.  So I walked around the rest of the day with a small-but-noticeable black burned spot on my face.  There were various meetings and encounters throughout the day, and so I probably interacted with a couple of hundred people.  Interestingly, absolutely no adult made a single comment about my face.  Surely they noticed?  I notice such things!  If a woman’s mascara runs, I notice.  If a man has food on his face or between his teeth, I notice. 

Obsessive-Compulsive? 

But, it is true that I just do not say anything.  Such is the propriety and good manners of being civil.  But I think about it.  And I wonder what others think about this big, black hole in my face?  My wife says I’m being silly, that it is just a tiny little spot.  Yeah?  I can only imagine all the conversations in the hallways and behind my back about the now disgusting nature of my appearance. 

Paranoid?

I drove the bus last night, to take a group of kids home from church.  As they were filing onto the vehicle, all were looking at my face. 
“What happened?”
“Do you have cancer?”
“Man, that looks gross.”

Now, that’s the way it ought to be.  I felt better.

Tonight I watched a fine movie, Signs, starring Mel Gibson. Gibson plays a former pastor who has walked away from the church and his faith because his wife died in an auto accident. He claims to no longer believe in God, and that life is therefore without mercy or the intervention of the divine. If there were a God, especially the Christian God of love and mercy, then surely his wife would have been spared! Yet, as the movie unfolds, glimpses are give to the struggle really taking place in the soul of this former minister. In reality, he is very angry with God. At a particularly trying moment, he actually looks up to Heaven and proclaims, "I hate you."

On the surface, the movie is a science fiction thriller about an invasion of aliens. Gibson and his family are within the line of sight. It seems rather obvious that the aliens are clearly a vehicle of the movie to make the statement that, sometimes, matters we consider with skepticism and disbelief may actually prove to be true. Flying saucers may actually be real, and by not-so-subtle inference, so may be God! His son has a book about space aliens that Gibson scoffs about. It ends up being a reliable guide. The parallel to the Bible is rather obvious. The aliens mount their invasion. Reminiscent to War Of The Worlds, in which the aliens are killed off by cold weather, in this movie the aliens are killed off by the acid-like effect of water.

Gibson is restored to faith by a miraculous event. His son has an asthma attack, in which his lungs close up and he is unable to breathe. With his son in such a precarious state, the father continues his anger toward God. The boy is picked up by an alien. The alien sprays poison gas into his face in an attempt to kill. However, the boy does not breathe the gas because of his condition. Gibson is able to seize his son, and resuscitate him. He considers the matter to be a miracle, an affirmation of faith in a higher power, and thus returns to the ministry.

What do I think? All of us can find reason to be angry with God, if we choose. Bad things happen to all, and not in equal measure. You cannot convince me that Christians intentionally have targeted toward themselves more singularly miraculous and happy things in life than non-Christians. How life treats humanity seems to me quite an impersonal matter. Some people have a lot of happy experiences in life, and some have a lot of crappy experiences in life. That's just the way life shakes out. So, if you are angry with God and insisting that He cater to your demands in order for you to believe and serve, then I think you are likely to continue to be sorely disappointed.

God does not serve you.
This is not a dance in which you lead.
Perhaps you can manipulate some people with your anger. But not God.

The crisis of anger towards God is an important spiritual event, a journey if you prefer. I think it is important for everybody to go through this experience. You do yourself and God no favors by avoidance or too ready explanation. I think it best to let the matter linger a bit, without the false drugs of shallow platitudes and easy religion. It is a deep and dark valley. I've been there, and perhaps I will be there again.

How do you get through it, and emerge with a healthy relationship with God? For sure, I think, we must stop this silly insistence that God must respond to our demands, and behave according to our understanding and dictates. Equally important, you and I must grasp the essence of our part in this human/divine connection. It is faith. Faith in God is a wonderful discovery. But, by it's very nature, it does not and cannot demand irrefutable proof. I cannot prove God or anything about God. Every argument of logic has a valid alternative. More than believe, I trust. And such is The Essential.

Unlike the erroneous lesson learned by Gibson's character in the movie, if your faith hinges upon a singular miraculous event in life, then I think you are on thin ice. A faith that can be singularly gained can be singularly lost.

So, it is a good movie. It dares to do more than entertain. And it cause one to think about what I consider to be the most important matter of life and eternity, faith in God.

The light was on in the baptistry, and as I opened the door, there dangled the preacher from a homemade noose. Dang it, I guess we'll have to cancel services for the day.

And so he has embarked upon adulthood. The future is before him, huge and mysterious. He's got it all figured out: 20 years in the military, followed by a second career in law enforcement. He will let the Marines pay for his College education. Oh, and he will find somewhere to settle down more exciting than this place! He assures me he will do a lot of things differently than myself. And, I wish him well. It must be nice to be 18-years-old and have life by the tail!

Once I had three little kids. With this event it is official, they are all gone, replaced by adults. I look back and see so much I could have done differently and better. And I wonder how they turned out so well. Brock has grown into a quiet and assured person with an independent streak. This is true with his apparel for graduation- jeans and sneakers. I would have insisted upon otherwise, had I known. There is still some Little Boy in him. I hope it stays.

I feel proud.

Regretfully I now withdraw my name from consideration for the office of the President of the United States of America.  If nominated I will not accept, if elected I will not serve.  I am grateful for the enthusiastic support of those across this fair land, and will continue to advocate for a government that places priority upon service and not upon being served. 

It is true that several rumors, innuendo, and hints of personal improprieties have arisen from various sources since my original announcement.  I will not justify these scandalous accusations with specific address.  Yes, there may exist a few photos that appear to give dubious testimony to my activities and associations.  Receipts traceable to my bank accounts may cause others to question my propriety in personal social activities.  And there is the matter of what appears to be an embarrassing video.  Even as I haste to admit guilt to nothing, surely my withdrawal from consideration will put an end to any pursuits on the part of my political detractors.  Besides, do not we all have a few skeletons in our closets?  These insignificant matters should not diminish my abilities to serve. 

Always will I cherish your confidence.  Your contributions will be used to eliminate accumulated campaign debt, and you can trust me when I say that none of said money will be used to fund my upcoming trip to Tahiti- although McCain-Feingold does not prohibit such.  You can trust me.

 

I have decided to set aside my own personal agenda for the greater good. Therefore, should either major party deem it to be proper, I will accept nomination for President of the United States of America. And if elected, I promise to serve to the very best of my ability.

My 10 Point Platform:

(1) Universal free trade. No limits. No tariffs. And you either play fair, or we will pick up our toys and go home.

(2) All American troops come home. Our military will leave you alone. And you had best leave us alone, or you will have Hell to pay.

(3) Repeal of federal income tax. Across-the-board flat tax of 5%. No exceptions- nobody too poor, nobody too rich to pay.

(4) Limited social programs. Let the churches and charities do their jobs.

(5) Government gets out of the marrying business. Who and how you marry is your business.

(6) Return of citizen legislature. Meet only three months out of the year. Across-the-board term limits. No exceptions.

(7) School vouchers, allowing absolute freedom of choice.

(8) Term limits for federal judges. Term limits for Supreme Court.

(9) Drill for oil in ANWAR, along both coasts. New refineries.

(10) No border fence. English as the official language.

My Cabinet:

Vice President - Charlize Theron. No legislative responsibilities. No delegated power. But I'd sure rather look at her than Dick Cheney.

Secretary Of State - Ron Paul

Attorney General - Roy Barnes. Really bad ex-governor of my state of residence. But he is proving to be a heck of a lawyer. I like a guy who doesn't quit.

Secretary Of Labor - Luisa Romano. She is the best waittress at the local Waffle House. This woman has a work ethic and smile that you will not believe.

Secretary of Education - Ms. White, my 3rd Grade Teacher. She washed my mouth out with soap. I'd like to see her make such a national policy.

Secretary of Treasury - My wife. Why not? She can and does balance a budget, which is more than most current politicians can claim.

Some Personal Policies:

(1) Television Reality Show modeled after The Osborn's or The Truman Show, in which a camera accompanies the president at all times. And I do me, all times.

(2) The President's Sermon. I will preach a sermon every Sunday morning at 8:00, which will still give all Americans time to make it to Sunday School.

(3) Every day I will say "I do not know" to some question from the media.

(4) Presidential 40-hour work week. Why not? An important job of the American government is to LEAVE THE AMERICAN PEOPLE ALONE! I'll take long lunch hours, play lots of golf, and vacation in exotic places. And I'll not answer the phone after 5 p.m.

I have always been impressed with McDonald’s.  They know how to do fast food right.  I can actually understand the order taker in the speaker phone!  McDonald’s is top-of-the-line, the fast food equivalent to Walmart in retail and QuikTrip to convenience stores.  However, my faith was severely shaken with the most recent trip.  I ordered a couple of double-cheeseburgers from the Dollar Menu- another incomparable feature of McDonald’s- and asked as usual for extra pickles.  That is how I like my burgers, plus it always assures that my order will be freshly made.  Well, when it was time to pay, I noticed right away that I was charged 30 cents extra, per sandwich!  Can you believe that- 30 cents for pickles?  I expressed my incredulity, but got nowhere since the Afghani-Bangladeshi cashier struggled to understand the word “pickle” and therefore had no idea the meaning of the word “incredulous” .  I recalled the old commercial jingle, “Hold the pickles, hold the lettuce- special orders don’t upset us…” and I was sure it included something about no charge for extra condiments.  Reluctantly I ponied up the 60-cents and sat down to watch my granddaughter play.  It was an amazing play area, spotless, huge, air-conditioned.  Did I tell you that McDonald’s also offers the best play areas for kids?  It’s probably worth paying a little extra for pickles. 

 

Now, if they start charging for refills of Diet Coke, then I ‘m writing the corporate board.  It will be all-our war, and I’ll bring them to their knees.

It is my day off, and I'm sitting in the office awaiting the delivery of a refrigerator.  I'm not sure the proper definition of "wanting to be somewhere else" but I'm pretty sure this gets close.

Now it is 15 minutes later.  Gramm stopped by.  He's been retired from General Motors for about 20 years and likes to stop in to talk politics.  He's a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat and big-time Clinton fan.  You can imagine our conversations, but they are all good-natured.  Gramm cannot hear very well.  More precisely, he hears what he wants to hear.  He asked me what I thought of the earthquake in China, which lead to his opinions on the ethnic diversity of our area.  To Gramm, everyone of Asian origin is a "Chinese".  He thinks maybe we should lock 'em all up, like they did the Chinese before World War II.  I reminded him those were people from Japan.  He did not hear me.

So, I sure wish they would hurry up and deliver the refrigerator.  It is not a side-by-side, and with no ice maker.  It was picked out by Gramm.  "Plain, like me!" he boasts.

On our wedding day, my bride was quite nervous.  Can you blame her?  Look what she was getting into, and with whom.  I'm just glad she did not have a good set of tennis shoes, or I would have never been able to catch her and bring her back.  Anyhow, in her frazzled state she had a hard time remembering the different places to position herself on the platform.  The minister conducting the ceremony was quite sympathetic.  After all, look what she was getting into, and with whom.  He expressed condolences and then gave simple advice to help her to get through the day. 

"When you enter the church, keep focused upon the aisle.  Think to yourself: 'Aisle! Aisle! Aisle!'"
"When you get to the front, focus upon the altar.  Think to yourself: 'Altar! Altar! Altar!"
"Finally, before the exchanging of vows will be a hymn.  Think to yourself: 'Hymn! Hymn! Hymn!'"

It worked beautifully.  She looked amazing on that day.  But several people were surprised to hear her muttering, as she approached the front of the church, "...aisle, altar, hymn..., ...aisle, altar, hymn..., ...aisle, altar, hymn..."

And, so has been her mantra for 26 years of marriage.

On Saturday, my oldest daughter graduated with a Bachelor of Arts from the University of West Georgia.  When ceremonies concluded, she gave me a quaint little hug and smile.  Then she and her mom grabbed one another with with a marathon hug and wept profusely.  And I was thinking- Hey, how about a little more of that for me?

I'm recognizing in my daughter a person of strength and special character.  Her final Semester consisted of 21 credit hours of upper-level classes, and she made straight A's!  I have a College degree, but I struggled to make decent grades in PE and Basket Weaving.  This girl worked hard with her studies.  Such never came easy, but she exhibited a tenacity and determination to succeed that made me doubly proud.  In College she faced her doubts and challenges with a characteristic refusal to give in.

So, indulge me as I tell a little more about my daughter who is also a hero of mine.  She is a pretty girl.  But she is not too full of herself.  And friends mean the world to her.  She is very good at being a friend, and people who connect with her tend to stay connected.  As I visited with them at her apartment, I found them all to be characteristically nice and genuine, easy with talk and sincere about life.  Just like my daughter.  And as I watched the special day unfold, it crystallized that she is so far ahead of me at the same stage of life.  I was a bit more cocky and had matters more planned out.  But she treats others with such great respect.  She values people, and they know it.  And that is why so many good people are drawn to her.  Me?  I am just now entering into some resemblance of maturity in how to truly value others and treat them with respect. 

Krystal is not as religious and myself.  At her age I was quite connected with church and being Baptist.  Her church involvement has, at best, been sporadic through College.  But that does not much bother me.  Why?  I recognize spiritual maturity that is moving along at a fine pace.  She believes.  And, she is a person of prayer.  I have not doubt that the outward elements of religion, which I do consider to be important, will come along according to God's timing.



I want to thank Krystal's mom and my wife, Debbie.  She is an unassuming and gentle person, which greatly admire in her.  And Krystal is the product of her amazing job as a mother.  I think my kids have but little idea how blessed they are to be connected to this woman.  Constantly she works, sacrifices, and even does a bit of scheming and manipulating for their benefit.  Often I am dragged along with the latest effort, with agreement but not nearly the energy of my spouse.  She is Krystal's best friend.  And my daughter, no longer a girl but now a full-fledged woman, will continue to grow in personal respect and outward reflection of her amazing mother.

The Graduation itself was a rather simple ceremony.  Most of her friends, who started College at the same time as she, were observers because they still have a year to go.  The President of the school is of Lebanese lineage, and proved to be an interesting personality.  The speaker was a trial lawyer.  He did something likely to be uncharacteristic of his profession- he made a promise, to keep it short and to-the-point- and kept his word.  Good for him.

Here is my favorite picture:

My teenage daughter thinks that surely I am the most stupid person upon this earth, even surpassing the legendary dimwit status of her dad. 

Her list of my imperfections is huge.  I...
*...have no discernment of personality, repeatedly misjudging the quality of her friends
*...am an expert at hindering the pursuit of a good time
*...have the irritating insistence of forcing my morals and religion down her throat
*...repeatedly compel her to hang out with our boring family

As soon as she is able, she will move from this hell-hole.  This has been her promise several times.  And should she ever dare to have children, they will be raised with a higher degree of wisdom which will include much greater degrees of freedom and fun.  Add to these character deficits the inarguable facts that I am boring, old-fashioned, un-cool, and severely lacking in mental facilities.  I go by the name of Mom, most often anything but a term of endearment.

I simply sigh, and trudge on, without fanfare.  It was not so long ago that I was remarkably like her- brash, opinionated, mouthy, and very sure that I could do a better job.  My mom never wore the latest of fashion, and always drove an old car.  And she and dad were hopelessly embarrassing.

My daughter, I love you, but sometimes I just do not like you.  I think this may be the one thing we have in common at this stage of life.  And I am determined to make it through this challenge.  You are a great teen, as much as there could possible exist such a creature.  And one day you will be a fine woman.  Then we will be friends.  But, alas, right now my job involves a more important task than to be your pal. 

I wish you could work with me as we travel down this untested road.  I’ve been there, and I know how tough and dangerous and unpredictable it can be.  Remember, but a few years ago, I was You.

*Your latest stinging assault of words hit the heart more than I pretended.
*It bothers me more than you think that I cannot, or will not, enable you to keep up with the material appearances of your more progressive and popular friends/peers.
*I would treasure a simple and sincere conversation, over a cup of coffee or a coke.

This is a tough job and you are not aware of how uncomfortable I find myself.  For many reasons you are a great challenge.  Perhaps genetics and surely environment converge to make you my particular parenting enigma.  Even more so, I have my own issues.  Life has not always treated me so gently.  And I would surely like to be a more perfect Mom.  It is not happening, but I continue to try.

Here I am.  I’m Mom.  I know that sometimes I disappoint you.  I understand it quite well.  But here is the most important thing- something you can always count upon, and you have heard it ten thousand times. 
When you bumped your toe and skinned your knee…
When you awakened from a bad dream to crawl into my bed… 
When you simply found yourself crying for no apparent reason… 
When your first boyfriend no longer seemed to care… 
When it seemed no one else understood, or cared…

I’m your Mom.  
I love you.

It has been my policy, from the beginning, to not use designated clergy parking.  Often the hospitals provide nice, convenient spaces close to the entrance with big “Reserved For Clergy” signs.  It is a nice gesture on the part of the business, but just seems to me unnecessary.  Besides, we have too many fat and out-of-shape preachers who need to park in the far away parking lots and walk to their destinations, and avoid the elevators along the way.  And I feel the same about all the spots in the hospital parking decks designated for physicians.  Even when the deck is full, there will often be a dozen or more unused physician spaces.  As I drive to the top to find a place to park, it occurs to me that of all people, a doctor would surely see the value of a little extra walking.  But this is my own little campaign, and I do not expect you to join or even understand.

Recently I pulled into the back of a parking lot, and proceeded to walk toward the entrance.  Near the front a lady pulled her Cadillac into a clergy spot.  Emblazoned upon the side and bumper was Mary Kay.  I met her as she was getting out, and cheerily asked, “What church do you pastor?”  She did not reply that she was Assistant Minister at the Church Of The Mary Kay.  Instead, she said she could not find a parking space and was forced to park up front.  I told her that I understood, that I was a minister and that I unfairly took her space in the back of the parking lot.  She was not amused.

If  you would like to help in the campaign to replace all clergy parking signs with pink signs proclaiming “Reserved For Blue-Eyed Emus & Mary Kay”, then send me a t-Mail.  Surely it would be a tax-deductible cause?

Skylar and I picked strawberries today.  It was a long drive out into the country, and usually I can count on her to fall asleep while in the car, but this time she kept chattering with excitement about the upcoming activity.  It is a huge and beautiful field, and many of us fear that the encroaching suburbs will one day replace it with cookie-cutter houses and streets with cute little strawberry names.  And that would be a shame, because grandpa's and little girls would lose out on a special time.

And, so we picked strawberries.  Let me be honest- I gathered strawberries into the bucket - she managed to take at least one bite out of every fruit she picked.  In conclusion, she had red juice running from head to toe, with the majority around her face.  I told the guy at the pay station that it only appears that she has eaten some of their produce.  He simply laughed.  And with that I understand the owners are good people who would rather plant strawberries for little girls to pick than to build condos.  Thank God for such people.

We brought home two gallons.  And soon I had a stomach ache.  How can you have an aching belly and still have a smile upon your face?

May 1 is the annual National Day Of Prayer.  My church, like many, is committed to interceding for the needs of our great and troubled nation on this day.  We have conducted this occasion in many ways in the past, including organized assemblies and detailed prayer lists.  This time we have simply encouraged one another to set aside significant time(s) to pray, and left the details up to the individuals.  Such is in line with “the priesthood of the believer”, a significant doctrine of our church.

Last night at our Midweek Prayer Service, I asked the small group who was gathered to put together a list of some specific ways to pray for our nation.  Here’s the list:

(1) Wars in Afghanistan & Iraq
(2) Churches
(3) Political Representatives – federal, state, local
(4) Firemen & Policemen
(5) Economy
(6) Families
(7) Those In Positions Of Authority
(8) Those Losing Homes & Jobs
(9) The Elderly
(10) Wisdom & Discernment Of The People
(11) For The Department Of Transportation to do something about the dangerous condition of Davenport Road

Some thoughts about the list:

*No one is suggesting we pray for victory in these wars- such would be rather presumptive.  Our church members, as I think are most Americans, are quite weary of this war and saddened more than angered by the mounting death tolls.  We are praying for an end to war.

*Our Wednesday night group is mainly older people, I think because the younger members are either working in other areas of the church at the moment, or in the middle of a busy week of work and activity and think they cannot spare the time for midweek church.  That is too bad, because in my opinion, when you are too busy to pray then you are too busy.  Anyhow, several of these older members are Yellow-Dog-Democrats.  Still, they find it important to pray regularly for our Republican Administration, Governor, Senators, Congressman, etc.  Indeed, prayer transcends politics.

*#11 is interesting.  I try diligently to encourage our people to move beyond seeing intercessory prayer as basically a time to pray for the sick!  So I make a habit every meeting to ask for requests for other matters.  And this time I was specifically requesting prayers for our country.  So when the lady voiced her request, at first I was stunned into a moment of silence.   It just came out of left field, not germane to the current issue.  It is an important matter- her driveway empties onto a semi-blind curve, so for her safety something needs to be done.  But it seems an example for all of how difficult we find it to move beyond ourselves and our own immediate needs when we pray.

NDP 2008 – from the Florida Prayer Network, a detailed and helpful prayer guide.  I notice at least one mistake in their list of federal leaders- can you find it?
Lady G has a fine post on this subject.

Ultimately, like most things that are important, prayer needs to be something we do.  Those of us in churches are sometimes more involved with planning and studying than the actual doing. 
Prayer- Just Do It!

05.01.08 (11:10 am)   [edit]

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