A Happy Anniversary

A Happy Anniversary:

August 12, 1972, I said "I do" and "I will" to the lovely woman who became my wife and has now become my even lovelier wife. For almost all of those forty-six years, Kathy and I have been in ministry. During the first nine months of our marriage, while I finished college, we were youth leaders at a small rural church in Northeast Pennsylvania. Then for forty-two years we worked at Covington Bible Church in a mill-town in the Alleghary Highlands of Virginia. Unexpectedly, this is now our second anniversary celebrated on Guam, where we are privileged to serve at Pacific Islands University. One way or another, everywhere we have been, not only were we doing marriage for ourselves, but we have sought to model Christian-family, and teach people how to build homes that honor God. Now, working with young adults whose culture is as far from the one we grew up in as this island is far from rural Virginia, that is harder. Still, using the truth of God's word as our guide we are giving it our best shot. While we were out on a date this evening, I asked Kathy if she ever thought she would be doing what we are doing, where we are doing it, when she said "I do." back in '72. "No." was her answer, and for my part, I agree. The fact is, not only this last turn in our road together, but every step of our journey, has been unknown to us until we got there. Which brings me to an important truth about doing marriage right. Some of you readers, for whom I performed a marriage ceremony will be surprised to hear me say this, but the fact of the matter is, there is just no way you can be prepared for marriage. I'm still a believer in premarital counseling. I'm involved in a couple of versions of it, now, in my role at PIU. Bluntly, what I mean, though, is this:   There is nothing you can do before you are married that will ensure that you have a lasting, satisfying, God-honoring, people-blessing, good-child-raising marriage. Sure, starting well with good principles will make that more likely, but the bottom line it is not so much what you did before your marriage that brings success, it is what you continue to do. On this day that I celebrate saying "I do," I am committed to keep on doing. That concept is really quite liberating because it means there is hope. You can start now. Earlier this evening Kathy looked at me with those pretty green eyes and asked, "Are you happy?" I am. It's Something To Think About.

Putting Others First:

O Henry's wonderful little  tale, The Gift of the Magi, about two people in love has amused, encouraged, and challenged folk for over a century.  If you haven't read the delightful short story, I don't want to spoil it for you.  You might want to stop reading this STTA and come back to it after you read this classic.  You can find a copy, here.  No doubt it is, at least in part, because of William Sydney Porter's--O. Henry's real name--

skill, but in part it is because of what I'm about to tell you, that before I got to the little tales closing lines, my eyes were moist.

 " But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi."  
 

If the temperature is below 99 my wife is convinced that one should open the windows and make-do with the breeze from the ceiling fan.  (A slight exaggeration, but cut me some slack.  I'm

competing with a master, here.)  I, on the other hand, if left to my own "judgment" would run the air conditioner anytime the temperature is above 55.  Yesterday Kathy and I went on an errand of mercy.  We knew we'd be gone six to eight hours.  I didn't know it, but before we left my Lovely made sure the windows were closed and set the AC at a level that she judged would be a good compromise between comfort, primarily mine, when we returned and economy, something at which she excels, while we were gone.  When we returned, while I was occupied in some pre-going-to-bed business, she adjusted the thermostat downward to a temperature she figured would be more to my liking.  Having just heard the weather, and knowing that the night's forecast was a bit less hot and humid than an equatorial rain-forest, and in deference to my wife's economical spirit, I, on my way to joining my bride in bed, turned the AC to off and opened the windows.

You'd think that after forty-three years we'd have it figured out.

I've seen a lot of marriage trouble in my time as pastor, but I've yet to have a wife tell me "I'm leaving him because the house is too cold, or a husband confess I had the affair because we couldn't agree on how to set the thermostat.

When we try to apply the Biblical injunction, "Outdo one another in showing honor." (Romans 12:10, ESV) we might get it wrong, and end up laughing at one another.  But, if more of us were like the James Dillingham Youngs we'd be laughing together.

It's STTA.

On my anniversary, I'm thankful for that which is dependable.

Something To Think About, That which is solid:

My life has been remarkably stable--"boring," some would say.  I was privileged to serve as pastor of Covington Bible Church for all of my career.  I live in the same house where my bride and I settled some forty-two years ago.  On one side I've even had the same neighbors all that time.  As is inevitable, down here on this earth, though, change has accelerated, recently.  My job has changed.  I signed up for medicare.  I have a new knee.  The gradual changes that come with hanging around for sixty-five years have accumulated to the point that they can't be ignored.  More and more I find myself thinking of a loved-one or friend and remind myself that they are no longer with us.   Granted the scientists who did the study neglected to considersome information from outside the system, but, still, the observation they made is accurate.  If left to itself the world is running down (here).  Don't go out and buy extra blankets though, at the present rate of decline the lights will stay on for a long time.  Still the study is a macro illustration of what I observe in the micro of my life.  Change is inevitable.  Left to itself this momentum of mutation is not taking us in a positive direction. Warning: hard turn here, but I'm still on course: This morning while my lovely wife was out walking, I fixed breakfast.  When she returned we enjoyed the meal together.  We've been sharing breakfasts and life for forty-three years.  Next to my relationship with the Lord being married to Kathy is one of few steady states in my life.  As the pace of change surges I find it more important than ever to hold on to that which is reliable. I look around in my world and see that folk are abandoning what is secure.  They plant their feet firmly on a board that is surfing the latest big wave.  Just over the horizon is a tsunami ready to consume the current breaker as if it were but the ripple from a stone tossed into the surf.  As I see change in me and in my world, I am wonderfully thankful that there is that which doesn't change.  I'm grateful to my Lord, but today I say, "Thank you, Kathy.  Your love has been solid in the midst of the shifting reality of life." For the rest of you . . . It's STTA. You can find out more about the one completely solid relationship here.

A Serious Shortage of Dragons

Something To Think About, A Serious Shortage of Dragons:

As far as I can tell, dragons are only good for one thing, to be slain.  And, just trust me on this ladies, dragons ought to be slain by men.  The problem is, for most of we guys, dragons are as hard to find as a four leaf clover in a Minnesota blizzard.   Manly deeds for men to accomplish, in manly fashion, in the company of other men, followed by female accolades for their manly accomplishments are pretty rare.  Sure I sometimes rescue my wife's computer from blue-screen oblivion, and I know that the battle many of you guys daily fight with deadlines, contrary customers and unreasonable bosses is no piece of cake, but true dragon slaying should involves sweat; it's actually a good thing if a bit of blood is part of the adventure--at least there ought to be some danger involved--and after dragons are suitably dispatched there ought to be a sore muscle or two, and a callous that wasn't there before. A couple of younger friends and I just returned from a dragon hunt.  The head of the beast is already on the wall of my mental trophy room.  As dragons go, this was just a yearling.  One would be hard pressed to heat his coffee with the beast's breath, but in these Smaug-less times one must make-do.  I assembled my weapons--compressor, generator, pry-bar, jacks, come-along, log-chain (Log-chain sounds more impressive, don't you think, than just chain?), and, of course, my truck.  My comrades and I met at the appointed time before the dragons lair, and we slew that sucker.  (For those of you who want a literal description, an older friend has an old piece of heavy-duty machinery that is mounted on a trailer.  It is powered by a four-cylinder engine so it is fairly heavy.  Both tires were flat.  We were able to inflate one.  We coaxed the machine onto a flatbed trailer, hauled it to its new location and managed to get it off without turning it over or breaking any bones.)  If only Tolkien were still alive.  While I was washing the dragon stench from my body I thought of how I had enjoyed my little quest.     "The old sage with three younger warriors goes off to battle and comes home successful." It was fun. During the first twenty-five, or so, years of my dad's life he was a farmer.  His career of eating by the sweat of his brow was interrupted by his part in the defeat of the Nazis.  After that he wore a hard-hat, and steel-toed shoes.  He worked outside when it was twenty below.  His job involved trains, huge cranes, and molten metal.  Dead dragons were piled up like cord-wood.  For many of us, though, going to "work" means sitting in a padded chair in a climate-controlled room.  I'll leave you women out of this for a moment.  We guys are seriously in need of dragons to be slain, so much so that some guys go around slaying things that aren't dragons.  In fact they lay waste things that don't look remotely like a fire-breathing serpent. I'm at the end of the appropriate length of something about which to think, so let me just finish this way.  My colleagues and I could have found someone with a boom on a truck who could have picked that machine up, set it on a trailer and taken it off on the other end, without ever breaking a sweat.  Call me crazy if you want, but I'm really glad we didn't.  I can't imagine us getting together next week, slapping each other on the back and saying, "You know, I wasn't sure we'd get it done, but we got that guy paid."  Everyone knows that you can't just pay a hit-man to slay a dragon.  And ladies, even if you can bench-press a refrigerator, if you happen to run into a dragon, please look all maiden-in-distress-ish, and when your guy steps up and sends that dragon back to the pit from whence it came, even if it is nothing more than a dragon-ette, hug his neck, put some extra jelly on his biscuit, and tell him what a prime specimen of a dragon-slayer he is.  Then stand back; the popping buttons could be dangerous. Be watching.  Dragons are rare these days.  When you meet one, don't waste it.  Slay that sucker. It's STTA.

Message to Evangelicals: Just Be Quiet:

Something To Think About, Just Be Quiet:

Maybe I'm like the guy who just bought a new Hot-mobile.  Before he mortgaged the  next seven years of his life for the new set of wheels, he hardly ever saw a Hot-mobile on the road.  Now every time he goes out he sees half a dozen.  Maybe it's just me, but it seems like I see a lot of posting on blogs and social media directed at Evangelicals and other conservative Christians that basically says, "Just keep quiet about the recent SCOTUS decision on Gay Marriage. Generally the writers of these pieces carefully skirt the question of where they stand on the issue.  At this point they are heeding their own request--they are keeping their mouths, both real and cyber, shut. The gist of their commentary goes something like this: "Evangelicals have done a really poor job teaching about what the Bible says about divorce, social-justice, racial-reconciliation, gluttony, caring for the environment, (the list goes on); so they have no credibility in speaking out with any objections to the rightness of radically redefining our culture's oldest institution--marriage."  If I discerned, in these rebukes against speaking up, a real attempt at a wholistic opposition to sin, I would be more interested in signing on.  I don't see that.  What I do see is a recognition that a group of people have been hurt--such recognition is commendable, but should not necessarily be the controlling issue--and a realization that continuing to maintain the standard the church has held for two millennia is a really non-trendy, uncool, old-school, won't-get-me-invited-to-the-fun-parties kind of position.  Since I'm an Evangelical, and I go on record as telling my fellow-believers to just be quiet, maybe I won't have to wrestle with the tough issues, and will get the invitation to the cool party. A three pack a day smoker may neutralize his friend's criticism of his habit by shaming him for his fondness for, and over-indulgence in, chocolate cake, but when we attend their funerals--one having arrived by means of lung cancer and the other via clogged arteries--we will observe that the truly loving thing for our chocolate loving friend to do would have been to admit his sin and confess his own fault, but to, go on and point out that his own admission in no way changes the destructive force of tobacco addiction.  The wise thing for both would be a plan to work on their problems together. Galatians 6:1 indicates that being one who is "spiritual" is a qualification for seeking to correct another.  We know from the rest of the New Testament that that does not mean "you who are perfect."     Brethren, even if anyone is caught in any trespass, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; each one looking to yourself, so that you too will not be tempted. (Galatians 6:1)    It's STTA.

A Good Haircut

Something To Think About Marriage, 8/12

42 years ago at about this time, I was getting a haircut.  Kathy Marsceau was cutting my hair.  She didn't like the way my dad it.  She wanted me to look good for my wedding later that day.  I'll let you judge. Far more important than making me look better, she has and continues to make me better. I thank the Lord for a wonderful wife.  It's my anniversary so you go on from here, after all this is . . . Something to Think About.

Thoughts on Valentine Day:

Something To Think About, 2/14

I know it sounds really bad, but I'm not a particular fan of Valentine Day.  It's not that I don't love my lovely wife, or want her to know that I love her.  I guess it's that I resent, at least  a bit, being told that February 14 is the day I'm supposed to tell her that. For one thing, as is true about most holidays that once had  Theological meaning, the modern celebration of Valentine Day bears almost no resemblance to the martyr in whose honor the day is named.  (See here.)  I guess what really sorta bugs me is that having a day on which one is supposed to express his love for his beloved, kinda implies that I'm not doing a very good job on the other 364.25 days.  I'm sure I don't, but I don't like Hallmark, FTD, and Russel Stover reminding me. So this Valentine Day I'm asking myself, "Do I love my Lord with a love that would remain true even to death?" And I'm making known, that out of all the people on earth I am thrilled to spend my life with Kathy.  I don't even need to ask her to "BE MY VALENTINE."  She shows me again and again that she already is. Thank you.  I love you, Kathy. It's not your fault that a holiday about romance got named after a Christian martyr, so HAPPY VALENTINE DAY. It's STTA.