91 days and counting . . .
Did I tell you that we're getting a Starbucks - just 100 yards from my office doorstep?
I saw one of the workmen out there this morning, and I pulled to ask him when I could expect to walk over for my first cappuccino. He said, "Around October 1. So . . .
91 Days till the grand opening!!!!!!!
Just thought you'd want to know.
Give us this day our daily bread
Several years ago, our small church decided that we couldn't possible do Bible School in the rather traditional manner - 3 hours for a week (or more - I remember back in the days - aw, never mind). Besides, we didn't care all that much for the literature that was out there for Bible Schools. So, we settled on a scheme, and it has worked for us.
We take on the kiddos for most of the day - 6 hours or more - but we do this five different days during the summer. Usually, it is more or less every other Tuesday. We do our craft projects and have our bible lessons in the morning, some kind of service project, and then we take a trip to someplace which has a connection to our lesson for the day.
This summer, we determined to walk our boys and girls through the seasons of the Christian calendar - Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Holy Week/Easter, and Pentecost. The first week we made preparation - which really is the focus of Advent. Its the first time we didn't take the kids anywhere, and they actually handled that little change quite well. The second week, we looked at Christmas and Epiphany in one setting. For the Christmas part of the lesson, they delivered toiletry bags that they had made to the Salvation Army for those kiddos who would be attending camp later this summer. Then in the afternoon, the made a trip to a lighthouse in a nearby city - emphasis on the light coming into our world (epiphany).
Today was our study of Lent. We had the children decorate small mirrors (during Lent, we take a good look at ourselves in preparation for Easter), and then we had our lesson. After the lesson, we made a trip to our local soup kitchen, and the children served those who eat lunch there everyday. This wasn't our first exposure to the Soup Kitchen (Our Daily Bread) - we helped them raise the funds about five years ago that allowed them to move into a new, more adequate facility.
Our children were superb. They behaved themselves admirably, and were true servants of our Christ - who said, "I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat." We saw people who are homeless. We saw people who don't have very much at all. We saw people who deal with disabilities and even mental illness. Our boys and girls saw things they don't see very often, and I pray it was a life-changing event for them.
I started adding up the numbers - Enid has about 43,000 in our city, and we fed around 200 this morning. That is nearly half of one percent of the people who live in our town - who don't have enough work to pay for the food they need. That's too many. Our society must do more to deal with hunger and homelessness.
All of us must do more.
Just what I needed on Monday . . .
There's a lot of wierd and fun stuff out there on the net. One of my new friends found this website, that lets you take an IQ test, and so I did. If you don't mind, I'll keep my results to myself. Anyway, you can see where your mind is at
http://www.blogthings.com/quickanddirtyiqtest/.
Listed on the same page was another test. You will enjoy this one -
http://www.blogthings.com/howsinfulareyouquiz/.
I won't share my results from this one, either.
This morning, saw my physician for the annual physical. I heard several times his most often quoted statement to me - "Dr. Dunn, we often associate some of these things with maturity!!"
Oh, well - Monday . . .
Arid and dry . . . for now
Writing requires many things, not the least of which is inspiration. For me, the inspiritation usually comes in the form of observations that cause me to ponder for a moment, and then ponder in greater depth.
Things get in the way of writing. I have wanted to spend some time writing here, in my new blog, but something important got in the way - my sermon for tomorrow.
I have been dreading this sermon for weeks. Every since I noticed that the story of Abraham's intended sacrifice of Isaac would be my subject matter, I have dreaded this week. And it proved to be very much a difficult experience - birthing this baby. My personal feelings - it is a story filled with horror and terror, and thus it is a horrible and terrible story. I really hate it.
So, this week, my writing of the sermon pulled me away from the blog. Not because I didn't want to write - but my focus on the sermon produced spiritual myopathy. Because of the importance of this sermon, and the largeness of it, I couldn't focus on anything else, and because of the terribleness of the sermon material, there wasn't really anything else in me for the last several days, anyway.
Like being in a blogger's desert - camped in an oasis full of cacti.
Hodgepodge
Well, that could have had a better title.
The weekly life of a pastor is interesting - most weeks. Some weeks it is trying, and then other weeks, it just seems like another week.
The early part of this week had one looming thought - my sermon material for this Sunday is the intended sacrafice of Isaac by Abraham. This is an awful story. Too many questions - too few answers. Then last night, I was called to the hospital to visit one of our church members who had become ill. Then this evening, I watched two different Little League baseball games from the stands. The cycle of life - that's what's going through my head. Kind of a hodgepodge.
This cycle of life, this week, is punctuated by the sermon material. A pastor never gets very far from the sermon, you know.
A long day . . . more later.
A non a moose ?????
Those who know me best know that I love words. One of my friends at the church refers to me as the "walking thesaurus."
More or less (and just what does that phrase mean??), I use the language correctly. But I like to play with the language as well. I like to make up words, to use colloquialisms (I had to look that one up to see how many "l's" there were), and to study etymology.
I started thinking about that word - anonymous. Here's the way my mind works. Break the word down with me. A non a moose. Isn't it in French that the word "non" means "not?" And we know what a moose is. Moose (should the plural be "meese?") are rather solitary members of the "deer" family. Male moose are extremely solitary - after they are weaned and sent away from mama, they only encounter other males to fight for breeding rights with the famales (which is pretty much the only time they encounter the females). So, if we put the word back together, it would mean "not a moose." Well, that actually doesn't work for my purpose today, so I turn it around - "I am not a moose, so why would I want to remain anonymous (a non a moose).
You can actually arrive at pretty much the same conclusion by using Webster. "anon" - immediately, or soon, or presently. "Mousse" - the French for "really good pudding". So, "anon a mousse" would really mean "more or less, right now I'm no more than pudding." Well, I don't want to be thought of that way, either.
A week ago, I started this blog, and suggested that I might remain anonymous for a while. I had some concerns that I might not have the freedom to say what I wanted to say - in a written context. I am somewhat obligated by my position to be rather proper in my job, and certainly in the pulpit. But this is a different medium. Here, I intend to say what I want. Those who come here will do so because they want. So, enough of the anonymity!! Out of my proverbial literary closet I come. You can tell your friends, your relatives, even your enemies - Sojourning Pilgrim is here to stay.
By the way, I changed the marquee at the church this morning to read - "Our pews are comfy - come take a nap this Sunday!!"
The synergy of networking
So, Enid is hosting the Group Publishing Workcamp this week. Habitat has two work crews painting the inside and outside of one of our homes. 12 youth age kiddos have paid some significant bucks to come do a little mission work in our town for a week.
Why doesn't more of this go on?
I have a theory. It's a theory that ought to work most effectively for people who are active in a local church. My theory is that everybody needs a volunteer job - for the average church person, they should have two jobs - one inside the church (doing things specifically for the local church), and one outside the church (doing things for people who are not yet a part of that local church, on behalf of their church). So, average Joe church member might volunteer to be a part of the yard maintenance rotation for his church, but also to coordinate the annual mission trip.
Last Saturday we had a church garage sale. I think 20 or more of our folks participated in actually running the show. We had a blast, and we made a little money in the process. It really was like an all day picnic - we got to fellowship with one another, and we were privileged to see the Christian gifts of other church members in action.
Why doesn't more of this go on??
100 yards away
I think I'm going to need a raise.
I look to the south out of my office window. I can watch them as they work. The workmen I've spoken to (I go over occasionally to try to hurry them up) say that it will open around November.
We're getting a Starbucks. Yippee!!!!!!!!!!
100 yards from my doorstep. I'm thinking about printing new business cards, listing their telephone number as another place people can look for me.
Do you think they'd give me a discount if I offer to serve as their "chaplain in residence?" Will they let me run a tab?
Well, church is about to start. More later . . .
Happy Father's Day!!
Stopping before you run into the tornado
Thursday is supposed to be my day off. That hasn't happened with any regularity for quite some time now, but yesterday, I'd had enough, called one of my friends, and we left town at 5:00 pm, boat in tow. A quick stop for barbeque, another stop for minnows, and we were on the water @ 6.
On the way, my friend pointed out the farm residence of one of his friends/fellow employees. Aptly named "Fat Boy Drive." I'd seen it before, and had already made a mental note of his location. I casually know his friend.
Set out six jug lines, and then started looking for the fish. There were a few clouds to our north. We didn't have any luck finding the fish from a trolling perspective, so we headed to the west end of the lake to cast our luck against the shore. Nothing. Peter and crew would have chuckled. We kept looking for Jesus, to tell us where to drop our worm, but to no avail. The clouds are growing.
It was approaching 8:00, and we'd had enough of messing around. So, we headed for the dam. I looked up, and the clouds were starting to look like the night before - billowing, but from the underside - like they were filling up with moisture - fast!!! Still, there were fish to catch . . .
We worked the dam for about 30 minutes, and I caught my first fish. Bream - not bad. Sometimes on this lake, you can catch 15 - 20 of these tasty little things when they start biting, and when you know what they are biting on. So we kept it, and still, the clouds were building. Now a thunder clap, and lightening in the distance. But it was in the distance . . .
On the next thunder clap, the only other boat on the lake packed up, and headed for shore, in a hurry. We fished about 5 more minutes, then pulled the jug lines, and headed in. It was nine, and things looked dicey back toward our home town. We threw the lone catch back for another day.
We noticed the wind right away. Decision time - north or east - which would provide the calmer travel. We opted for the east, which, by the way, would take us past Fat Boy Drive.
The problem with the eastern route was that the wind was out of the north, and it was blowing the boat a good bit. Then the rain started. We're out in the middle of nowhere - 11 miles until we turn north. We start noticing some leaves and small limbs in the road every now and then . . .
We turned north. Slowed to 30 mph, and the wipers are on full. I can still see about 75 yards in front of the truck, especially when the lightening illumines things. No problem with encountering other travelers . . . We're seeing more limbs, and then the occasional part of a tree.
So, we opted for a visit at Fat Boy Drive. They were home - the light on the front porch came on. Their satellite had gone out, so no TV, but the radio told them that there were reports of a tornado, roughly 5 miles north of them.
We stayed about 10 minutes - long enough to let the tornado get out of the way. It had already done its damage in front of us - we had to weave around many a tree for the next 10 miles or so.
The lesson - always stop at Fat Boy Drive before you run into the tornado. Life's just easier that way.
And again, God is great, Sabu!!
OGE needs this kind of power
Did you notice the storm last night as it rolled through town. My daughter had just walked in the door, and I could hear things building outside. So I walked out into the front yard to see what God was up to. WOW!!!!!!!!
The first thing that struck me was the wind. I had seen the radar just minutes before, and had commented that, while the general pattern of the storm movement was from the west, it looked like there was some indication that what was going to hit us would have more of a northerly flow. That's exactly what happened. After the wind, the lightening. Massive, far-reaching lightening. The lightening illumined the clouds - thick, billowing clouds. Rain soaked clouds. They didn't wait long - my rain guage registered 8/10 of an inch this morning. We got almost all of it in about 10 minutes.
God is great, Sabu.
for Dad
after seven weeks in heaven
I still hear the fear in your voice
it had more to do with the act of dying as it did with
the result
You didn’t want to be abandoned
and I hurt so very much that I left you there.
You were entering unknown territory -
we all die alone.
They met you there – your mother, and your brother
you saw them, and you called their names.
I hope you know that helps me, when I start to think
too much . . .
Have you watched as I have wept – every friday night
in loss and loneliness
and a hopelessness I could not have imagined
I do not know what to do with my feelings when they come
I only know that I want to do more
and that I want to
share
and that I want
you
And then, the calendar says “Father’s Day”
I hope you know
I don’t know what to do with that
either . . .
Father’s Day
it’s been seven weeks
and I started wondering if
you think of us at all
now that you’re there
in heaven
There’s part of me that thinks so
and part of me that doesn’t
To be with Jesus
I wouldn’t blame you if you never
thought of us
at all
ever
again
I wanted you to know – this Father’s day
that your memory now comes with tears
every time
tears of gratitude, and happy days
and things I learned from
my best teacher
my first teacher
who was my friend
as well . . .
and I find myself wishing
you were here
to laugh with
to talk to
to argue with
and
to love
And so it begins . . .
I set a goal for this year to begin blogging. I needed a cyperspace outlet. Nothing more. Computers have changed the way that many of us do business and think, and this medium is an obvious next step in the evolution of the dissemination of thought.
I have no idea where this will go - at this point, I have only two thoughts. I need a place to write what I think, and for now, I am going to try to keep my identity anonymous, so as to help with the former thought. I've watched one friend who did so, and I think it worked to his advantage over the long haul.
And so it begins . . .
The Sojourning Pilgrim
