A Matter of Time

In less than six hours my 2013 calendars will become obsolete. I knew they day would come, so did they. It was just a matter of time.

Time. A word difficult to define without using the word time. What if it, time, didn’t exist? Not the passing of time or the concept of time but simply the word…time.

You would never have a good time or a hard time.

You would never race against time or finish in the nick of time.

You wouldn’t have all the time in the world or run out of time.

Time would not fly or crawl by.

You would never arrive at the appointed time or for that matter at the same time.

You could never be in the right place at the right time or the wrong place at the wrong time.

You wouldn’t need better luck next time because there wouldn’t be a next time.

You couldn’t buy on time, do time, waste time or give it time.

There wouldn’t be a high time or an about time, a feeding time or killing time.

You couldn’t make good time or make up for lost time.

You would never have time to catch your breath or even tell time.

You would never have time on your hands or reason to call a time out.

There would be no quality time or the sands of time.

You could not take time or take up time.

Time could never be ripe nor could it fly.

Never again would there be a “Once upon a time…”

It was just a matter of time before I realized....

I could never again tell my children or grandchildren, “Maybe next time.”

I could never tell the people I love, “I don’t have time.”

Maybe, just maybe time is overrated.

Standing up

Phil Robertson voiced what he believed. But he wasn’t standing up for what he believes. He wasn’t fighting for a cause. He wasn’t being persecuted and or battling oppressors. In fact it is likely that he lives a pretty comfortable life every day, able to say what he wants. And when he happens to get a line wrong they can just re-shoot the scene; the life of reality television.

But he is not a hero. Members of the Nanle County Christian Church in the Henan Province were beaten by local police and their thugs because if their beliefs. They are heroes.

Missionary Kenneth Bae, an American citizen and Christian was imprisoned by the North Korean government because of his beliefs. He is still in prison, his beliefs unchanged. He is a hero.

I have never watched Phil Robertson’s television show, Duck Dynasty. I understand that it is a pretty good show; in fact they even end the show by praying. Good for them. Having never seen it I don’t know if maybe the show is the Robertson’s mission field. I doubt it, but if it is there probably isn’t a government official waiting to lock the cast away because of what they believe.

Robertson’s words were offensive. Not his belief. I believe in the sanctity of marriage. I believe that God designed man to be with a woman and a woman to be with a man. I also believe that Christ taught us to love, to control our words, to walk in a way that others will see Jesus Christ in our walk. In Mr. Robertson’s words these things cannot be found. I believe him when he says he is a Christian, I can see it in his face and hear it in his voice…but could a non-believer? Could someone who was searching for the truth be inspired by someone whose language is so demeaning? If you did not know that he is a Christian man would you have thought so after hearing his words?

I also believe the behaviors that are offensive to God are sin. We sin only against God, and we seem to do it a lot. We offend others or they offend us and then we are compelled to tell them why. Phil Robertson decided to tell everyone that which offends him, but he did so in an offensive manner. This brings us back around to standing up for what you believe in.

Our freedom of speech is perhaps the greatest freedom we have. Man and women have fought to keep this Right for hundreds of years. As with any other Right we are blessed with the owner of that Right has a responsibility; including the Right to Speech. When a gun owner acts irresponsibly with a weapon there are consequences. If it is egregious he may even void his Right to gun ownership. Being responsible with our freedom of speech, with our words, should be as important to us as any other responsibility we cherish.

The Phil Robertson story will run for a while I suppose until something better comes along. I hope that it goes away before Christmas. You see my friends; if you are a Christian there is no better time to let your light shine than now. The world, your friends, your family, your children…they are all watching you because it is Christmas. They want to know why you smile all the time. They want to know how you are able to go on when problems are abundant. They want to know about this man named Jesus. Let your light shine bright this time of year.

Nothing will turn your light off faster than your words.

Stand up for what you believe in but do it with love. Speak them as if Christ was standing with you, right there by your side…listening.

Because he is.

My Bucket List

I turned 56 years old today. I had a thought early this morning, what if this is the last birthday I will ever have? What if 57 is just the number of states President Obama visited?

So throughout the day I pondered over my Bucket List. There wasn’t much pondering, you see I have never had a Bucket List. So the task last year on my 55^th birthday, was to create my own Bucket List.

I scratched my head and put teeth marks in the proverbial pencil as I mused over what would be number 1 on my list. Minutes then hours passed with nothing rising to the surface. So I changed strategies, I thought about the things that I have already accomplished or have been blessed with, things that may have been on a bucket list if I hadn’t already experienced them.   

Family always comes first to mind. I was born into the most incredible family 56 years ago. I still see them every week, we still talk and hug, and we laugh and cry together. We grow old together.

I have lived in the Great Northwest, the South Pacific, the east coast and the great state of Texas. I have fished for rainbows in the Russian River and went snorkeling along the Coral Reef.

I have served my country and been called a U.S. Marine.

I went to school with Mark Twain and Thomas Edison and tasted college for a short while. I have read Tolstoy, Dickens, Stephen King and the Bible.

I have eaten at the Ritz Carlton and Taco Bell, both on the same day.

I have had money in the bank and I have sold Coke bottles so I could buy a pack of smokes.

I have been high and I have been so low that all I could see was the bottom.

I have run marathons.  I have crawled across the cold floor on hands and knees, unable to stand because of pain.

I have gone from a 34 waist to a 38 waist and back to a 34 waist. (it is okay to applaud here)

My favorite teams have won the Super Bowl, and the Stanley Cup. I have watched a perfect game and caught a foul ball.

I have listened to Vivaldi, Miles Davis and ZZ Top, all in the same afternoon.

I have tasted Opus One in Napa Valley and drank a Lone Star beer with Willie Nelson while sitting in the Recovery Room.

I have seen every episode of Seinfeld at least three times.

I have fallen in love and out of love. I have made love on a beach and on a mountain top.

I have had two wives, two ex-wives and six children. (Maximized the limit on both of these!)

I was with four of my children when they took their first breath.

I was with my father when he took his last.

I have done everything I want to do... almost. At the end of the day my Bucket List only had one thing written on it, you.

I figure if you are reading these words then you and I have at least met somewhere along the way. And I don’t know if I have ever told you the story about Jesus. You see, He is the reason I made it to 56, I know without Him I never would have.

So, on my Bucket List I wrote just one thing,

1)      Tell someone about Jesus.

I think that someone is you, so here goes-

God loves you and me so much, since the very beginning of time. God can see everything from the beginning to the end; everything, every day and everybody in between. God knew that we would never love Him as He loved us, and He knew that would mean separation forever and ever. So God sent His son down from the heavens, down to earth. We called Him Jesus, teacher, King and Messiah, and then we killed Him. And when He died He took all of your sin and all of my sin and He paid the price for them. He paid the price of admission to an eternity with God. He did it for you and me, and He said all you have to do is believe, He would do the rest.

If you were the only one in the entire world, He still would have died for you.

Do you believe?

Thanks for listening. Thanks for helping me finish my Bucket List.

If I were king...

Sometimes the obstacles or challenges we face in life seem to all arrive at the most inconvenient time. If I were king of the world I would decree that we should never have to face more than one challenge at a time. I suppose if I were king I could just as easily decree that no one need face these unfair challenges at all. But as a wise king I know that challenges build character, or so they tell me. My character must be a skyscraper by now.

I was talking to God this morning. I began to wonder how He sees these numerous trials that I am suddenly facing. He is a pretty awesome God, all I had to do is think of the question, I didn’t even ask Him out loud, and He answered me in a way that only the God of the universe can.  An image of just one word developed in my thought furnace. Bold letters in my favorite font, the single word floated above all other thoughts—Small!

Worries, challenges, problems, call them what you like, that seem so large to me look so small to God. Late at night when these problems tower over me, robbing me of sleep, God looks down on them and says “So what? They do not matter. When are you going to learn to trust me?”

Late at night my answer is often, “Tomorrow God.” When I wake up, lacking true rest, the problems are still there.  I forget my late night promise to start trusting tomorrow. Instead I start all over with the worrying and planning. But God doesn’t forget.

Most times slowly and in small portions God starts making the way. Big, medium or small problems start to be not problems at all. On the stage that is my life God is working in the wings. It is incredible how He lines things up so perfectly, without us even realizing, so our worries float away.

Now if I was king I would knock your problems away swiftly and with nuclear power. There would be no waiting or worrying, no sleepless nights. What God does is delicate; He uses other people, circumstances or events to help. He uses others to bless them as he blesses us. What God does is perfect. He makes a better King than I.

I look at our world today and think if I was king I would put an end to the terror, I would stop the hatred and the bigotry. Oh but I know even the mightiest king would fail at such a grand endeavor. So instead I talk to God and tell Him what I think He should do. Arrogance unconstrained! I am sure God has a chuckle each time I endeavor to advise Him!

Yet I don’t stop. You see dear friend I know the majesty of God. I know His power. I know His love. I know that God promised that His Son would return claiming His kingdom. So I point out to Him that now would be a really good time to make good on this promise. I tell Him, “Just look around God, you can see all the problems. You could make them all go away with the breath from your nostrils! With a swipe of your mighty hand you could end evil. “I know that if God sees my problems as Small, then He can see the world’s problems as fleeting and trivial.

 “So come back now! What are you waiting for?” I plea from bended knee.

God answers again, this time with two words—“One more.”

  

The day will surely come when God is waiting on just one more. Just one more to turn towards Him and say “Yes, I believe!” He won’t come back until all who will believe have done so. His love is so great that it would be impossible to leave even one behind. Everything else is so small, nothing else matters to God. Oh to understand a love so great!

On God’s stage we are working in the wings. Are you ready for Him to use you to bring one more to Him? If you are like me, a man who will never be king, then your answer is no. As long as I worry, as long as I lose sleep, as long as I forget to trust…I can’t be ready. 

How about you?

Part 4 continued

With Savalli out of the room Rockrider asked his grandmother, “Do you remember any of the things he has said?”

“Things were different everywhere,” she said, “I try not to remember. “

“Why?” her grandson asked.

Leila answered, “That was the day I lost your grandfather, which is enough to remember.”

“You never talk about what happened to grandpa. Was he killed by the terrorist?” Rockrider didn’t expect her to answer but Savalli’s story had awoken an interest in him that had not been there before.

Leila looked at her grandson. She could see so much of Russell in him. She had never told Rockrider how much he favored his grandfather, not only in appearance but also his personality, his inquisitive nature. How she wished they had known each other.

As he expected she did not answer his question, “If the rain doesn’t stop soon our guest may have to spend the night. Would you bring some blankets up from the cellar, please?”

Another loud clap of thunder signaled that the rain wasn’t ready to stop anytime soon. Savalli entered the room just as Rockrider was standing up. When he saw the old man he sat back down, ready to hear more of this man’s story.

“I feel much better, now where was I?” Savalli said with a smile.

“You were in Vermont.” offered Rockrider.

“And about to tell us about a certain ‘her’.” Leila added.

Savalli smiled, looking at his small audience. “I don’t think I was quite there yet, Vermont or to talk about her. A good story begs the patience of its audience.”

The wind outside intensified, shaking the cottage. A loud crash rang from outside as the wind threw some unknown object against the house. Titus jumped to his feet and barked at the sound. It was Rockrider this time that calmed the dog with words of reassurance.

Savalli asked, “Do we need to check that out, it sounded awfully loud?”

Leila looked at Rockrider, “Do you have any idea what that might have been?”

“Not one that you want to hear. I hope it wasn’t part of the greenhouse. I can’t think of anything else that would be able to make that loud of a sound. Unless it came from somewhere else, the wind is strong enough.” Rockrider continued, hoping to comfort his grandmother, knowing his own suggestion that it may have been part of the greenhouse had disturbed her, “Yeah that’s it. I am sure it must have come from somewhere else.”

Leila thought of the Nivellie,even though the plant was more than twenty years old, she feared its delicate structure would never survive the ravage of this weather if the greenhouse’s protection was even partially torn away. Common sense was the only thing that dampened the sense of urgency to run and check on the greenhouse. If the wind could carry the heavy walls of the greenhouse imagine what it would do to her.

“Maybe we should look; perhaps we can see what it was through a window.” It was Savalli who broke the silence.

Rockrider ran to the front room of the cottage and pulled the heavy drapes away from the front window. The rain ran down the panes in dark rivulets.  Like a small child peering through the frosted window of a Christmas Shoppe Rockrider cupped his hands on either side of his face and placed his nose on the glass. Titus had followed Rockrider into the living room and stood beside him, front paws on the window sill, looking outside.

“Can you see anything” Leila asked.

Thirty seconds passed before Rockrider answered, “I can, but I can’t tell what it is. But I don't think it is not part of the greenhouse.”

“Thank God!” Leila rejoiced.

The old preacher had joined the boy and the dog at the window, “Do you mind if I take a look?” he asked. Rockrider stepped aside and let Savalli take his place. More time passed before the old man said something.

 “Well I’ll be damned. I haven’t seen one of those in years.” He laughed out loud.

“What is it?” Leila and Rockrider both asked at the same time.

“It is an old Schwinn Continental bicycle. Or what’s left of it anyway. I had one just like it many years ago.”

Leila took her turn at the window and saw the old bicycle leaning against the house, positioned as if someone had stood the bike on its handlebars. The rear rim, there was not tire or tube left on it, spun in the wind. For the first time since the storm had begun Leila thought of hurricanes. She had lived through two hurricanes in her lifetime, but none had ever traveled this far in land. She and Russell had been vacationing at Virginia Beach once when a hurricane had unexpectedly turned back towards the coast; it was a vacation she would never forget.

Savalli asked, “Is it your bike?”

“No,” Leila replied, “But I think I know where it came from. There is a Schwinn Museum in Roanoke; the storm must have carried it in.” She was careful not to use the word hurricane, no need to add more worry to the day.

“All the way from Roanoke? That would be on heck of a storm.” Rockrider pointed out.

Savalli, not as concerned about worry said, “There is probably a hurricane, although it seems late in the year for the tropics to churn up such anger.”

Leila waited to see her grandson’s reaction to the little man’s statement. After a minute and no response she decided that it was a good time to change subjects.

“Well I believe you still owe us a story Savalli. Should we return to the kitchen or stay here and enjoy Mother Nature’s show in the background?”

“I was just thinking how comfortable and inviting that overstuffed rocker looks. I vote we stay here.” Savalli said with a smile.

Leila scooted into the kitchen and returned with the water bottles and a tray of cut vegetables. Rockrider prompted Savalli, “So what happened after you learned about the resistance fighters?”

“So you were listening! Very good Rockrider, you will make a good storyteller, the world can never have enough storytellers.”

 Savalli closed his eyes, paused for just a moment and then continued,” The news of fighters brought hope to our camp, but you soon discover that hope alone is not enough when the human spirit, or in this case—spirits, face challenges they are unaccustomed to. Things that we had taken for granted— food, shelter and even bathing had suddenly become scarce. A leader for our own group had not yet materialized. Many turned to me but I am not that man. Yes I had been the pastor of a church, a position of leadership, but a pastor leads by following God and quite honestly it had become increasingly difficult to find God in all that mess.”

Savalli’s voice had cracked on the last few words; Leila saw tears running down the old man’s face. No attempt was made by him to hide them or wipe them away. Behind the tears she could see the pain of loss, the agony of realizing an unwanted truth. She touched his hand, silently comforting and encouraging.

Rockrider asked him, “But you did; didn’t you?”

Savalli looked at the boy, “Did what?”

“Find God.”

“No.” Savalli uttered a small laugh, “He found me.”