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WHAT'S IN A NAME?

5/29/2012

For those of you who like your sermons a little shorter, I thought I would share the following story about a woman named Gladys…

Gladys Dunn recently moved into a retirement community in a small town.

One beautiful Sunday morning she walked down the street to a church not far from her apartment. Gladys was in awe of the big beautiful church building as she stepped inside to attend the worship service.

Gladys however, wasn't too impressed with the sermon. She thought it was kind of boring and, as she looked around the church, she noticed that many of the members were nodding off.

When the preacher finished his sermon he encouraged the congregation to greet those sitting close by. Gladys turned toward the man sitting on her left. He, too, had fallen asleep and was yawning and stretching, trying to wake up.

The man smiled at her, and Gladys returned the smile. She then politely offered her hand to him and said, "I'm Gladys Dunn."

"You and me both, sister!" the man replied.

CEMETERY WATCHMAN

5/27/2012

Here is the story I read this past Sunday morning in my message on Memorial Day. Its authenticity is disputed. (Cf.: http://message.snopes.com/showthread.php?t=12948.)

Nonetheless, it is a powerful illustration of the high price of freedom. Much like the plot of Saving Private Ryan, which is fictional, but based on the true story of Abraham Lincoln and Mrs. Bixby, this piece serves its purpose even if it is fictional.

CEMETERY WATCHMAN

My friend Kevin and I are volunteers at a National cemetery in Oklahoma and put in a few days a month in a 'slightly larger' uniform.

Today had been a long, long day and I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's and have a cold one. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655.

Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the same level - both too high.

I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace. An old woman got out so slowly I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers - about four or five bunches as best I could tell.

I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like crazy and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.

Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey's in time.

I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in Marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.

I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me with an old woman's squint.

'Ma'am, may I assist you in any way?'

She took long enough to answer.

'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'

'My pleasure, ma'am.' (Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.)

She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'

'Vietnam, ma'am. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'

She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'

I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'

She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time.'

'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'

She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked one of the flower bunches out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC, France, 1918.

She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X. Davidson, USMC, 1943.

She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944 .

She paused for a second and more tears flowed. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done.'

I almost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'

She looked confused. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'

I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'

'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't too friendly.'

She headed down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple of stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out and more tears flowed.

'OK, Son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'

'Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'

She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed in action, all marines.'

She stopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't know. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.

I waited for a polite distance to come between us, and then double-timed it over to Kevin, waiting by the car.

'Get to the 'Out' gate quick. I have something I've got to do.'

Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke the rules to get us there down the service road fast. We beat her. She hadn't made it around the rotunda yet.

'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I humped it across the drive to the other post.

When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice: 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'

I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye - full dress attention and a salute that would make his DI proud.

She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for knowing duty, honor and sacrifice far beyond the realm of most.

I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.

Instead of 'The End', just think of 'Taps.'

As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: 'Lord, keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or overseas. Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'

Let's all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before in our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.

Sorry about your monitor; it made mine blurry too! But the point is well made: if we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under!

GETTING IT RIGHT THIS TIME

5/24/2012

As a follow-up to my previous post, it appears that more people were interested in obtaining copies of the two humorous poems I had read last week for Senior Adult Day. So, here they are. Enjoy…

The first one I read…

How do I know, my youth has been spent?
Because my get-up and go, got up and went.
But in spite of all that, I am able to grin.
When I think where, my get-up and go has been.

And the second one…

Old age is golden, I have heard it said.
But sometimes, I wonder as I go to bed.
My ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
Ere sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
I get up each morning, dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits,
If my name is missing, I know I’m not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.

Note: these two poems were from two separate clippings in my old paper files. It appears they may have both originated in a single anonymous poem titled “Young at Heart”, which exists on the internet in various forms.

You can find the many iterations on this one particular site: http://s1.zetaboards.com/MPATHS/topic/4099579/1/.

TO MY CHILDREN

5/23/2012

3 Comments

For all of those who asked, here is the poem I read this past Sunday morning, on Senior Adult Day at church. The author is unknown. The title is:

TO MY CHILDREN

When I spill some food on my nice clean dress,
Or maybe forget to tie my shoe,
Please be patient and perhaps reminisce,
About the many hours I spent with you.

When I taught you how to eat with care,
Plus tying laces and your numbers, too,
Dressing yourself and combing your hair,
Those were precious hours spend with you.

So when I forget what I was about to say,
Just give me a minute of two,
It probably wasn’t important anyway,
And I would much rather listen to you.

If I tell the story one more time,
And you know the ending through and through,
Please remember your first nursery rhyme,
When I rehearsed a hundred times with you.

When my legs are tired and it’s hard to stand,
Or walk the steady pace I would like to do,
Please take me carefully by my hand,
And guide me now as I so often did for you.

Source: http://www.theribbon.com/poetry/tomychildren.asp.

3 Comments

May 21st, 2012

5/21/2012

Yesterday, we celebrated “Prime Time”, or Senior Adult Emphasis Day, at our church. Several people asked about the song I quoted in my message. It is titled: The Green Side of the Grass, and was written by Libby Adams. Ms. Adams’ website is: www.LibbyAllenSongs.com. This particular song is available for sale in mp3 format and can be found here: www.cdbaby/cd/libbyallen13.com; and a YouTube version is available here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dbBfXCMbH4.

THE GREEN SIDE OF THE GRASS

On the other side of fifty,

There is something you should know.

The eyesight fades, the hearing fails,

And when you sneeze, the bladder goes.

The walk becomes a shuffle,

The bathroom is now your friend,

‘Cause without a single warning,

You've got to go again.

The wrinkles in that mirror,

Just can’t be on your face,

You think a stranger’s in the house,

‘Cause your things get out of place.

Arthritis comes to visit,

Gravity takes its toll,

The list of meds is growing,

Just part of getting old.

Look on the bright side…

You’re on the green side of the grass!

You’re not six feet under;

This day is not your last!

Though there may be senior moments,

‘Cause the memory is fading fast,

At least you’re on the green side of the grass!

You wake up with the chickens,

You’re in the bed by eight.

You want your senior discount,

You worry about your weight.

You can’t be in a hurry,

Your pace is like a snail.

The highlight of the morning,

Is when you check the mail.

You eat the early bird special,

‘Cause you don’t drive at night.

And about the hair…

It’s not gray, it’s just gotten light.

You up all hours of the night,

You’ve been told that you snore,

And when your friends ask how you’re doing,

You let them know the score.

So tomorrow if you wake up,

With the pain you just can’t bear,

Lift it up to God above,

And say this simple prayer:

“Lord heal my aching body,

Help my feeble mind,

Handle all of my problems,

Slow the hands of time.

Though I look into the mirror,

And don’t like what I see,

Give me strength, Lord Jesus,

to be everything I can be.”

Look on the bright side…

You’re on the green side of the grass!

You’re not six feet under;

This day is not your last!

Though there may be senior moments,

‘Cause the memory is fading fast,

At least you’re on the green side of the grass!

One day you will be with Jesus,

And your body will be whole.

Look forward to tomorrow,

Don’t worry about getting old.

A WORD ABOUT THE WORD

5/17/2012

Lauren Green recently published an article on FoxNews.com titled “State of the Bible 2012”.

Here are some intriguing excerpts from her article.

The good news about the Good Book is that it's still the No. 1 seller of all time, with an estimated 6 billion copies sold. The not-so-good news though, according to a new survey by The American Bible Society, is that it's lost a bit of its prominence in affecting people's lives.

The "State of the Bible 2012" looked at the trends surrounding the most influential book of Western civilization. The survey found that while 82 percent of Americans revere the Bible as sacred literature, that number is down slightly from a year ago when 86 percent thought so.

And when asked whether The Bible contains "everything a person needs to know to live a meaningful life," 69 percent agreed either strongly or somewhat. That number was down also from the previous year, when 75 percent responded the same way.

One of the challenges the ABS is launching is encouraging people to read the Bible. The survey found that when asked about certain spiritual truths, nearly half (46%) of Americans couldn't differentiate between the teachings of the Bible, the Koran, or the Book of Mormon.

The ABS sees opportunity rather than disappointment in the results.

Lamar Vest, President and CEO of ABS, says, "We do see that as something to be concerned about, but it is still a very high percentage, when you have 82 percent of Americans agreeing on anything. So we're still very pleased about it. We're sorry for the slippage, but still, 82 percent gives us an incredible open door."

Vest says, "There are probably five Bibles on every shelf in American homes. Americans buy the Bibles, they debate the Bible, they love the Bible... they just don't read the Bible."

The survey reveals how much more work is needed to prove to the public that the Bible is not a dusty out of date, rule book. The ABS, says Vest, is not trying to get people to go out and buy new Bibles, just to make good use of the ones they already have.

I applaud both Ms. Green for her story and Mr. Vest for his admonition. To this very day, there are no doubt hundreds and hundreds of millions of people living under oppressive regimes on this planet who would love to have access to a single copy of the Bible. Yet, we who are blessed with so many copies, so many translations, and so many versions of God’s word, along with concordances, commentaries, and the like, seem to care so very little for what we have been given.

We in America are like the man who spends tons of money buying a set of weights, a treadmill, an elliptical machine, and various other accoutrements for exercise, and then sets them all up in his basement, and yet never touches any of them!

This is all very sad, because the power of the Bible is not realized by osmosis. One cannot simply place it on the nightstand and absorb its power by proximity while he or she sleeps. It has to be read, studied, and applied. Unless and until we choose to pick it up and open it up and lap it up, it will do us very little good.

Source: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2012/04/18/state-bible-2012/print#ixzz1uO9XGA7v

MOTHERHOOD: A GLORIOUS CAREER

5/15/2012

Each week, on Fridays, along with about 24,999 others in some 92 countries, I receive an e-mail story from Sandy at her “52 BEST” stories web site (at www.52best.com/). This past week, she included a wonderful story about the importance of motherhood. I thought I would post it here in honor of Mother’s Day.

I was renewing my driver's license at the County Clerk's office and was asked by the woman recorder to state my occupation. I hesitated, uncertain how to classify myself.

"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job?"

"Of course I have a job; I'm a mother."

"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation ... 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about this until one day I found myself in the same situation again, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career-woman: poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title.

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ballpoint pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"

Cooly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already have four credits (all daughters).

Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?); and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers; and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs, I could hear our new experimental model (a 6 month old), in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother".

Motherhood: What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.

- Author Unknown -

THINGS MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME

5/13/2012

Today, we celebrate Mother's Day. Most of us are reminded on this particular day just how much we have to be thankful for in our moms. Where would we be without them?

So, whether your mother be alive today in this world or in the next, it is certainly a good day to take time to remember her for all she has done for you. And also, to offer a prayer of thanks to God on her behalf.

In honor of Mother's Day, I thought I would post the following list. Perhaps you can relate to these twenty-five ...

"THINGS MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME"

1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE .
"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning!"

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet!"

3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL .
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
" Because I said so, that's why!"

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me!"

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."

7. My mother taught me IRONY
"Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about."

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck?!"

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"

15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING .
"You are going to get it when you get home!"

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."

19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on!! Don't you think I know when you are cold?!"

20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT .
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you!!! Do you think you were born in a barn?!"

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."

25. And my favorite: My mother taught me about JUSTICE
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!!"

HOW TO CLEAN THE TOILET

5/10/2012

Several people have asked me recently about my wife's cat. I guess whenever I stop using the hideous beast as a sermon illustration for a while, people get curious as to its status.

In any event, a friend recently shared the following piece with me.  This was simply too much of a time saver not to share it with you.   It will update you on the cat as well as show you.. .

HOW TO CLEAN THE TOILET

1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.

2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.

3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close the lid. You may need to stand on the lid.

4. The cat will self-agitate and make ample suds.  Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.

5. Flush the toilet three or four times.  This provides an added 'power wash and rinse cycle'.

6.   Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.

7.   Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift the lid.

8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off.

9. Congratulations! Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.

Sincerely,
The Dog :)

REAPING WHAT YOU SEW

5/7/2012

My wife’s cousin needs his glasses to see. If he misplaces them, then he is as blind as the proverbial bat. Recently, he was plowing his garden in the back yard with his tractor. As he leaned over to sight the row and follow it with the tractor’s wheel, his glasses slid off of his nose and fell to the ground. Before he could stop the tractor, he had plowed his glasses under and into the ground. He searched and searched but could not find them.

When his wife got home, she got him to the doctor and he secured another pair of glasses. He never did find his other pair of glasses and shortly went on with life. Unbeknownst to him, however, his wife had told his mother about the episode. His mother then waited a few days till she knew he would be at work. She then went done to his house with fifteen or so pairs of old glasses, went out into the garden with its freshly laid off rows, and stuck the glasses all up neatly in a row as if they had been planted. She then tipped Ricky’s wife off about what she had done.

Later on that evening, Ricky’s wife suggested they walk out to the garden and see how it was coming along. When they arrived, Ricky spotted a pair of glasses. “Look,” he said, “there’s my glasses.” About that time, he saw the other glasses all neatly standing up in a row and realized he had been had!

Needless to say, our entire family has had a hardy laugh about this whole episode. And yet, it does illustrate a basic principle in life: we always reap what we sew. One reaps corn when corn is sewn. One reaps wheat when wheat is sewn. Etc., etc… It is a basic law of farming.

What is true in the natural world is also true in the spiritual world. As we go through life, we sew and then we reap. If we sew the fruit of the Spirit, that is what we will reap. If we sew otherwise, our harvest will reflect this as well.

Galatians 6:7-8 tells us that this is a principle that God Himself has set in motion: Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.

In light of this, it behooves us to spend our lives sewing good and not evil, sewing right and not wrong, sewing truth and not falsehood. For if we are not careful, even a small seed of unrighteousness can grow and blossom into a huge bush and fill our lives with the thorns of misery and pain. By the same token, even the smallest seed of righteousness can be used of God to grow into a tremendous blessing for ourselves and others.

As Jesus said in Mark 4:30-32: “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds of the air can perch in its shade.”

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