Swwwooooosssshhhh

My youngest son, Aaron, has begun his basketball career. The way my retirement is currently going, it is imperative for him to become a professional. But, he has gotten off to a rather inauspicious start.

Last evening I was on my way home from teaching a seminary class in Champaign. I called home to see how someone from the church was doing (when I left Gibson they were in the emergency room) and to see how his game had gone. Aaron's team had won their first three games. He was getting playing time and was doing pretty well, especially rebounding. His mother put him on the phone and he said to me: "I made a basket"! I was a proud poppa. That's My Boy! My son was an awesome player. He was destined for greatness on the court, his name would be in the papers, and I could retire one day! Then he said, "A kid from the other team missed a shot and I grabbed the rebound. I was fighting for the boards. When I came down with it - no one was guarding me! So, I made a beautiful lay-up and promptly scored 2 points - for the other team! That is right, Dad, I forgot to take the ball down the court and scored 2 for the other team". My wife said the gym was dead silent. No one knew what to say. Our team lost - I was afraid to ask by how much! Thankfully, it was by 7 or 9 points.

Aaron told me his team was pretty good about it. The coach said "It happens". Aaron said he told the coach: "I want labels. One goal labeled 'THEM' and one goal labeled 'US'."

Maybe I better not think too much about retirement. And, I am thankful Aaron could laugh about it, finally. I know how he feels. Sometimes it seems like I score points for the opposition as well. In the end, the Lord is gracious and forgiving. Aaron is going to play again. Maybe basketball is not his sport. Maybe I should get him thinking about football, or golf, or baseball, or water polo!

This and That

There is something about water that is relaxing and refreshing. This was a waterfall Connie and I saw north of Vancouver, B.C. The photo does not do it justice in terms of its beauty. The Psalmist has written My God, my soul is in despair within me; Therefore I remember You from the land of the Jordan and the peaks of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me. The LORD will command His lovingkindness in the daytime; And His song will be with me in the night . . . The grace of God rolls over us like waves - and they are refreshing.

This past week has been a roller coaster. I cannot imagine the grief of the families of the two girls who died Tuesday morning. Everything about that event still seems a bit surrealistic to me. The world is not the way it is suppose to be. There are no simple answers. May God's grace roll over the families like waves. I was so pleased that we could offer some solace by providing the church building to the family who requested it and by volunteering time and workers. We estimated about a thousand people were at the visitation. How good it was to see people willing to serve.

Sunday morning was an exhilarating experience. We witnessed how the providential grace of God orchestrates a persons life so that they are deployed in kingdom work in ways they never thought imaginable. "Here I am, send me" was clearly demonstrated for us all to see. Joe Andris would not have believed, a year ago, that he would be spending the winter as a short-term missionary on Copper Island. But, he is. His willingness to do so was a potent testimony. May the Lord's grace roll over Joe like the waters that surround the island on which he will be working.

The worship this past Sunday was powerful. Keith and Sue do a great job. They invest so much time and effort and prayer and energy into seeking to provide God-honoring worship - and they do. May they also find refreshment in God's grace.

Sunday evening there was a pot-luck/carry-in/provide food for everyone else supper for the small group that meets here at the building. About 30 folks showed up. The food was delicious and the conversations around the table energizing. We laughed together, prayed together, grieved together, and shared together. Such relationships are some of the water of grace that God pours into our lives.

When I got home Sunday evening I was bushed. And, the water of God's grace came in the form of playing a game with my son and wrestling with my dog and a hug from my wife. Refreshing water - deep, cool, clear water. Sometimes it seems we are in the desert. And then, the rain comes, streams of mercy are ours and they refresh us. Heaven has a river in it. I look forward to sitting by the shore of it and celebrating the wonderful grace of Jesus.

Swimmin' Hole

It is weird, but today I have been thinking about Spring Creek. When I was a kid, Spring Creek was a refuge, a haven, a natural and God given Disney World. Not that there was much to it. It is a rather small, meandering creek that winds its way through Rapides Parish. It begins near Otis and eventually dumps into Cocodrie Lake.

Growing up I experienced summer days that even those "acclimated" to the heat found unbearable. The temperature would be in the mid to upper 90's and the humidity would have joined it. The air was still and so was everything else. The cows would be lying under shade trees chewing their cuds. Dogs would seek the shelter of the porch or carport and do little more than pant. I have seen cats do the same. Even the crickets would quiet down on those oppressive days. We had no air conditioning. It seemed hard to draw your breath and no one felt like doing anything.

On those miserable days we found relief in Spring Creek. Big Bend, the Tilly Hole, Hogans Hole - all were delightful swimming holes located in Spring Creek. Before my brother could drive, we would try to convince my grandfather Jimmy to take us. He had a 1961 white GMC long wheel base truck that he used to peddle fruit (and various other commodities). It was just right for carrying a load of boys to the Creek. We would pile in about 1 or 2 in the afternoon. All of us would be wearing cut off blue jeans (NO ONE wore a bathing suit that I ever remember other than the cut-offs). Our mothers would not allow us to swim too soon after eating dinner (which was served at noon where I grew up). "You swim too soon after eating and you will get stomach cramps and sink to the bottom of Spring Creek" is what they told us. Grandpa was good to take us and often would roll out a blanket on the creek bank and go to sleep. It is impossible to describe the feeling of swinging from a rope off the bank of the creek and letting go. In the moment it takes to fall into the creek you thought about what was coming. The shock is unbelievable. Looking back, I am surprised it did not kill us all. There were those folks who climbed into the creek an inch at a time. I thought that was torture. By letting go of the rope, I knew that there was no turning back. I went for the total immersion method of entering the ice cold water. It always felt like I was having a heart attack. The shock from the coldness of the spring fed creek literally would suck the air out of your lungs. But, oh, it made you feel like you were resurrecting from the dead. A sense of exhilaration would explode through you. Often you would rise to the surface of the water and let out a woop of joy.

We would spend the afternoon swimming, jumping off the rope, wrestling, splashing, dunking, playing games, hiding from the scorching heat. The temperature always seemed cooler down by the creek. I can remember shivering from the cold of the creek when riding home in the back of Grandpa's truck. We all looked like prunes from being in the water so long. I also remember that wonderful feeling of being so tired and sunburned and hungry from an afternoon at the creek. I have heard it said that there is a "good" tired. This was it.

Perhaps those afternoons have become idyllic with the passing of time. Maybe I have exaggerated in my mind how good they were. The fall of man invaded those places. Sometimes we would get into fights, there were mosquitoes and the occasional water moccasin with which to deal. And yet, there was something wonderful about those long, hot, lazy afternoons spent immersing ourselves in Spring Creek. There is no going back. Some of those swimming holes are filled in. None of them seem as large as I remember them. But, every now and then, when I visit them, in the whisper of the hot summer wind I can hear the voices of boys delighting in the simple pleasure of cold water on a hot day.

A New Day

The sun rose on a new day in America today. I am a bit groggy from staying up and watching the election returns and the candidates speeches. I thought that McCain was gracious and Obama eloquent. In some ways, it was a surreal evening. For the first time in my life, we have a president that is younger than I am! The image of an African American basking in the success of his campaign for President is a vision many thought impossible but a few years ago. What is most astounding about the victory of Barack Obama is the meteoric trajectory of his past few years. In my mind it easily eclipses the ascent of Clinton from Hope, Arkansas to the White House. One moment we hear him say, "Hello, I am Barack Obama", and the next we hear "Hello, I am President Obama".

In an earlier time, I had voted for an African American running for president - Alan Keyes. I did not in this election. For me, there is something vaporous about Obama. I cannot get my hands on his substance. He is electrifying, eloquent, energizing, and expressive. But, is he capable? He is the perfect post-modern president. He seems to me to be "Every Man" and that is disconcerting. There are certain issues that drive the way I vote. Abortion, same sex marriage, and the role of the government in our every day lives are among the significant concerns for me.

I think that, as believers, we are compelled by scripture to pray for our president and the leaders of our country. We are called to recognize that regardless of the leadership of the country, our hope and faith are in the Lord. We are called to continue dispersing the gospel and expressing the love of Jesus Christ to the community in which we live. We are called to know the joy of the Lord as our strength. We are called to repent of our sin and grow in our love of Jesus.

Now is not the time for Christians to predict that the sky is falling and we should run for the hills. Now is the time God has called us to let our light shine before men - a city set on a hill. Now is the time for us to be salt bringing flavor to our culture. Now is the time for us to give an answer for the hope that is within us.

I pray that all of our leaders know God's grace, mercy, and strength. That the decisions they make will reflect a sense of concern for that which is honorable, right, and gracious. And, that we see a revival sweep through our churches which results in our faith being energized and animated.

VOTE!

The folks at the polling booth told me that the turn-out has been very good! I voted at 7:30 this morning. They gave me a little sticker that said "I Voted". I usually do not wear the sticker. Seems a bit ostentatious to me. But, today, I am wearing it. My conversations with a Chinese student in my seminary class has created a deeper appreciation and impression about the privilege of voting. Later, I am going to talk about who I voted for and why.

Latest "Adventure"

Jerry Sanders, a man from our church, had asked me about riding with him to Starved Rock State Park. Starved Rock is 100 miles north of Gibson City. Apparently, it is one of the state parks our governor has chosen to spare. Connie and I had been there once before, but it was at night because we had driven to the lodge with some friends after eating at the Cajun Connection (great place!) in Utica. The park does look different during the day. It is a spectacular place to go and see, especially with the leaves having turned. It was also fun to watch a push-boat and barges run through the lock.

Jerry and I climbed up to the peak of "Starved Rock". Afterwards, we ate a delicious lunch in the beautiful lodge. The only bummer about the lunch was the group of high school students eating near us that had two boys threatening to beat each other into oblivion. The group leader seemed oblivious until the boys stood up and started really getting into each others face. Nothing like a good rumble to spoil a lunch! They were separated and calmed down. All this happened behind Jerry and he was as oblivious as I was nervous.

The trip was all the more adventurous because we road motorcycles to get there. It was sunny and 74 degrees. We had attempted to ride up twice before, but weather and schedules got in the way. Jerry is a great guy to be around. His enthusiasm for life and the Lord is contagious. But, I was a bit nervous following him on a bike for 200 miles. For one thing, I have some fairly vivid memories of experiences in a vehicle with Jerry. We were in Canada on a short-term missions trip and I was in a van Jerry was driving. He almost got in a fight with a home-less guy and he drove a bit close to the folks in front of us. Jerry use to drive race cars and it shows. None of that was evidenced yesterday, other than riding through a school zone at 55 and passing a policeman at 65.

The glory of the Lord is all around us, if we but look. The changing of the seasons recall His faithfulness. Spring time and harvest declare something about Him if we but listen. You don't have to go to Starved Rock to see that majesty.