Steve is my medical doctor. That’s common. Most of us have a medical caregiver that we visit when our body goes awry.

My doctor is very skilled. He is also a friend. When I step into his office we spend as much time talking about our lives as we do going over my medical condition.

My ministry travels take me to parts unknown. During those travels I pick up bugs that take away my energy, make me sneeze or worst of all make my voice disappear. Since I am a speaker, losing my voice is a huge problem.

On one trip I was a long way from home, a bug was creeping after my throat. I called Dr. Steve and explained my symptoms. He diagnosed the problem instantly.

What’s great about Dr. Steve is his concern.  He keeps me healthy for the ministry. He is a delightful cheerleader.

Over the years he knows that I am not a hypochondriac. Rather, I am the typical guy who waits to the last desperate moment to ask for help. In fact if I miss a regular check up he has called my private number just to chat and then casually reminds me that we need to get together.

That kind of familiar care is special. I am a regular customer to Dr. Steve. He knows me. That connection gives me a feeling of confidence and certainty.

James takes this same kind of familiarity and applies it to his instruction on prayer. He teaches us that when we are experiencing troubles we should pray. Take those difficulties to God.

Or when troubles are absent and we are happy we should still go to God in prayer. God loves to hear from His children when their lives are filled with joy. Celebration is as much a part of prayer as pleas for help.

Of course when tragedy visits prayer is expected. The faith learned in the routine of life will fuel those prayers. God promises to answer, to care and to bring healing when prayers offered in faith are given.

At the heart of James’ instruction is something about prayer that we should remember. God has a way of blessing his regular customers. Those who come to God in prayer for everything, forge a relationship that prepares us for those really tough times. God knows us. We know Him. Come to Him often for everything.

James 5.13-16

photo credit: Google image

My family’s favorite Oregon memories were our treks to the Pacific Coast. The Northwest beaches are family friendly. There are only people scattered about every half mile or so.

The shores of these oceans are constantly cold. You need a jacket and hat to be comfortable. But, with the sparse crowds it is easy to keep track of the kids.

My wife and I would settle into sand chairs, read or converse. Occasionally, I would sit up and count our three frolicking children. All were account for so I would settle back into my reading.

One time however, I looked up and something strange caught my attention. There were three children. But, while two were running around one was standing perfectly still.

I got up and trotted down to the water’s edge to see what oddity had occurred. As I got closer, it was easy to assess the situation. I started to fight the emerging smile.

On the Oregon coast there is a lot of sand, sea water and seagulls. One of those seagulls took off for its morning flight. But, it had to lose a lot of ballast.

It released its load in mid-flight. The trajectory resulted in a bull’s-eye right on the side of my son’s head. It was dripping down over his ear, on to his shoulder and dripping off of his arm.

He stood there completely frozen. All he could say was, “Dad, get it off, get it off!”  I tried very hard not to laugh.

I suggested that we make our way back to our camp site and wash off at the water faucet. He did not hesitate. His legs ran as fast as they could.

Naturally, I followed him. While his legs were churning like a propeller on a 300 HP Mercury outboard, everything from his waist up was still locked in the frozen state. Back at the camp all he could do was to wash until he was free of that filth.

This is the picture in my mind when Peter tells us to rid ourselves of all malice,deceit, hypocrisy, envy and slander. The language of this lesson is precise. The meaning of the phrase “ride yourselves” means to wash off filth.

My son wanted nothing to do with that bird bomb. He knew what it was and wanted only to be separated from it.  This is one of those good dirty lessons about life.

photo credit: Bruce Fong Photography

The song “Cats in the Cradle” profoundly moved me before I ever had children. It became one of those moments in life when I made a deep commitment as a future father.  I wanted to make sure that I would be a Promise-keeper to my children. Here are those words.

A child arrived just the other day,
He came to the world in the usual way.
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay.
He learned to walk while I was away.
And he was talking ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew,
He’d say, “I’m gonna be like you, dad.
You know I’m gonna be like you.”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when,
But we’ll get together then.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”

My son turned ten just the other day.
He said, “Thanks for the ball, dad, come on let’s play.
Can you teach me to throw?” I said, “Not today,
I got a lot to do.” He said, “That’s ok.”
And he walked away, but his smile never dimmed,
Said, “I’m gonna be like him, yeah.
You know I’m gonna be like him.”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
“When you coming home, dad?” “I don’t know when,
But we’ll get together then.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”

Well, he came from college just the other day,
So much like a man I just had to say,
“Son, I’m proud of you. Can you sit for a while?”
He shook his head, and he said with a smile,
“What I’d really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later. Can I have them please?”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
“When you coming home, son?” “I don’t know when,
But we’ll get together then, dad.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”

I’ve long since retired and my son’s moved away.
I called him up just the other day.
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind.”
He said, “I’d love to, dad, if I could find the time.
You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kid’s got the flu,
But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad.
It’s been sure nice talking to you.”
And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me,
He’d grown up just like me.
My boy was just like me.

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
“When you coming home, son?” “I don’t know when,
But we’ll get together then, dad.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”

More than elaborate assurances, I determined to be a man of my word.  It is too easy to make good excuses or at least excuses that sound good.  James said it well. Just let your Yes be Yes and your No be No. 

Fancy promises sound more like a salesman trying to make a quick sale.  When we make promises, keep it simple.  Our word is sufficient.

Over time our consistency of character will validate what others are willing to trust.  When we deliver what we say we will, then it is adequate to give others confidence.  What we do with our word of promise will be a legacy that will follow us throughout our lives with the people who we love the most.

James 5.12

My wife and I are complementary partners in parenting our children. We each add a component to the other’s strength in parenting our offspring. It has been fun reminiscing over high points of our legacy investment.

When the children were babies and toddlers, Yvonne was the primary influence in their lives. She was great at the cooing and pampering. But, when they turned into teenagers there was a chemistry that called for a different interaction. I loved the conversation with our growing children.

They all had questions about life, people and faith. None of those explorations ever threatened me or worried me. They are part of the growing process. I relished every conversation that we had.

When our oldest son was in High School he was feeling his emergence into intellectual prowess. He graduated from the largest high school in the state and had the highest SAT scores in his graduating class. Debate was a favorite pastime for him. Of course he tried to pour those new skills into our family discussions.

But, age and treachery has an advantage over youth and inexperience. One evening he was trying his best to dominate the conversation. But, his facts were not holding up nor was his logical argument standing up to objective challenge.

He could feel that his position was eroding. His sister and brother were beginning to snicker, which didn’t help his position. Finally, he burst out, “It’s no fun arguing with you and mom because you two always win.”

To which I replied, “It’s no problem for your Mom and me. We debate you with half of our brains tied behind our backs just to make it fair.”

That’s when the snickers of his sister and brother broke out from supressed chuckling to boisterous laughter. Caught up in the moment and trying valiantly to stem the tide he had a good thought but didn’t quite wordsmith his response, “That’s nothing, I don’t even use my brain!”

Our whole family erupted into one of those explosions of laughter that shook the roof. Sure, he tried to say that was not exactly what he meant to say, but he was laughing too hard to make much of a case for his faux pas.

Laughter and memories are some of life’s greatest treasures that we share with our children. It makes being a Dad one of life’s greatest divine blessings.

photo credit: Bruce Fong Photography

My wife and I were expecting our first-born.  It’s one of those amazing never-to-be-forgotten experiences that alters life.  I was going to be a “Dad.”

Of course we read everything that we could put our hands on.  Every feasible preparation was on our to-do list.  Whether it was medical, transportation or nursery care we had it on our list.

One of the lessons that I learned was that Lemaze training was useless.  We fathers don’t do much of anything significant during the birthing process.  Our greatest contribution according to this method is to teach my wife how to breath in a stressful situation and to feed her ice chips.

When our friends came over for dinner, my wife told me it was time.  That’s when I assured her that I knew that our friends were scheduled to arrive soon.  In fact they had just pulled up in their car. 

That’s when a repeated statement by my wife sent me into a tizzy.  She told me that it was time, time for the baby to come.  Her water had broken.

Panic never gives us a warning.  I raced out of the house, told my guests to make themselves at home and I backed the car out of the garage.  My friends laughed, “Don’t forget Yvonne!”

Up in the labor room, Yvonne was hooked up to monitors.  The doctors and nurses told me that we had plenty of time.  So, I settled in to watch a Bruce Lee Kung Fu film. 

When it was time we went into the delivery room together.  Our daughter was born.  The nurse gathered up that new life.  She congratulated me and exclaimed, “Isn’t she beautiful!” 

Well, no, she looked slimy and purple.  On top of that she looked really angry.  The nurse took away my baby, cleaned her up and brought her back to Yvonne. 

Our daughter began to nurse.  That was the only thing on her mind.  She never stopped to ask for $20.  Nor did she ask to borrow the car on her first night out. 

A newborn baby has on one thing on their mind: food and plenty of it.  No wonder the Apostle Peter chose this metaphor to describe how to hunger for God’s Word.  As a newborn baby craves milk, we are to crave the Word of God.  That day I became a “Dad” and have never forgotten the picture of how to crave what is good.

photo credit: Bruce Fong Photography

This morning I was up early. I was impatient for the day to start.  So, I shut off my alarm off before it had a chance to broadcast its annoying buzz.   

Maybe I was just too eager to start my day. This would be the first time in a long time that I would walk the woods. My life has been too busy and my priorities have eliminated so many of these opportunities.

I packed up my gear, enjoyed a delicious breakfast and made my way to my destination. Bubba waited until the gate to the two-track into the woods was opened. Then, with the all-wheel drive option I rolled into the open field where asphalt, man-made street signs and highway speeds were left far behind.

My eyes chose solid ground. I dodged fallen trees, logs across the little-used route, and straddled gullies. Tall grass passed beneath my chassis.

Then, the world of wildlife unfolded. A flock of Sandhill Cranes stood stately in the grass field. They sounded out a warning with their distinctive calling.

Bubba rolled along without flinching at the Sandhill complaints. They in turn moved away, then rose into the air with their powerful wing beats, still fussing about our threat to their personal space. They are huge birds with remarkable coloring on their heads.

I parked Bubba at the end of the road. When I stepped out of my pickup cab, I paused to get a sense of the weather. That’s when I made my final choices for my woodland clothes.

It was time to smile when a large flock of over fifty Canadian geese flew overhead in a fluid V formation. Their honking was familiar. Each of the birds were handsome with their white eye patch over both sides of their face.

I stepped certainly down the trail. As usual I pause often to look and listen. A sound and movement down at my feet captured my attention. A garter snake was slithering through the carpet of leaves under my feet.

There was a place between the woods and the open field planted with hundreds of acres of soybeans. The sun would set soon for the day. After a few minutes, I gazed on the wonder of the woods.

Deer began to appear out of the woods. It was almost magical. God’s wonder of creation is a stunning sight to absorb.  These graceful creatures were a fitting climax to a day in the woods.

photo credit: Google image

The fragrance that filled the church office today made me drool. After my attention was arrested I then drank in the aroma. Now, my stomach started to growl.

Our office staff just laughed at me. It’s the chili. They had it heating up in the conference room.

This was going to be my first office chili feed since joining the church staff. I smiled at the friendly banter. The feast was on my calendar.

Our pastoral staff meeting ended early. All of us were looking forward to the treat of home-made chili. Add to that the fun that our office staff has and the makings for a delightful noon time break was very inviting.

We gathered at the appointed hour. The table was set with decorative Autumn paper plates. Every seat around the table was filled.

The chili was served. Toppings were passed just like we were a family. Graded cheese, oyster crackers, cornmeal muffins, sour cream, and the all important diced onions decorated everyone’s steaming helping of tasty chili.

Laughter filled in the gaps. Stories led to the laughter. Smiles decked every countenance.

The cheer of our afternoon fellowship would have been more than sufficient. But, a surprise awaited all of us on the pastoral staff. The office staff handed the three of us a card with our names on them.

That’s when they told us that this was pastor appreciation day. I was stunned. Inside the envelope was a nicely appointed greeting card. Each of the staff members wrote a sentiment of encouragement.

They also included a gift card to a local eatery. This was a total surprise. It was simple but heart-felt.

The first thing that I did when I arrived home was to show my wife the card. We both enjoyed the encouragement. It is so nice to be wanted. The affirmation that comes from being honored is a blessing that no words can ever satisfactorily describe.

One of our office staff asked me if I felt appreciated. That was one of the easiest questions that I have ever had to answer. Absolutely, I feel very honored.

Homemade lunch, time invested in the planning, personal words of gratitude handwritten, verbal words of appreciation stated, memories made and prayers lifted up are all valuable priceless gifts given to honor us pastors. My soul was buoyed. This will be a lasting memory. Thanks, girls, for the honor. You blessed us!

photo credit: Google image

It is not often that I  look at a plant for sale. Every plant that I have ever purchased has had a short life span. I’m so consistent at killing anything green, I could testify that the plants audibly beg me to pass them up.

Yeah, who knew that that old fad of talking to your plants has a corollary: them talking back to humans. No, they don’t talk to everyone that walks by and glances their way. But, it seems like they call me a serial chlorophyl killer.

But, this was a unique plant.  It is a Penjing.  That’s the Chinese art form of growing a small tree in a pot.  Many are familiar with the Japanese style called Bonsai.

I took a chance and bought the Penjing plant.  Weeks went by and new growth appeared.  Now, it has been years since my Penjing plant has followed me from place to place.  It reminds me of the kind of life that only God can give.  There is a patience that comes with watching something green that grows. 

God provides the sunshine.  He has created the water that I serve only as a bucket boy for the thirsty flora.  It is a memorial of one of the great lessons of spiritual living.  Patience is a valuable quality that can never be rushed.

James exhorts Christians who are all to be in pursuit of righteousness to exercise this kind of patience.  Just as a farmer patiently works hard but then waits for God to produce the fruit.  Similarly, we all should exercise the same kind of patient waiting. 

That is not a discussion but a mandate.  However, he does not strap us with a millstone around our neck.  He doesn’t give us an impossible task.

He directs us to be patient.  Before we can moan over the burdensome nature of this time restraint, a time limit is identified.  We can target our endurance with patience.  When Jesus Christ returns, our patience can end!  There’s a reason to hope and persevere.

We know that we are NOT being patient when we grumble against each other.  If we yield to the temptation of grumbling James tells us that the coming of Jesus will not be a welcome appearing but instead, He will be our Judge who will adjudicate our grumbling.  Be patient, Christian, especially with people.  Persevere, just until the Lord comes.

James 5.7-9

photo credit: Google image

There’s a new phenomenon that is popping up in my neighborhood. Traffic flow is now embracing a new intersection control measure. Michiganders seem a bit puzzled.

This new addition is called a round-about. At an intersection traffic lights are eliminated. In their place a circle road is placed at the meeting point with a decorative island in the center.

The single most important rule in surviving this newly introduced traffic component is that the vehicles IN the round-about have the right-of-way. All vehicles approaching a round-about must yield to traffic in the circle. I know that many newbies to this change are guessing at the protocol.

Timid drivers stop before entering and are afraid to venture into the fray. You can see their heads whipping back and forth trying to make heads or tails of the apparent chaos. Finally, out of desperation they creep into the circle and are surprised that there are lanes. They switch lanes and wander aimlessly amid the racing cars around them.

Once in the circle you do not stop. Once a newbie stopped in front of me to courteously allow a waiting car to enter the circle. I really didn’t lay on the horn that long. But, Bubba, my full-sized pick-up truck, does have a horn that is appropriate for its size and girth.

Novice drivers think that roundabouts are a test for boldness. They must be thinking that whoever has the guts to jump into the traffic flow deserves the space that they take. I have encountered more than my fair share of those neophytes.

Once in the circle with my motorcycle, a young driver made the wrong assumption. He figured that I would be leaving the circle. That’s when he gunned his dad’s luxary car and pulled right in front of me on my turn.

Did I tell you that I installed an air horn on my bike? It has a decibel rating of 92. Yes, it sounds like Bubba. There’s a saying among motorcyclist, loud air horns with powerful compressors and high electrical amps saves lives.

In a split second I saw the whites of his eyes. My doctor would have been proud of me. I could have also taken a deep throat sample from his gaping mouth.

Telepathically, I urged him never to assume at round-about. The loud thumping was not his custom sound system but his nearly failed heart. I escaped another round-about episode by the wonderful grace of Almighty God.

photo credit: Google image

This was a rare day. I left the office early in order to make it on time for an appointment in town. On my 40 minute commute I wondered if the Lord would bless and answer my first priority prayers for this year.

Our house has been on the market since May. It only took us a month to find a buyer. That is a miracle in itself during this difficult economy.

In our neighborhood alone there are a dozen homes for sale. Half of those homes are foreclosures. Those homes are driving the price of homes lower and lower.

With major shut downs causing unemployment to skyrocket in Michigan the glut of available homes is staggering. We had to compete with those homes in our area. That’s why finding a buyer was such a blessing.

But, the market forced us to sell our house for less than what we owed. That’s after decades of faithful payments. This kind of transaction is called a “short sale.”

A short sale takes an enormous amount of time to complete. The paper work  with the lender calls for a specialist in that field to join our real estate agent. Of course the expense for her services fell on my shoulders.

It took one month to find a qualified buyer but four months to patiently wait for the short sale to be approved. In the mean time the air conditioning unit failed. I had it repaired at my expense. Then, last week the dishwasher failed. Again I had to pay for its repair.

Finally, today after many delays and glitches I drove into the parking lot of our ReMax agent. We met the title company agent, Angie. She had us sign papers until my signature was nearly unrecognizable.

She sat across the table from me with a mountain of paperwork.  In her stack of documents she had everything in order.  She pulled one form after the other, placed it on the table, explained the purpose of the form, and showed me where to sign. 

Most of the papers that I signed were perfunctory but necessary.  However, the one signature that I was looking forward to signing was at the end.  It was the balance sheet legalizing what I still owed to the mortgage company.

I paused to look at this momentous signature.  Our loan is now recorded as ”paid in full.”  We are now debt-free!