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One morning at a unique location I rose with the sun. Warm rays pierced the gaps in the window shades. I welcomed their friendly teasing.
After a quick shower, I reviewed my notes for a busy day of work. Then, I considered what I would do for the next few hours. The choice was clear. I would not stay cooped up in my temporary quarters. Rather, I would venture outside of my cubicle-of-a-room and take in the natural beauty of my surroundings.
I was afterall in the middle of a Redwood forest. Opening the door I took in a deep breath. This was a good choice for the start of a new day.
Cool morning breezes engulfed me in my layered-up outerwear. My Western boots resounded on the asphalt walk way. I drank in the remarkable landscape of the hills where I was staying.
A quick stroll down the nearby pathway filled my mind with the grandeur of the moment. It’s impossible to stroll through the Redwoods and not look up. A canopy of gigantic trees loomed overhead. God’s beautiful creation powerfully testified of His magnificent design.
These amazing trees have a rich yet fluffy-looking bark that guides the tree straight up into the sky. They are massive in girth, monstrous in height and majestic in stature. Glinting through the morning skies, their boughs filter the early sunlight.
Soon I find a stump to sit and reflect. My eyes scan the upward horizon and see collections of wonderul trees. These guardians don’t stand alone. While each is a standard of gargantuan proportions, they are also groupies.
These behemouth trees have a very shallow root system. Instead of burying their roots deep in the soil to anchor their position against the violent wind storms of the West Coast, they have a web of shallow roots. This enables the trees to soak up the rain water quickly and quench its massive thirst.
The mighty redwood is mighty because they depend on each other. Their root systems interlock into the root systems of all their neighboring redwood trees. Like an inpenetrable net below the surface of the soil these great trees hold on to each other and collectively stand strong against all the meterological onslaughts that come.
This is a lesson from the Creator on the strength of unity. Standing together these trees make a forest. It is the same for us. No matter how talented or well-resourced we are by ourself, standing strong with one another gives us our greatest potential.
Most of my travels ebb and flow with anxiety. Naturally, as I prepare to speak in front of a crowd of people there is a fair amount of angst. Getting connected with the right people in a new city or country has its tense moments too. But, without question there is always a bit of concern when I’m waiting to find out if my luggage made the journey with me.
I make my way through the airport along with thousands of others. Signs guide us all in an orderly fashion to the carousels that promise to reconnect us with our luggage. God doesn’t want me to worry at all, right? He has it all under control, right?
Normally, I take my time. I have flown enough that hurrying to the luggage claim is a lot like hurrying up just to wait. Only once in all of my travels has my luggage arrived first.
The luggage carousel is an amazing feat of engineering. How someone was able to design these metal plates to rotate smoothly is a wonder. Often I stare at the shifting plates and watch each piece slide over or under and pivot in perfect harmony with every rotation.
It seems like forever before the bags began the long journey up the conveyor belt and then slide on to the carousel. But, the parade of bags, suitcases, dufflebags and backpacks begins to the delight of the expectant crowd. The expressions on peoples’ faces is a lesson in fulfillment.
Those who stare at the entrance to the conveyor system look hopeful and fearful at first. With each entry there is a pensive spirit that is detailed in their body language. Travelers with companions try and comfort each other.
Those who wait the longest start to look worried. When there is a gap in the parade of bags, people look helplessly for someone to assure them that more bags are coming. But, the only solace comes when more bags appear at the conveyor belt opening.
I was trying to look like a cool customer. So many had left the carousel successfully united with their belongings. As a seasoned travel I didn’t want to look like a worried rookie. Finally, my bag showed up. I collected it with one swift grab-and-lift and departed with my inscrutible reputation in tact. God didn’t want me to worry, so I didn’t . . . did I?
So often when we walk through the concrete jungle we walk with our heads down. Maybe it’s from the old days as a child playing the game of not stepping on the sidewalk expansion cracks. We avoided those in a make-believe world to keep the trolls from eating us!
Or sometimes those downward looks came from that rare moment when we discovered a loose coin. We picked it up and held on to it like a long lost treasure. It was free money afterall!
Then, of course there were those forgetable moments. Who hasn’t stepped on some disgusting litter? Gum was one of the biggest “yucks!” on the sidewalk. When I stepped into sticky gum it was awful. No matter what I did, the feeling of total repulsion couldn’t be cleaned away.
The city is one of the biggest offenders of filthy litter on the sidewalk. Brochures, newspapers, flyers, ticket stubs, cigerette butts and food were like sidewalk polkadots. If we speed up our pace and dodge these obstacles it could actually turn into a dance! God created us in His image to be versatile.
We could call the dance the Sidewalk Shuffle! Hop here, spin there, skip over yonder and slide this way and that. If you land on a piece of gum then it’s scape it off here, grind it off there or scuff it down one two and three.
I’m in a big city this weekend. Many come here as a vacation destination from all over the world. Obligations have called me to this part of the world. The sights are unique, the people are wild and the sidewalks are dirty. From years in the past I have done the Sidewalk Shuffle in this great metropolitan area. But Dancing with the Stars never picked up on my talent.
If I dare to look up while strolling the lanes of the city, I’m sure to step on something that will make me wretch. So, instead, I jig, I hop and I twirl. Just add a bit of music and a new urban passtime will begin. Doing the Sidewalk Shuffle will be a hit.
Anyone can do it. It will always be unique. Bustin’ a move will be natural. Instead of memorizing steps, any practitioner focuses on responding to the circumstances that surround them.
Give it a try the next time you’re out for a walk down the lanes. And remember that you learned it from the master mover himself, the Fongmeister, king of the Sidewalk Shuffle.
I have admitted that I cannot dance. That is a fun part of life that I missed out on not because it wasn’t God’s design but due to flawed human opinion. Oh, well, I can now live vicariously through those around me who can.
Dancing with the Stars is one of this season’s most popular TV shows. It is fun. It is glamorous. It is exciting. Most of us will never make an attempt. Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop us from having our favorite.
From the very beginning Kristi was my choice. I liked many of the other celebrities who were courageous enough to make an attempt in the world of ballroom dancing. They were entertaining.
The pros were amazing. How they have trained themselves to move with music is spectacular. Like people practicing their precision craft my eyes marvelled after their blazing moves, admired their complicated transitions and picked up the splash of their emotion-expressed-in-dance.
Each time the judges gave their critique I found myself eager to hear what they had to say. If they agreed with my biased assessment, I cheered. However, if they downplayed what I thought deserved better, I was quite free to Boo the TV and hiss their opinion.
But, they did not disappoint me when it came to Kristi. Each time they gave her top scores and America voted in agreement. The night that the champion was crowned I really didn’t have time to watch the results. However, I found myself eagerly anticipating what the outcome would be. I pushed my bedtime as far back as I could.
Once Kristi was crowned the champion, I sighed and went to bed. This amazing athelete and performer dazzled me when she skated on ice, won her Olympic gold and gave me endless smiles as a professional skater with the ice shows. Now, this versatile performer captured my imagination again.
On Dancing with the Stars, she not only cut it up on the floor, she was gracious and delightful in front of the TV screen. Her competitive spirit was not arrogant but playful yet strong and determined. It was not surprising that others who were competing spoke so highly of her as a person.
What sheer delight to crown a champion who is a great achiever and such a likeable person. There’s no bad-girl image here. Her talent as a winner on ice was perfectly adaptable to her winning on the dance floor and into the hearts of Amercia once again.
Last Friday I drove myself to the Detroit airport after saying Good-bye to my wife. We rehearsed my upcoming busy schedule. My last words were that I looked forward to seeing her on Tuesday. The confidence in our planning is common place and natural because brave men and women died to provide it. I remember and I am grateful.At the airport I parked my pick-up truck in a lot that is privately owned. I love my truck! When I locked it and jumped into the shuttle that would take me to the terminal, I had no worries about my truck’s safety or that it wouldn’t be there when I returned. Brave men and women died to guarantee that confidence. I remember and I am very grateful.
Inside the terminal there is wonderful liberty to move quickly through all phases of my check-in. Service personnel at the counter smile and greet me warmly. They even are free to banter with small chat. No one is afraid of saying something that might be scrutinized, be offensive or jeopardize their personal safety. Brave men and women died to insure the luxury. I remember and I am deeply grateful.
There is security at the airport. But, it is not a big inconvenience. It is a necessity because evil people in the world are trying to steal our liberty, our freedom our way of life. Precautions that make it difficult for the wicked to do their dastardly deeds is part of our freedom to defend ourselves. Brave men and women died to give us those options. I remember and I am intentionally grateful.
At the site of the conference I spoke with complete liberty. My faith was at the heart of each talk. I could say what I wanted without fear of reprisal. Brave men and women died to make that expression a guarantee. I remember and my heart is so grateful.
Some asked about my political views. I elected to speak highly of President Bush. In this country we can actually say something positive about our President by choice. Brave men and women died so that I could have this freedom of speech. I remember and I am forever grateful.
To all of our brave men and women in uniform, I declare to you my thanks. I pray for God’s blessing to be poured out in your life. Thank you. I will always remember.
My alarm clock rang right on time at 5AM. Today was a special day. I had a long drive ahead of me and my ministry assignment was unique.
In reality I could have awakened my alarm clock. When the friendly chirping began, I was already awake. My mind was racing. This upcoming speaking assignment was limited to a very short five minutes. It’s harder to say something worthwhile in a shorter period of time than it is in a longer period of time.
Today I would be leading in the Call to Prayer for the State of Michigan Prayer Breakfast. 800 of the state’s most influential and powerful people would gather to participate in prayer. And all who came would hear the Good News of Jesus Christ.
I was nervous. Could I pack in enough stuff in the five minutes that I have been alloted? Would I make sense so early in the morning? How could I promote Michigan Theological Seminary in the process? My mind was spinning.
My morning preparations were complete. Dressed in a charcoal grey pin striped suit, white shirt, yellow tie and dress cowboy boots decked with conchos and chain I was ready to present myself to Michigan’s finest. Now, if I could just find the venue in our state’s capital seventy-three miles away.
There was some irony while making this long drive. Here I was going to pray at a gathering of very important people. En route I was praying for the ability to pray effectively. Then, I was laughing at myself and talking to God about how silly I was being. I had realized that I was praying about praying about praying. Now, that’s wacked out theology!
I arrived safely. The well-decorated banquet hall was being serviced by the wait staff. Dignitaries began arriving and I found my host, met his guests, visited with the various presenters and guest speaker.
Eating breakfast is a vague memory. At the end of the choir’s last number, I stood on cue and stepped up to the microphone. My introductory remarks flowed smoothly. Then, my prayer followed. It was heart-felt and sincere before the Lord. It was a supplication on behalf of our leaders and citizens.
Still in my mind I wanted to leave the committee who invited me with a positive memory. Then, as my remarks and prayer came to an end, the idea struck me. One of the best parts of my speaking that morning was that I ended early.
Of course I’m too busy. You’re too busy. Each of us is trying to finish up what we are doing so that we can have time to do what we really want to do…whatever that is. It’s hard to know since we never have enough time to do it.
Once arriving at home I saw a seam in my obligations. My last appointment ended early. God had given me an extra hour to spare. I had to try and get another project checked off of my day planner.
In the next few moments I set about putting materials together, organizing equipment and pulling records so that expeditious work could be accomplished. My momentum for this last-minute project was sailing along beautifully. Suddenly and totally expected, the door bell rang.
For a split second I almost ignored it. After all, I wasn’t expecting anyone. If it was an emergency the person at the door would surely persist or come back later.
Reluctantly, I peered around the corner. A stranger was at the door. Oh, bother.
Slowly, I opened the door. He looked me straight in the eye with a pleasant smile. I could see it coming from a mile away.
He started off with a compliment. I knew what he was doing but it is a proven technique to at the very least keep the door open.
Next, he identified himself as a student and made some self-deprecating remarks about how insecure he was talking to me. What he said and the perfect elocution with which he said it were contradictory. But, it earned him another 30 seconds.
Then, with time being spent and my hand firmly on the door knob, he did the dastardly thing and made a joke. I didn’t laugh but gave him a courtesy smile. To keep me engaged he asked me a question to evaluate his presentation. He was trying to get me to say something positive.
I know these techniques. Throughout the ages I have sold door-to-door. Now, I was getting impatient. I needed to get back to work. I almost interrupted him but he got straight to the point. He was working on a project and needed to raise money. He was selling magazines.
I smiled, said “No,” he said “Thank you for your time,” and another great pitch failed to win a sales. But at least I got to go back to work.
When I first met Kevin, she was sitting across the table at a church dinner. Friends introduced us. Back then I thought it wasn’t proper social behavior to ask how she got her name.
Kevin sings like a bird. While God has packaged her in a petite form, she belts out music with a powerful and sweet voice. In better days she was a traveling musician blessing the lives of many in churches around the country.
Over the years, I learned more and more about her story. Hearing the details of a friend’s story deepens friendship, leads to moments of wonderful acceptance and also opens avenues to express care. Once at another dinner she shared the story that has been her deepest hurt.
Her husband of many years, father of her two daughters and partner through a huge part of her life and faith suddenly left her. There was no explanation. He just gave hollow sounding explanations.
His abandonment left Kevin vulnerable. She struggled with economic challenges, rearing children as a single mom and lived with all of those dark moments of loneliness. What kind of man does that to a woman that he vows before God and witnesses that he will love, honor and cherish?
If these struggles weren’t painful enough, his hidden betrayal was eventually uncovered. That was an additional blow to an already excruciating situation. What a cad he is! God will have an eventual encounter with him.
Then, Kevin got around to checking out some physical concerns. Her suspicions were correct. She had cancer.
Try going through that kind of agony alone. Kevin is courageous. She is not a whiner, complainer or at all wallowing in self-pity.
Her tenacious spirit is amazing. She beat cancer the first time. We celebrated with her.
Then, we cried with her when the cancer came back. All of us who call her friend, moaned and looked to God in silent prayers. Could He just be merciful?
Our church deacons swooped down on her house this past Saturday. They refreshed her landscape, fixed what needed fixing and replaced what needed replacing. What a support of love.
Tonight she said Good-bye to her elementary school students. She taught these little lives how to sing and dance. They sang and danced their Good-bye to their teacher with big smiles mixed with tears.
For months I have been hearing birds chirping when the sun begins to rise. Every morning they seem so close when I wake from a great night’s sleep. For a while I thought that they were outside of my window, in the trees. Eventually, I would discover how very wrong I was!
They were in the trees. I saw many birds perched in the branches. But, there were more birds that were very close.
When I listened closely, I suspected that my house had been invaded. It’s my own fault. I was going to solve this problem last Fall. But, I was busy and I forgot about the problem.
During that time I had hired an electrician do some installation work for me. Some of his work had to be done in the attic. So, I mentioned to him to take note of any holes that were letting birds into the attic.
He finished his wiring and did a splendid job. I forgot to ask him about the birds. He never mentioned any such news, not once volunteering any observations.
Finally, when I had a free Saturday and remembered that I wanted to hunt down the birds, I grabbed a ladder and climbed into my attic. Then, I realized why he never mentioned that he saw any birds. There were no birds in my attic. Now, I was confused. Where were they?
Once I closed my attic trap-door and put away my ladder I did a perimeter check around my house. I found a hole in my outside wall about 12 feet up. It was about the size of a small apple.
A sparrow fluttered from above and grabbed on to the side of my house. Near that hole in my wall it chirped at me and disappeared, letting the hole swallow him up. Aha! I had misjudged the location of the birds for months.
They weren’t in the attic. Their hole wasn’t that high. Judging by the hole in the wall they were just inside, between the siding and the sheet rock. They were inside the wall!
Like the old hymn says, His Eye is On the Sparrow. Maybe I can pray them out, ask God to relocate them. Surely, it wouldn’t be much trouble for Him. This little brood of birds sure is noisy. It sure would be nice to wake up to peace and quiet once again.
I puzzled over the frustration of watch batteries that die. Taking a sack full of dead watches to a repair shop seemed expensive. My musings led me to wonder if I could repair them myself.
Then, I laid all of my dead watches face down. There were several varieties of ways to remove the back plate. One used a friction-fit back that snapped into place. A sharp knife would be needed to split the seam and pop that back off.
Another used four miniscule screws. I have some jeweler screw drivers that might work for these. Then, there were several varieties of backs that twisted off but need some kind of specialty tool for that job.
I held one of my watches in my hand, put a sharp pocket knife to the seam and pushed. The knife slipped and scratched the back cover. Now, I had made an permanent ugly gash. Sighing, I attempted to ignore it.
I tried again. This time the knife sliced one of the fingers God loaned to me. For a few moments I had to pause, dress that wound and clean up the blood. Yuck!
Then, a thought occured to me. On the internet I ordered a variety watch repair tools. When they showed up in the mail I was ecstatic. Quickly, I went into my office and went to work. I successfully popped, unscrewed or untwisted the backs of several watches.
Then, I chose my favorite outdoor watch to repair first. I replaced the battery and chuckled when the watch came back to life. Finally, I tried to figure out how to replace its snap-back cover.
I laid the watch on my desk and push harder and harder with both thumbs. Rats! The crystal shattered into a thousand pieces! Oh, bother!
I tossed that watch and all of its parts into the garbage can. On to the next watch! Again life was restored with new power. The twist-on back made the finishing repair quite simple. I put that watch on and smiled with satisfaction…fixed it myself!
Three more watches were successfully restored to life. I reset each to the correct time. Then, I strapped each one on my wrist, making me laugh at myself like I was some Big-City-street-vendor hawking knock-off watches.
Now, that I have experience and the tools, does anyone want a battery replaced in their wristwatch? No guarantees but maybe a tongue-in-cheek blog at the very least? Or if I wreck it you have a great excuse to buy yourself a new one!
