From a barren womb

Sarai was barren:  she had no child

Genesis 11:30

Those seven words seem adrift like a lost ship.  They are at odds with the context. They disrupt the poetic cadence of became the father of…  became the father of… became the father of. How sad for Sarai.  She was barren.  The sore thumb. Out of context.  Fruitless.

Don’t give up.  Keep your eye on God.  See what He can do with a barren womb.

From a barren womb He will call something that is not as though it were.

From a barren womb He will demonstrate His power to produce blessings that will bear fruit around the world until the end of time.

From a barren womb He will make good on His promise to crush the head of our accuser and adversary.

From a barren womb He will turn unbelieving laughter into humbling faith.

Are you barren?  Of life?  Of passion?  Of joy?  Of faith?  Of fruit?

When you gather with your brothers and sisters in Christ do you feel out of context?  Like a sore thumb?

Don’t give up.  Keep your eye on God.  See what He can do with a barren life.  Your life.

Never forget… The crushing tragedy of she had no child was ended centuries later when she gave birth to her first-born son and laid Him in a manger.

We serve the same God.

How to waste a beautiful day.

Go the post office.  I spent a year there Friday afternoon.  A very long year.

I bet you didn’t know…

Princess Diana was murdered…by lizards.  Not your run of the mill lizards either.  They are an alien race who hide their reptilian nature beneath a human form.

Isn’t it amazing what you can learn on the internet?  David Icke, a Brit, makes these amazing claims among others.  Like being the son of God.

Anyhow, if you need a good laugh check him out on YouTube.  You see, the Royal family only wanted Princess Diana’s DNA.  Once she gave birth to Prince William they had no further use for her.  So they used mind control to cause her driver to crash on that “tragic” night in a Paris Tunnel.  And don’t you believe for a single second that it was a coincidence the car was driven into the 13th pillar.  I guess the only reason they kept her as long as they did was because she sold so many newspapers for the reptiles in publishing.

According to Icke,  the world is ruled by shape shifting reptilian alien invaders.  To name a few-  The British Royal Family- all reptiles.  The Bush family- all reptiles.  The Clinton’s- all reptiles (I had my suspicions!).

Icke tells the story of a guy who doubted his far-fetched  theory of lizard/humans.  That guy became a believer…the hard way.  At a conference, somewhere or other, this guy became embroiled in a heated exchange with another “man.”  The guy tried to flee by elevator.  However, the other “man” forced his way into the elevator whereupon he shape-shifted into his reptilian form.  Yikes!  Yet he failed to eat the guy.   If I was a reptilian shape-shifting alien I would eat all eyewitnesses.  It’s easier to maintain a conspiracy without eyewitnesses.  In case you didn’t know.

By the way- you would think our reptile rulers would be pro-global warming.  Don’t reptiles perfer heat?  On the other hand, they are alien reptiles so maybe their blood is different.  Just our luck.  Or perhaps that’s why they needed Princess Diana’s DNA.

Meanwhile, I have yet another reason to hate snakes, lizards and such.

Have a great weekend.

P.S.   Our lizard overlords will be none too happy with me once they read this post.  If I die soon have the coroner look for lizard bites on my body.

Tuesday 12 May 2009

I’m not Superman, but if I was my kryptonite would be cloudy days.  Which means I would have been a pretty sorry superhero these last few weeks in Tulsa.  However, I keep trying to see the bright side.  Such as having a working sump pump I installed myself and having such wonderfully vibrant bright green grass in my yard.

This afternoon I rushed around with Amy as we ran errands and readied our house for our Tuesday night hang-out time with the college class.  We’ve got a pretty good routine worked out by now.  One of the things I really love about my wife is her ability and willingness to minister.  She doesn’t even need me.  I left her by herself to play minister and hostess which allowed me to help out with the food pantry at Memorial Drive.

Tonight I learned how to do the paperwork part of our food ministry.  I think I got it, but I’ll probably forget everything I learned by the next time I get to do it.  We’ll see.  Anyway, the really cool part about the evening was the time I got to spend with a couple of the old guys who are part of our church.  Paul and Carol.  Yes, Carol is a guy.  They are fun.  They are wise.  They love to talk.  They love Jesus.  They have great passion for their ministry.  David, Darin, Aaron Taylor and I did a lot of listening.  And a lot of laughing.

Then it was back to my house where we joined the party in progress.  A couple of the girls were trying to watch Dancing with the Stars.  One of the guys switched the channel to that show about dangerous fisherman, or something like that.   He then hid the remote.  The ladies didn’t like that one bit.  He couldn’t stop laughing.  From the amount of noise everyone was making  it wouldn’t have mattered what was on TV because you couldn’t hear anything.  I ignored the goings-on and the card playing so I could eat supper.  Like my time at the food pantry- there was a lot of laughing.

Christians laugh a lot.  I like that.

After everyone left we cleaned the house (again) and brushed our teeth.  It was a good day.

I hope we see a little sun tomorrow.

Row, row, row your boat…

We have had a LOT of rain in Tulsa, OK.  Even when it’s not raining it seems a mist is constantly falling.  Good news- our hugely expensive retaining wall is working just fine.   Bad news- on Friday a sump pump in another part of our back yard failed.  As a result I woke up to several raging rivers roaring at our backdoor.

As I watched my plans for the day gushing past me I decided to deal with the sump pump myself.  That’s a pretty big deal for someone as non-mechanically inclined as myself.  So with a prayer my little car wouldn’t be washed away I headed for a hardware store.  Then another hardware store.  And another.  And another.  Then back to the house to re-measure.  Then back to Home Depot where I finally bought a new sump pump.  For a lot of money.

Once I got everything home I went to work.  In the rain.  Plug this into that.  Screw this in there.  Drats, I need a certain tool.  Back to the store.  Home again.  Attach this.  Yikes, I did it wrong.  Undo everything.  Do this first.  Oh brother, my hacksaw won’t fit in that space.  Not gonna go back to the store.  Set this like so.  Not again!  I’m gonna shoot something if I have to go back to the store.  Where’s my gun?  Back to the store.  Home again.  Yes!  Finally finished.  Wait- what’s that noise?   NO!!!  I can’t believe this.  “Amy, can you run to the store for me?”  She did.

And so it went.  Into the night.  Till I got it right.  I think.  Wouldn’t you know- we haven’t had a hard rain since.  Just that mist stuff.  I hope we get one more deluge before this storm system moves on.  When the heavy rains fall I will be sump side watching my handiwork.  And if it works- and if it’s in the wee hours of the morning – my neighbors just might see me dancing around in my underwear while laughing hysterically like a deranged leprechaun who has just found his pot-o-gold.

Speaking of leprechauns.  Thanks to the drenching rains our lawn is a very pretty lush green.  God is good.

The luckiest man who ever lived.

I will be forty-four on May 8th.  I can tell.  The white in my hair is becoming more obvious.  And it’s been years since I bleached it.  I’ve also noticed, as I’ve blogged before, my face isn’t recovering from a night of sleep as quickly as it once did.  Some of the “sleep-lines” appear to be permanent.  To make matters worse sometimes I will have been awake for hours before I can see my eyes because the bags under them have finally deflated a wee bit.

Speaking of wrinkles.  I’ve developed a hatred for rear-view mirrors.  Is that my forehead  in the mirror’s reflection, or my grandfather’s?  In the rear-view mirror the deep furrows on my brow  have the appearance of a freshly plowed field.  Not to mention the crows feet etched into the skin around my eyes.  It’s little consolation knowing objects are closer than they appear.  Honestly, I’ve quit looking.  When I change lanes these days I grit my teeth and hope for the best.

All is not lost.  Yet.  They say a person’s nose and ears never quit growing.  Which makes me think the only thing that kept the 969 year old Methuselah from achieving lift-off when he flapped his ears was the weight of his nose.  What a bummer.  Or in his case, what a honker.  In my case,  so far so good.  I began with small ears and a small nose so it’ll be awhile before I can provide my own shade.

All of which leads me to revealing my candidate for the luckiest man who ever lived.  Mr. Potato Head.  Think about it- he’s ageless.  The only way his skin can wrinkle, crinkle or crack is by way of a hammer.  Sagging skin?  You would have to microwave him or throw him in a fire.  If Mr. Potato Head doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror all he has to do is detach the offending piece and replace it with one he likes.  No surgery.  No beauty regimen.  No creams.  Snap, snap and he’s a new man.

There’s no one like him.  Not even Barbie or Ken.  If they get tired of the way they look- because it’s the only way they’ve ever looked- they’d have to replace their entire head.  And we all know that’s impossible.

So, on the occasion of my forty-fourth birthday I salute Mr. Potato Head.  For all we know he’s even outlived Methuselah.

Five years. In installments.

This is a big deal to me so I want to write about it.  My time as youth minister at Memorial Drive lasted for four and a half years.  One of the personal goals I had for myself was to stay in a place for five years.  As year four was ending I so wanted to accomplish five years I turned away from an opportunity in another state.  However, if you read my blog you know I wasn’t able to complete five years at Memorial Drive.

That was then.

I’m so happy to report as May begins I have finally completed five years of ministry at Memorial Drive.  It’s just that my five years were done on an installment plan.   I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.  Why?  I can’t say for sure, but it does give me a sense of accomplishment.  I have successfully completed a goal I set for myself when I moved to Tulsa in 1997.  Meeting a goal does leave one with a nice feeling doesn’t it?  Isn’t God great?

God is great.  God is great even when we don’t think He’s great because our life is anything but great at a particular time.  The last six months of my five years were hard won..  I’ll be honest- some of the time I was away from ministry I was not in the mood to win much of anything.  The last six months were possible because others never quit fighting on my behalf.  They never quit believing in me.  They never quit rooting for me.  People like my wife.  Like Terry.  Like Daniel.  Like Jason.  Like my elders.  Like the Memorial Drive church.  The last six months are more about their faith- their prayers- their hopes- their dreams for me.  In regard to me they called things that were not as though they were.  I thank them.

This is now.

Five years of ministry at Memorial Drive.  And counting.

One of the things the church of Christ does so well.

Let me say upfront I know other churches also excel at the following, but I’m more familiar with our story.  I’ve also blogged along these lines before, but it’s worth repeating.

On Thursday our friend Mary Watkins was buried.  The man she chose to speak at her funeral told the gathered crowd, “I am not a professional minister.”  Then David Combs delivered one of the most heartfelt and eloquent funeral sermons I have ever heard.

I grew up in churches that would not have been so open to allowing a non-professional to officiate a funeral.  More to the point the people in the pews probably would not have felt they had divine permission or a qualifying ordination or the annointing to do such a thing.  The line between clergy and laity was clear.  To be honest sometimes I had the feeling the holy men of those churches enjoyed the reverance or celebrity that came with their positions.

I’ve been around preachers who were literally surrounded by bodyguards.  Complete with Secret Service style wires in their ears.  I’ve seen my grandmother tingle with excitement because she was in the physical presence of her then favorite televangelist.  She honestly felt these sort of religious leaders had been struck by a bolt of super-duper Holy Spirit power not available to the common man.  Or woman.

My other set of grandparents attended churches led by priests.  Even their clothes set them apart from everybody else.  As we filed out after services I’ve seen my grandparents assume the posture of supplicants before a mighty king as they passed their priest in the foyer.  It was all hushed tones and bowed heads.

One biblical truth the church of Christ is excellent at living out is the priesthood of believers Jesus ordained with blood.  Mary Watkins was buried by such a man.  A non-professional.  A man who had more in common with a carpenter than with the popular image of priest or preacher.

In the last year of her life Mary Watkins was saved by a priesthood of believers.    None were ordained.  None were anointed.  All are priests.  They didn’t need a middleman because that position has already been filled.  Forever.

Their cathedral was a food pantry.  There on the altar of compassion they acted as direct representatives of Jesus Christ to restore Mary to her rightful place as an heir to the King.  They didn’t need permission to do this.  It was given on Calvary.  They didn’t need special training.  Jesus showed them everything they needed to know about ministry.  Anybody can do it.

David and Lisa Combs-  Two priests the church of Christ is so blessed to have.  A non-professional?  David, you can do my funeral anytime.

The food panty at Memorial Drive (now known as Mary’s Pantry)- Served by an outstanding priesthood of believers just like you and me.  Just the way Jesus wanted it.

Wednesday in Tulsa.

Another beautiful day.  All sun-all day.  Yes!

I like what John Lennon wrote in the song Beautiful Boy.  He said, life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans. Today was one of those days for me.  My plans for the day didn’t survive the morning.  But that’s okay.  One of the things I adore about Kingdom living is the feeling I get that I am living in an action- packed thriller.  I find that energizing.  The lives we live in Christ are definite page turners.  Like a great book.

On the other hand, life outside of Christ is so predictable.  The same well-worn plot is recycled over and over.   It’s love-of-life numbing.  I can see why people try to break up the monotony of their inner lives with substances.  Or the accumulation of possessions.  Or certain behaviors.  Or whatever. Still the end result is almost always a dull read.

Today I have a new reason to love my shepherds.  And my coworkers.  And my church.  We really are a place to start life over.  For everybody.

Memorial Drive is producing some best-sellers this week.  Because of Jesus.

Tuesday in Tulsa.

It was a great day.  We had honest to goodness sunshine all day long.  It’s been awhile.  Today was also good in several other ways.

-  In the morning I ran into more reasons for respecting our youth minister.  He is a great man of God.

-  I had lunch with a member of our church.  His name is Lincoln.  We discussed plans for pursuing a new aspect for the video ministry at MD.  We’d like to film a series of testimonies using our members.  Since neither one of us is very creative in this sort of venture we will need lots of help.  It’ll be great though.

-  Lincoln bought my lunch.  I ate steak.  Thanks Lincoln.

-  After lunch I had a wee bit of time so I went to my chiropractor.  His name is Breck Kausbaum.  If you live in Tulsa and need a chiropractor look no further.  Breck is great.  He offers ministers a substantial and ridiculous discount too.  I paid him with my lunch money.  Thanks again Lincoln.

-  From Brecks office I went to Broken Arrow to meet a young man who used to be part of my youth group.  I haven’t seen him in awhile so it was nice to reconnect.

-  When I was with that friend I ran into another friend whom I haven’t seen since we traveled to Mississippi with Marvin Phillips.  We went there to help John and Maggie Dobbs.  Mainly I tell you this so Trey Morgan will know I hang with Marvin from time to time.

-  Every Tuesday night college kids come over to hang out and play games.  We had a good group this week.

I’m ready for bed.