In My Own Way:

You have likely heard of an exercise in frustration. I'm getting toward the end of such a project. I'm doing most of the installation of a central air conditioning unit in my house. Mostly the project has gone pretty well, but the last phase of the project intersected with another DIY task that has been on hold for some time.


My house is a small Cape Cod with an exceptionally steep roof. Because of the pitch of the roof--something on the order of a 14 - 12, for you builder types--there is enough room for me to stand up in the middle of the attic space above the upstairs bedrooms. Since the house is small, years ago we put in a set of
folding attic stairs so we could make use of the space up there for storing Christmas decorations and such. To make the space more usable, I used some scrap plywood to make a "floor" in some of the area. It has been my plan for some time to add some insulation up there. I'd even salvaged some from other other projects and demolitions. Since I was cutting holes, etc. to run the duct-work it just makes sense to do this insulation project while I'm at it.

Remember the "floor." In order to add insulation to the areas where I had covered the old insulation I have to pull up that plywood, and in order to do that I have to move the stuff that is stored there, and in order to do that I have to have a place to pile it somewhere in the mean time--not to mention that I need a place to pile the plywood until I can nail it back in its new three-and-a-half inch higher position--both need a place that isn't in the way or already full, and while doing all of that I have to avoid hitting my head on the rafters and get my stiff knees to bend so I can get in the tight places. Far more than the wreaths, and boxes of ceramics, I am in my own way.

I find this to often be the case, not so much in construction projects, but with life. Romans 13:14 says, "But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts." Too often I claim that I am trying to do something new in regard to my spiritual life--to be more like Christ--but I want to save room for all this old stuff.

I'm in my own way.

It's STTA



http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html

Memorial Day, Remembering Lives Well Lived

Many people will visit graveyards today.  If my mother were still able she would go to my dad's grave and put some plastic flowers and a little American flag there.  My thoughts go to a number of gravesides: Dad's, just down the road, my father-in-law (my pastor during the formative years of my life), mother-in-law (who died on this day), and brother-in-law (who died just as he was entering adulthood).  They are all buried in a little country cemetery in Michigan.  A lot of my extended family are buried in the red dirt of Tennessee.  One of them is the last preacher in my direct line.  Another is an Uncle who profoundly influenced me, a vet, who lost his sight and one lung in the war, but went on to live a life fuller than most.  I was privileged to take part in the funerals of several of them.  One of the graves there is still fresh.  Another Uncle, named after that preacher-great-grandfather, is buried beneath one of those crosses that lie in what appear to be endless rows near the beach on Normandy where he, and so many others, gave their lives.    A wonderful friend lies beneath the prairie flowers of Northern Indiana.  She fought cancer with a passion, and won the victory as she ascended into the presence of her Savior.

My thoughts are not really on those graves.  My mind is occupied with the lessons of, and gift of, the lives of these people.  I am who I am, because of the lives they lived.  That someone died isn't really all that significant.  Dying is like falling; it is a natural occurrence; everything in this world is headed that way.  What is memorable about each of these folk is the life they lived.  Lives which in some cases are integrally linked to the deaths they died, and which have given me an opportunity to make a difference of my own.  

Lord, help me to use that privilege well.

http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html  

It's STTA

Pile up some rocks.

 

God led Moses to establish a memorial meal, even altering the calendar to help the people of Israel remember.  Joshua had some men pile up rocks, as a conversation starter in years to come.  "These stones shall become a memorial to the sons of Israel forever."  While we have our disagreements about exactly when they should take place and what they mean, virtually all of Christendom recognizes two memorials of the Cross and the Resurrection--Baptism and the Lord's Supper.  

Around our country and around the world memorials have been erected to help us remember.  We instinctively salute when we view Arlington, stand in silence before the solemn visage of Abraham Lincoln, and feel our heart swell when the Star Bangled Banner is played.  

Memorials.

I encourage you to set up some memorials in your spiritual life.  First make sure there is something worth remembering.  Then take steps to remember it.  Pile up some rocks.  Do something so this step ahead in your life will be remembered by you, and known to others.

We'll talk some more this Sunday at 8:30 & 10:55.  

http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html  

It's STTA

Memorialize What?

Lot's of people are getting ready for Memorial Day.  For most of us that means getting some steaks or burgers, tuning up the grill or maybe getting the family camping gear ready to go.  This cartoon reminds me of how to get ready for a memorial:

First you do something worth memorializing.

At this point there are a number of directions we could go.  You are welcome to finish this STTA in a way that will be profitable for you.

Here is one possibility:

Ask a simple question.  Has anything happened in my spiritual life that is worth remembering?  As you answer that question keep in mind that the most significant milestones in our walk with the Lord are not based on something that we do, but on that which is done for us, and to which we respond by faith.

Do some spiritual survey.  Perhaps that inventory will point to a need respond to the Lord and His word in a new way.  First identify, respond to, and, by faith, enter into the Divine plan for you so you will have something worth remembering.  The link below will give you a place to start.

  

http://covingtonbiblechurch.com/lifesmostimportant.html  

It's STTA

Friends:

As a follow-up to yesterday's STTA, I post the following, with the author's permission, of course:

[You can tell this was written a while back by the reference to a "pocket calendar," rather than an electronic device--oh, wait, my friend still uses a Day-Timer.  And 10+ years later both are still my very good friends.]
 
FRIENDS

I have a friend who is so nice that probably he will die with apologies, knowing that his funeral will inconvenience someone.  We have a common friend who can't stand it when friend #1 holds open a restaurant door for someone who isn't quite to the entrance yet.  Friend #2 can see the wasted time slipping away and figures that if someone is able to go out to eat then he is able to open the door for him/herself.
Friend #2 orders his life by his pocket calendar while friend #1 is like a radio receiver tuned to the "needs" messages others broadcast.  If one friend is late he is concerned about his schedule.  When the other is late he is concerned that he is inconveniencing others.  Me? I may not even be aware that I am late.
Both my friends sometimes wonder about me.  One feels that my laid-back approach to life is inefficient--not the way to get the job done, while the other, I suspect (He is much too nice to say so.), thinks that I take the needs of others too lightly.  The fact is they are both right.  After years of work one friend has influenced me to the point that now I can at least find my pocket calendar, and the other has helped me to see that just caring is not enough; I must demonstrate that I care in a way that is meaningful to the person concerned.
As I observe my friends I see that they have had a good effect on one another and I can even detect how I have influenced them.  They have changed me, however, more profoundly than they could possibly know.  I guess you could call us the odd trio, though I would rather refer to our relationship as a Proverbs 27:17 friendship.  We have been rubbing the rough edges off one another for years.  I believe that all three of us are better for the experience.  I know I am.
I suspect that deep in his heart my "by the numbers" friend wonders why people put up with our "terminally kind" friend's ways.  I mean, if you hang out with the guy you are constantly being delayed so that he can help some little old lady across the street or get a cat out of a tree.  I wouldn't be surprised if my "hold the door friend" asks himself why do others put up with our "dot the "I" and cross the "T" friend.  I mean he may splash water on the little old lady, as he rushes by, and he probably figures that one cat up a tree is just one cat up a tree.  I know that both of them wonder why anyone puts up with my "don't worry; be happy" ways.
The answer is no further than our own hearts.  I love both my friends because they are incredible people.  I have found that in addition to his "bottom line" ways my calendarized friend cares deeply for the needs of others.  In fact the purpose of all that goaling and planning and strategizing is so he can help meet those needs.  I have seen in my "may I help you?" friend a deep commitment to goals and concerns that go far beyond the demand of the moment.  In fact one reason he keeps his receiver tuned in is because meeting the needs of others is one of the chief goals of his life.
Still I sometimes find that my friends bug me; from time to time I have to cut them some slack.  They love one another and me and I love them, but it is not because we see one another in a rose-colored hue.  We see in each other not only good qualities, but irritating idiosyncrasies--characteristics that if found in another would drive us to keep our distance. Each of us realizes that the blessing to be gained by the maintenance of the relationship is well worth the price that must be paid to maintain it.
 
 It's STTA

Forgiveness, it patches the holes in the fabric of life:

Kathy and I are on our way to a wonderful family occasion.  Our oldest grandchild is graduating from high school.  His is a story that merits it's own, much longer, article, but suffice to say it is a story filled with grace.  For my wife and me, his graduation is not only significant because of the recognition of accomplishment, but because it is one more indication of God's continued goodness in our lives.  We are very thankful.
On the way to the airport we listened to a Focus on the Family program about divorce.  I was struck with the irony.  We were going to celebrate family, and along the way listening to information about the dissolution of family.  Bible scholar, John MacArthur, spoke about God's teaching on the subject.  Prominent in the Bible's word on divorce is, "Don't!"  And high on the list of how to stay together rather than break apart, is to forgive.
I have forgotten most of them, but the opportunity to gather around one of our's and celebrate his accomplishment, the well-wishes of extended family that I carry with me from others who can't make the trip, are in many ways a result of many instances of pardon granted.  Had there not been forgiveness, and its blessed companion forbearance (see Ephesians 4:2&32),  I would have been abandoned--if not killed--by my wife years ago, my sons would have written me off as a crusty, old buzzard, and my grand-kids would have found me hopelessly out of touch.  In short the rich network of relationships that make this celebration possible would have been torn to shreds years ago, in fact some of the people involved wouldn't even exist, had it not been for people I love being willing to do the hard work of forgiving, so love could continue.

Forgiveness, you can't build relationships without it.

Saying, "I choose to not make this offense the basis of my relationship--or lack thereof." goes beyond the family.  Unfortunately in our world where most things are disposable and consumable we too easily discard relationships.  I have been discarded.  It's not because I don't deserve to be.  The fact is I don't merit love, kindness, or the benefit of fellowship.  Every time I have been dumped I deserved it.  If relationships, however are only to be maintained with the constantly deserving, they will be few--perhaps nonexistent.  As I look at the rich fabric of friends and family that I enjoy, I don't see a single thread that is not colored with the beautiful dye of forgiveness.  Those who refuse to forgive will find the holes in their fabric will let this world's cold wind chill their bones.

 It's STTA

Cutting apron strings can cut the heart, but not doing so wounds much worse:

I've been doing a survey of Moms.  "What is hard about being a Mom?"  

I guess I should give the usual disclaimer.  This isn't a scientific survey.  So far, though, the answers lead me to conclude that one of the hardest things about being a Mom is not being a Mom--in the hands on sense--any more.  My Father-in-law said one time, about his adult daughter, "I can still smell the baby powder."  Moms' hearts are full of the smells, sights, sounds, and varied experiences of child-rearing.  Good Moms invest themselves in their youngsters to nurture and protect them.  If they do their job well a time will come when the job must change.

We talk about young adults, especially, young men, being tied to their mother's apron strings.  We all know what the words mean today.  Too frequently we see young people in their twenties, or even thirties (I've seen one case where it lasted until a guy was nearly sixty.) who still depend on Momma for housing, income, various domestic services, etc.  The syndrome has been fodder for countless sitcoms.  I did a quick websearch to find out where the metaphor came from.  Some claim there was a time in years past when Moms would tie their young charges to their aprons--kind of a leash.  Another theory is that it wasn't the Mother's apron strings that were cut, but the child's.  According to this scenario children wore an apron-like garment to keep their other clothing clean.  The strings made a convenient handle for Moms to grab.  One more view made reference to men in centuries past who enjoyed the benefits of their mother's or wife's aristocratic title, while having no independent title of their own.  They were tied to the woman's apron strings.  

Where ever the term came from,  a Mom tied to an adult child in a controlling way, creates an abnormality on both ends of the string--apron, or otherwise.  At the beginning of human history it was stated that a man would "leave his father and mother."  (Genesis 2:24)  The task of parenting is to "bring them up," a term that speaks of maturity, not continued dependence.  (Ephesians 6:4)  We provide children what they need in order to encourage maturity.  

It is one of the reasons that being a good Mom is so hard.  They must go from the point of providing everything, to the point of letting them go.  In the blink of an eye between those two extremes she needs to help provide what they need to succeed.

Mom, my hat is off to you.  We ought to honor you, not only this Sunday, but every day.

It's STTA

The World's Most Difficult Job:

Our culture is fascinated with jobs that are out of the ordinary.  Dirty Jobs, Ice Road Truckers, and Deadliest Catch  are just three of the TV shows in this genre.  It seems that the goal of these programs is to feature ways of making a living that combine, "I can't believe they do that," with "I'm glad I don't have to do that," with "That's cool." 

In my humble opinion, though, those who shovel fish-guts in typhoons, or catch sharks with their bare-hands, or have to get to Fairbanks in six hours in spite of the worst whiteout in history, are engaged in mere child's play compared to my nomination for the worlds most dangerous, messiest, and, too frequently, least rewarding job--Being a mom.

You notice I said "mom" not "mother."  Lot's of women are mother's.  The qualification (singular) for being a mother is to have given birth to, or adopted a child.  Being a mom involves so much more that the job description defies description.  An exposition of 1 Corinthians 13 is a good start.  It's not easy being a Mom.

Sunday we honor moms at CBC.  We'll be listening to

My Mom, Irene Merrell

what "Momma says," and asking ourselves the question, "How can we help these ladies do their critical task?"  

If you are able it would be great for you to join us, but whether you do or not, do something to honor your Mom and uphold Motherhood--no, make that MOM-hood.

It's STTA

An Old Man, A Walker, and A Trash Can:

I almost stopped to help the gentleman, but having dealt with temporary limited-mobility myself, I figured he would have thanked me, but likely wouldn't really have been thankful for my assistance.  The fact is, he didn't need my help, he would have thought, maybe said, "I can do this," and I'm quite sure that is important to him.  

I saw him when I was driving down a street in a nearby neighborhood, a seasoned citizen doing a simple task that most of us take for granted--bringing the empty trash can back to its place after the garbage-truck made its rounds.  In order to take a step the old gent had to square up in his walker and use both hands to support himself.  Each step allowed him to advance maybe one foot.  After each step he would reach around behind himself and drag his trash can the same distance.  How many times did this procedure have to be repeated before the refuse container was back in its appointed place?  I don't know, but judging from the two or three steps I watched him take, it took a while. 

After suppressing the desire to stop and "help" the man, I noticed a number of homes--likely houses populated by healthy folk, where trash cans still lined the street.  (The fact is, while I write this mine are still out front.  I'll get them as soon as I finish.  I promise.)  Some of these people were busy, or not home.  I wondered if some lacked the virtue that compelled this old man to go out and one more time do a task he had done for maybe seventy years even though declining health made the task incredibly difficult.  

I watched my neighbor for a less than a minute--

move the walker, 

step, 

turn, 

drag the can, 

turn back, 

grab the walker, 

move the walker, 

repeat, 

repeat, 

repeat, 

repeat!  

Lord, help me to do what I can do and should do.  Amen.

It's STTA