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The Twin Creeks Ranch has not seen rain for many months. Even the down pours in Houston have skirted these woods of the Crockett forest. This day would be different.
Two special colleagues and I have planned a retreat. We serve together as the Executive Team of the Dallas Theological Seminary, Houston Campus. Willie is our Executive Director of Church Relations & Chaplain. Ben is our Associate Dean. I have the honor of filling the role as Dean. Together we run the institution.
It has been a fast and furious year. This has also been our first year together. Now, after the commencement season we are going to take a deep collective breath, count our blessings, shore up our mistakes and plan for the future.
A wonderful couple who great friends of the seminary have welcomed us to their ranch. We will stay their in a pristine environment and talk, pray, evaluate and plan. There will be fun times for play too.
We drove to the ranch in the rain. Yes, after a long drought God decided to have us remember our first retreat with the first day of rain for this parched land. We would not be going fishing after all. The firing range would have to wait for another day too. All outdoor activities would be curtailed.
Every item on our program would be ticked off. It made for some outstanding discussion. I could feel our team growing tighter as time passed.
One thing that we did not scrimp on was food. We went out to Denny’s for breakfast before launching our venture. Together we shared what we were currently studying in our personal devotions from the Scriptures. It was a rich time of sharing.
We hit the road and Willie prayed for God’s blessing on our retreat while I drove the route. God was hearing our united souls while on the road. He is the best co-pilot.
Once we arrived at the ranch, our hosts greeted us with warm smiles. They also had laid out a wonderful fare of snacks and beverages that kept us well fed until it was time to head out for dinner.
We are getting very tight as brothers-in-Christ. Our analysis of the past year held nothing back. We rejoiced and puzzled. Our spirits were lifted and burdened as well. Together we experienced something remarkable. This is what team is all about.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
The weather in Texas has now passed the winter season. The low temperatures no longer visit the 30′s. Instead, they hover in the 70′s for a low. It is a sign that swimming in the neighborhood outdoor pool is a welcomed activity.
When I drove into the parking lot, all was quiet. No one else was swimming. That has been the pattern during my visits last year.
That beats the washing machine pool environment at the YMCA in Michigan that I so often laughed about in the past. There were regularly shared lanes with other aqua lovers. Collisions were common.
Here the only sounds are the birds starting their morning flight. Occasionally, I hear a vehicle drive by the activity center. It was time to slip into the water for my season’s first swim.
Like all swimmers, I dipped my foot in to test the temperatures. It was surprisingly pleasant. Nothing like cold waters to wake you up in the morning.
The outdoor shower was a different story. Rules dictate that all swimmers must shower before entering the water. I am a respecter of rules.
No one will ever convince me that the hot water indicator on the shower faucet is actually connected to any hot water source. It is cold! I jump in, holler, shiver and shake. Once I am layered I jump out and chatter my teeth.
Climbing down the steps into the pool is a welcome warm-up exercise. Then, I fall in just to take the immersion all at once. My goggles fit into place and the world becomes clear again. Prescription lenses make swimming much more enjoyable.
I push-off the wall. My aging body loves the sensation of floating without the pain aggravated by gravity. It has been months since I have swum. Now, like riding a bike, the motions of each stroke come alive as if they had never been dormant for a long winter.
Oddly, I feel strong. The water is parting easily in front of me. Each stroke comes with neither pain nor fatigue. I am liking this sensation.
Slowly, my heart rate is increasing. It will be sustained shortly. My breathing is timed with each of my strokes. The coordination between kicking and stroking does not need any concentration. It is a habit from years of being a water dog.
The laps peel away as the sun rises in the East. Warm rays fill the pool and the temperatures rise noticeably. Finally, it is time to hit the shower. It is a very good beginning to another season in the pool of Cinco Ranch.
The weather was beautiful in Michigan. Temperatures were a perfect mid-60′s with sunny skies broken up with an occasional collection of cumulus clouds floating from horizon to horizon. A gentle breeze caused the leaves in the trees to rustle.
My host, a sharp, creative, wise and devoted young pastor picked me up at the Detroit Wayne Airport. Together we laughed, discussed, reported and caught up after years of being apart. There was a lot of shop talk between ministers.
Interspersed in our conversations about our professional comings and goings were reports on our wives, children and common friends. Periodically, I would glance out of the windows to take in the countryside of a state where I had invested over a decade of my life. It is April and the hillsides were covered with lush green grass, foliage on the trees and crystal clear water babbling through the brooks and streams.
Great dialogue made the miles slip by quickly. Soon we rolled up to Gull Lake Ministries near Battle Creek, Michigan. Nestled among the winding roads lined with private homes, a Christian Conference center had its home. This would be the site of the gathering of men that I would be privileged to address.
A few hours passed. Slowly, steadily and surely men arrived. Some traveled alone. Others jammed into cars and then burst out with loud guffaws much to the entertainment of others.
Those in charge of the retreat directed the men to the first venue. Fifty men, all from one church, gathered in the meeting hall. Their pastor led the first session, making the men laugh, tease and almost deliver the kinds of sounds that you only hear at a gathering of men.
Worship was strong. Prayer was intense. The introduction that was given to me was my signal to preach. I did.
There is a phenomenon that we speakers experience in moments like these. It is a sensation that something much bigger than what the eye can see, the ear hear or the body sense. Instead, it was a spiritual amazement.
The men were attentive. After a long week at work and a long drive to camp, these men gave me their undivided attention. God was customizing the presentation of the Scripture to each of these men where they were, based on what they needed and what our heavenly Father knew was coming in their lives. We all wanted to see our lives in Him make a difference and He is going to make that happen.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
The night was interrupted by the howling wind. Darkness shrouded our neighborhood. That was normal, but it was too early.
We were snug in our home. Out of our home the powerful gusts were shaking trees, rattling our windows and whistling through the air.
A storm was passing through Texas. It engulfed our city like a small blip on a massive meteorological doppler radar screen. The thought of assessing property damage in the morning was on my list of things to-do.
Through the night I slept soundly. There was nothing that felt dangerous for us. We were well protected. Even our emergency supplies were in order.
When the sun rose and roused us from our sleep, I chose to scan out of our windows and see if the neighborhood was in good shape. Our street was littered with leaves, branches and few outdoor items from the neighbors. Nothing stood out as major damage.
My bride called me to look into our backyard. The wooden fence between us and our neighbor was hanging by a few bent nails. A slight residual wind rocked the structure back and forth.
I pulled on my boots, donned a jacket and settled a hat on my head. Then, I stepped into the morning air to inspect the damage up close. It was time to call up the repairman.
One of the fence posts had snapped at the base. Finish boards were lying strewn on our lawn. Large gaps were now open and our neighbors dog was eager to explore his new boundaries.
Our neighbor held back her rambunctious canine friend. He squirted out of her grasp and he squeezed through an opening and romped in our yard, thrilled at the availability of the new pasture. It was short-lived; his master grabbed him and tied him up at home.
Just as a temporary fix, she reattached boards to cover up the holes. Her dog whimpered. The boundaries were reset.
My call to the fence company was short. They were inundated with calls. The mighty wind had done a lot of damage in the neighborhood and in our city. This company would be very busy for a long time.
It has been a long time. We have been patient just like the company had asked us to be. Our picture of our fence had drawn their interest. They want to help. For us it is time to bring them in and mend a broken fence.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
There is an oak tree in parking lot of the office where I work. It was one of the first things that captured my attention when I moved to Houston. My move was in the middle of the summer.
Houston is famous for unforgettable summers. Temperatures soar and the human body is baked from sun up to sun down. The bright sun causes everything to sizzle, dry up and disappear.
Add to that the rising humidity and you have a perfect scenario for enjoying the inner comfort of air conditioning. Businesses thrive on attracted overheated customers to flee into their stores for a respite from the outdoor blistering heat and humidity. There is a reason that Houston is often touted as the most air conditioned city in the world.
No matter how much the air conditioning is keeping the house cool, vehicles chilled perfectly, the office pleasant or the shops welcoming, there is the reality that you have to leave any one of these temporary locations and step outside in order to make it to your next destination. Most often it is going from your vehicle to some indoor destination.
That brings me back to that massive oak tree in our office lot. When I first drove to work, it was hot outside. The July temperatures were keeping their world-wide reputation intact.
This might oak cast a broad shadow over our lot. There was one space left for me to claim. It was an easy decision.
No, my truck was not cool at the end of the day but it was a lot better off than sitting under the blazing solar beating all day. I don’t talk to trees or plants for that matter. However, I have often looked up at that towering tree and was grateful that it is there.
When the Texas heat fades into memory and the Autumn begins a new phenomenon occurs. The Oak tree begins to drop its acorns. The squirrels love it.
What the rodents savor, however, brings laughter to us humans. Those acorns are tiny bombs dropped from heights that are by no means dangerous but they are humorous. When they smack against the metal body of my truck they sound like a firecracker being set off.
There are ten months of the year where this tree just grows. It grows slowly waiting to be deeply appreciated when it casts if relief over our parking lot, a place for our vehicles to gather and fend off the brutal heat. ”Thanks, Big Oak.”
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
It was a common day-off. Our schedules corresponded for the same 24 hours of R&R. The start was simply sleeping in with no alarms being set.
I was in the kitchen and cooked up a traditional family breakfast: corn beef hash with poached eggs. The recipe is easy. Making the dish with the right amount of crispy hash sprinkled on top of the serving is the trick.
Together we dined on this wonderful dish while taking in the morning news. Pleasant conversation and not so patient political comments spiced up our morning. Then, I finished up the dishes and made a mental check list of our day’s activities.
Then, we had our individual projects to occupy the earliest hours of our day. It felt great to knock those off one at a time. Soon, my goals for the morning were completely met.
Now, it was time to head out for a drive and handle our together errands. We discussed how we would dress, depending on the temperatures and weather conditions. With a jacket on I stepped outside and shouted into the house with glee, “It’s gorgeous out here!”
During the afternoon, I drove from one objective to the next. Sometimes we went into a shop together. Other times, we were solo with our entries.
When I stayed and waited in the car, I drank in the warm sunny rays. I pushed the open button to our sun roof and enjoyed the opening cover and welcomed the warmth of the sun into our car. A smile beamed from my face when I realized that it was January and there was no reason to be wearing a jacket.
My seat reclined for a perfect view of the skies above. Puffy clouds eased their way from one horizon to the next. Blue
skies were the backdrop to these bearers of atmospheric moisture.
The blazing sun was cooled to a wonderful 71 degrees Fahrenheit. My body relaxed in the warmth of our solar system’s only star. It felt so good.
I remembered the many cold winters in places where I have lived in the past. Here these was no need for a snow blower, no reason to carry traction devices in the vehicle, my down jackets were getting lonely in the closet, my snow boots, snow shoes and gloves were put away in storage. Now, I just wallowed in the heat of God’s wonderfully created sun. I am blessed.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
News of the Tsunami that devastated Thailand on Boxing Day 2004 reached around the world. One of the worst recorded natural disasters had the good will of nations pouring out their aid and the people of the earth passing on their deepest sympathies to the grieving families. Stories of tragedy, heroism and mercy filled the air waves for weeks.
From the hardships of this cataclysmic event emerged an incredible story of a family of five. They were swept up in the horrific waves of the Tsunami. In a matter of minutes, the five were separated and struggling to survive.
Terror and death surrounded them. Each one narrowly missed fatal wounds from the massive amounts of racing debris, snags under the swift currents that would have sucked out their final breath mounted with each moment. When you think that there was a reprieve, there was only more horror.
Another wave would mount its onslaught on the survivors. More would be swept into eternity. Children would be orphaned and parents would no longer see their children.
Disaster movies must be believable. There are too many features in this genre that make a film corny or phony. This was not either.
Here it wasn’t about heroics. It was about blessing. How incredulous would it be for a family of five to be hit by one of the most devastating giant waves with thousands dying around them, yet each one survived and then discovered each other? Getting back together after the pain and trauma is the story.
Why them? What should they consider about their good fortune? Their lives could never be lived the same no matter how hard they tried.
Some things give life pause. We need to consider our fortune. Comparison to others is often unhealthy, meaningless or detrimental. The story calls on all of us to count our blessings.
I wanted a hero. To add one would have made this an action flick. It was certainly not that.
Family devotion and loyalty was at the heart of this amazing story. Resiliency against pain, impossibilities and hopelessness are at every turn in this stunning account.
Out of great loss there is wonder when a blessing can be counted. Their story is one of those that can be counted. There were enough tears and wailing that followed in the aftermath of this monster of a wave.
Prepare to be exhausted. Start counting your blessings when it is done. Wonder at the power of family.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
There is no doubt about it, San Francisco is a beautiful city. The hustle and bustle of the nearly 800,000 residents pour into the streets, heading for work. Another massive movement from around Bay Area crowd the already busy streets with their cars, trucks and public commute on BART, city buses and ferries.
The crowds give personality to this megalopolis. They build the buildings, post the marketing ads and erect the monuments to art. An excitement is here every day of the week.
But, there is view that only a few have the privilege to enjoy. It is the view of the city from the water. Some times it is the tourist on a boat ride who can get this unique perspective.
For me I took it all in from a party boat heading out into the Pacific Ocean for a day of fishing and crabbing. Most on the boat were napping, conversing with friends or getting the gear ready for the deep-sea harvest.
I stood on the aft deck leaning against the rail and taking in the sights. The San Francisco skyline at the dawn of a new day is spectacular. No, I don’t marvel at the architects, instead, for me I wonder at the many friends that I have who work in the city. They are very special people to me.
From a distance I can spot certain areas of town that employ a number of my friends. They were just waking up as our fishing boat motored past the city by the Bay. Nevertheless, I whispered a prayer to the Almighty to bless them. Drive-by prayer really does work.
A large shadow overtook our vessel en route to the Farallon Islands. I looked up and it was the Golden Gate Bridge. We were fast approaching this gateway to the West. The twin towers stood rock solid against the load bearing weight of commuters.
Engineers had built in extra strength not only against the physics of expanse but the sheer force of Creation’s power in the weather: wind, salt water, rain and the occasional earthquake. Triangles are all over the design of this bridge. It is a modern wonder and stands as a testimony of God’s image inside of all who built this fabulous structure.
From the underside the design was aesthetically limited but sound. My geometry classes helped me see why it was constructed this way. It simply added to wonder of this amazing city.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
When it rains in Texas, it rains all at once. It is a cloud burst. You can see it coming, sometimes even sense it coming.
A massive clap of thunder signaled the storm. I was preaching in church when it shook the building. Providentially, it was a perfect spot to declare, “See, God agrees!”
Before the storm passed over, however, we had another surprise. The lights went out. Again, providentially, we lost power in the church between services. Perfect!
But, then it was time to drive home. The clouds were heavy with moisture. I wondered if I would make it home without being caught in a torrential deluge.
Twenty minutes later my question was answered. Massive drops of rain bombarded my windshield. Visibility dropped to a matter of few yards.
Traffic on the freeway slowed to a crawl. Thankfully, I made it to my off ramp safely. But, the weather only made the last part of my commute challenging.
The outside lanes of our neighborhood turned into streams of water. All of the traffic crowded into the center lanes. Once in a while some driver risked getting ahead but regretted it.
A large pickup truck roared past the slowly moving line of vehicles. It had nowhere to go but straight ahead. A huge pool of water blocked its path; he plowed through it.
The waters parted under the wheels of that rig. Massive rooster tail waves of water poured over the two cars next to the truck. He had to slow down to a slow crawl and we all passed him.
I stopped for a necessary errand and was soaked in seconds when I jumped out of my vehicle. But, I only laughed. It’s just water.
On my way home the storm subsided. People could return to normal speeds and activities. The drainage caught up with the excesses.
It wasn’t long after the storm that we drove out for another errand. In the middle of conversation we both looked to the West. The tail end of the storm made a massive exit.
Dark skies lightened up. Blue skies melted the clouds away. Finally, the sun made its appearance at the end of the day.
Sunlight burst out from behind cumulus clouds. Shades of light and shadows changed overhead. It was spectacular.
Maybe in all of life’s trials, there really is a silver lining. Hope springs eternal. Trouble is only temporary.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
Oh, if we could only control the weather. Our lives would be so much more under control if we could schedule the seasonal storms. Or maybe if we could just predict the weather with long-range precision we could easily avoid scheduling delicate plans like plane flights so that delays are non-existent or cancellations are moments of remember ancient history.
We schedule classes to be taught by visiting professors on a weekly basis. As an extension campus we can only finish populating our curriculum with teachers from our main campus 200 miles to the North. That calls for a juggling act of enormous proportions.
But the weather doesn’t always cooperate. In Texas the inclement storms are big. It is the same story no matter where in our country or in the world I have lived, everyone in every culture complain about the weather.
I was in my office creating plans for the next administrative move on our fledgling program here in the great city of Houston. There was someone standing in my office door opening. When I looked up, one of our staff members calmly mentioned that some of our visiting professors were going to be late for class.
That’s when I sat back and recalled the thunderous noise of cascading rain, rumbling thunder and massive flashes of lightning that had deluged our city just hours before. “Rats! Planes will be delayed with this massive storm. No wonder those visiting professors would be delayed.”
This was one of those moments for a short prayer, “God, please watch over the safe arrival of our traveling faculty and students. See them all safely here and safely home. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Rising from my desk I roamed our halls intending to sooth annoyed students. After all they have sacrificed to be here, rushed through traffic from work, chosen to devote hours of their life to prepare for the work that God has given them to do. My mind and heart were ready to take on the brunt of any complaints, listen to frustrations and apologize for the inconveniences.
To my pleasant surprise our students were cheerful. They were understanding. No one was complaining. Whining was non-existent.
Instead, we laughed, joked and teased. Students expressed their assurance that they were looking forward to hearing what their profs had to teach them. Eventually the profs all came and the students were eager to soak up all that they could learn. We have the best students!
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
