Grandkids and Root Canal (Don't Get Them Confused)

Our house has become a beehive of activity. Beverly brought our Houston grandkids back to Decatur yesterday. Malaya is with us, as is David. And she brought her brand-new puppy. It's a Maltese-poodle -- and is cute as can be. But I have to watch each step I take, because she loves to cuddle against my feet as I walk. Add to that the fact that every toy known to man is out on our floor -- making our house a virtual minefield.

Oh, and our Memphis family is joining us tonight!

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This afternoon I am going to see my favorite, wonderful, always-so-gentle dentist (I have to lay it on thick because he reads my blog). I will be having a root canal. I've heard horror stories about them, but I'm ready to get it taken care of. And I think dentistry has improved methods of dealing with this -- right, Doc?

Happy Birthday, Jonathan!

Today my YOUNGEST child turns 27! Hard to believe. Happy birthday, Jonathan!

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How about the Rangers? Eleven straight wins. Last night's come-from-behind win was fun. It's a shame they have Tom Hicks' bankruptcy hanging over them right now.

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And an 11-hour tennis match? Of course, they got a night's sleep before the last hour. Ten hours of tennis would be pretty grueling. Makes me feel even sorrier for the loser of the match. He deserves SOMETHING!

Faith

Faith -- what does that mean? I think for me, without even realizing it, faith has meant a system of belief. And yet, that is the 4th meaning in Webster's Dictionary.

Everything in my life is being lived in a post-February 22nd way. And faith has now been stripped down to what I believe Biblical faith is really all about. Webster's 1st definition is "allegiance to . . . a person", and #2 is "belief and trust in God." Those are where my life is being lived now. Like a desperate drowning person holding onto a rope for dear life with no other options to turn to -- that's where I am today.

We have often used Hebrews 11: 1 as a definition of faith. It says, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." I love the verse. But let's be honest: It sounds like a riddle. Does that REALLY tell us what faith is? Sure of what we hope for? Certain of what we do not see? It seems to me that the writer is telling us that faith boils down to a choice. A choice to TRUST. It can't be proved. It can't be diagrammed.

And while faith in God and the gospel is not blind faith -- it is still a choice to trust what we cannot prove. We have many choices. We can choose atheism. Sorry, that takes more blind faith than anything I know of. We can choose Buddhism, or Hinduism, or Islam, etc. As I consider them all, I keep coming back to this simple statement of faith: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." And I CHOOSE to put my faith in that.

Father's Day

Yesterday was a really difficult day for me. Actually, it was brutal. My 1st Father's Day to ever spend without the one who originally bestowed that honor on me. And ironically, my text yesterday was the 5th Commandment: Honor your father and mother. This was a challenge for a couple of reasons. 1. Coming from a dysfunctional family, I find this commandment to be particularly difficult. But 2, it has a promise that if you do honor your parents you will live long in the land. Well, my daughter honored me and Beverly, and she didn't receive the promise. I know there is obviously more meant there than length of life. But when you are where we are right now, things look really different.

Also, today I am officiating at my 1st funeral since Jenny died. As I sat before my Bible late yesterday afternoon trying to come up with words for a grieving family, I was overwhelmed myself with grief. I'm glad no one else was in the office at the time.

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I was blessed to be able to play Champions Golf Club in Houston last week. That course has hosted a U.S. Open, Ryder Cup, and several Players' Championships. It was a real treat.

An Exciting Day!

Today is an exciting day for me. Beverly and I are heading to Houston where I will speak at Bammal Road Church of Christ tonight. Of course, we also get to spend some time with our Houston grandkids.

But the highlight will be after I speak tonight. Malaya, my oldest granddaughter, is in Houston already. And tonight she wants her Grampy to baptize her!

Interesting: Her Grammy was 10 when she was baptized. And I had the honor of baptizing her mom on August 21, 1988 (Beverly and my 12th anniversary). She was also 10. I am confident that Malaya will mature into the spiritual giant that her Grammy and mommy did.

I don't know for sure what Heaven is like. I do know that Scripture says there is rejoicing in Heaven at an event such as tonight's. So I picture my precious daughter, Jenny, rounding up a party in Heaven right now (she always was the organizer). I can't imagine anything that would make her more proud than this.

More on Sabbath

I am almost obsessed right now with the idea of sabbath. I would love to have people share what that looks like for them in their own spiritual journeys. Sad to say, it is almost an unknown discipline among American Christians. We have so bought into our culture's mantra of busyness being a virtue. It has turned into a game of one-upmanship. "I'm busier than you are" -- as if that makes me more valuable. But who would say to someone, "I am less disciplined than you are"? Because in reality, that is what "busyness" really reveals.

Beverly and I have spent some time over the weekend talking about how we can set aside a sabbath time for ourselves. Time of quiet -- to reconnect with God. Can we really set aside a whole day every week for that? I don't know. Right now, we are talking more like an afternoon.

Again, I would love to hear how that works for you, or even ideas you are considering.

Sabbath

What a blessing Beverly and I received last night at her fundraiser. To see the way her ministry is affirmed by our community is so encouraging. And the sensitivity shown to us was gratifying. God has SO affirmed us being where we are.

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I am preaching through the 10 Commandments right now. This week is the 4th Commandment, that pertains to the "Sabbath." When we approach Scripture as if it is a legal document rather than a call to know God, we end up as empty shells of what God intended for us. I think that is true when it comes to this commandment. In fact, the call to "Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy" is the main reason many will say, "We are not under the 10 Commandments any more." It threatens our "meeting on Sunday" doctrine.

Well, we meet on Sunday because it is resurrection day! But to throw out the Sabbath command because we don't meet on Saturday is to miss God's "health care plan" for His people. God knows how we operate. And He knows we need a day of rest. Not more activity crammed into another day, but a day of rest. A day to reorient ourselves to Him.

I don't do very well at this. Even in my leisure, I fill it with activities (often mindless ones like watching TV). What would a day of rest look like? I don't have it figured out yet, but I am going to make this my quest. I would love to hear from you.

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Please pray for our group that left for Ecuador this morning. They will be gone for a week.

Thanks to Good Friends

Tomorrow night Beverly will hold her annual "information and fund-raiser" event. She usually holds it in April, but had decided to forego having one this year. That is, until a few of her dear friends decided that THEY would do it for her. So tomorrow night it will be a done deal.

I am blown away at the friends we have. I know of few things more gratifying. And it leaves me humbled.

The Lord has multiplied Beverly's ministry here in Decatur beyond what I would have ever dreamed. She now has another part-time therapist working with her. And this is all possible because of the generous support of friends and people in Wise County who see the need, and how Beverly is helping to mend lives.

So pray for tomorrow night. Through this ministry, life patterns are changing that will affect generations to come. May the Spirit fill the banquet room with the fragrance of Jesus.

Walking By Faith -- FIRST

Anselm of Canterbury (c. 1033 – 21 April 1109) was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1093 to 1109. He has been called the "Father of scholasticism," which was a movement in the Middle Ages that desired to reconcile Greek philosophy with Christian teachings. He is perhaps best-known as the originator of the "ontological argument" for the existence of God -- a system of logical proof for God's existence.

All that to say this: I have come to really appreciate a prayer he prayed, as over the last few months my nicely-bundled theology has been turned on its head. He once prayed, "I do not try to understand you so that I can trust you. I trust you so I can understand you."

It fits nicely with another quote that resurfaces regularly for me right now. It was advice given to me by a preacher friend. "Learn to be content in the mystery."

Comforting Words From an Old Hymn

William Cowper, a poet and hymn writer from the 18th century, suffered from severe mental illness. He tried to commit suicide. After spending a year in an insane asylum, he moved in with a Christian couple who cared for him. He continued to be plagued by mental illness, which might explain how he could write such great poetry.

The following verse from his most famous hymn, "God Moves in a Mysterious Way," illustrates his confidence, though fragile, in God's kind sovereignty. Although written in old English, it means a lot to me right now.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust Him for His grace;

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,

And scan His work in vain;

God is His own interpreter,

And He will make it plain.

A Feeble Blog Attempt

Every weekday morning I sit before my computer trying to decide whether to blog or not. Right now I am going through a desert period where ideas just don't come. Or maybe it's more like they don't seem too relevant these days. I used to blog about sports every so often, but that just seems empty. Politics? It's a joke. Pretty much all I can think to write about is Jenny and heaven.

So here is a half-hearted try.

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Oh, good. Another Lakers-Celtics final. These teams have won over half of the NBA championships in history. Why even have a regular season?

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Things sure appear to be headed for a war in the Middle East. I pray that will not happen.

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I used to work for the company that was bought out by BP (Amoco Oil). Amoco had a great safety and work record. BP can't say that. They have had fatalities at the very refinery I worked at. And this oil spill is a complete embarrassment. I am all for off-shore drilling, but how about let's have plans in place for when something goes wrong.

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I am not saying that the Obama administration SHOULD be held liable for its handing of this crisis, but I am wondering how the media would be spinning it if Bush were still president.

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Oh, well. There is my feeble attempt at blogging today.

Our Trip to Scotland

We made it back home last night after 10 days in the UK. We had a really nice trip with our friends H. L. and Shirley Ross. They made it more enjoyable for us because they drove, and I would have been a nervous wreck if I had been trying to do that.

They had left several days before us, and picked us up at the airport in Glasgow, Scotland -- which is on the southwest side of the country. From there, we went along the western coast, spending our 2nd night in a B and B on the Isle of Skye. It was a gorgeous island. In fact, I was surprised at how beautiful Scotland is. The gorse is in bloom, and so there are splotches of yellow all over the landscape. And everything is SO green.

From there, we traveled along the north to a B and B (our favorite one) just outside of Inverness, which is in the highlands on the northeast side of the country. Many of the mountains were still snowcapped, and water was still cascading down from the snowmelt. We ate dinner one night in Dingwall, not far from Inverness. It was the headquarters of the Ross clan, and that area was my ancestors' stomping grounds. We learned that the Ross clan was considered to be fierce fighters. In fact, for anyone who has seen Braveheart -- my ancestors helped fight for Scottish independence under William Wallace.

We also were able to locate my grandfather's birth home in Inverness. While there, we visited with the current owner. He said that the building was 180 years old -- which means that to us it was old when my granddad was born there in 1902.

We went to several castles and relived much of the history of Scotland there.

Of course, the highlight of the trip for me was on Sunday, when we went to St. Andrews. We walked the Old Course for 4 hours. We stopped and had communion and prayer together on the 11th tee box. Think about that if you watch the British Open in July. It's a par 3. After walking the course, I really wanted to play it. But it was such a treat. The night before we walked the course, we ate at a restaurant just off the 1st tee and 18th green, and the next day had lunch just up the street.

From there, it was on to London, where we spent a day and a half. From Saturday (Edinburgh Castle) to Tuesday, I bet Beverly and I averaged walking 6 miles a day. We saw many of London's famous sites: Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the River Thames, Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Parliament, Hyde Park. But catch this: About 11:50 on Tuesday, we were walking toward Westminster Abbey, when we saw a bunch of people gathered up and down the streets. From where we were, I could see Big Ben, so I thought, "Oh, they're gathering to hear it chime at noon." We hurried down to join them. It was then that we saw mounted soldiers and marching soldiers coming our way. They were followed by ornate carriages. Only then did we realize that we were standing about 50 feet from the back gate to Buckingham Palace. And guess who was in one of the carriages? THE QUEEN! That's right, we saw the Queen. She had just delivered a speech at the opening of Parliament. What a serendipity that was!

Great trip, but it's always good to be home too.

My Daughter's Voice . . . and Strange Food

I finally got up the courage to listen to a saved message on my phone yesterday. It was from Jenny. She had her sweetest "Dad" voice. She had come across a coupon from Home Depot for hot tubs, and was trying to convince me to buy one. She knew I wouldn't because we had had that conversation a number of times before. But she was teasingly trying to convince me how much we needed it.

Oh, I miss her.

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This will be my last blog for a couple of weeks. We are not taking any computers with us to Scotland. I think H. L., Shirley, Beverly and I will fit right in over there. We all have such a Scottish brogue.

People keep telling me that I need to wear my granddad's kilt. Right. My granddad weighed about 125 pounds and had a 30 inch waist. If I put on his kilt, it would look like an apron.

I have also been asked if I will try Scotland's national dish, haggis. The answer is NO! Someday I may be hungry enough to eat animal guts. But I am not at that point yet. I often wonder how some foods came to be. I mean, imagine the 1st person to eat haggis. "I think I'll dig through this sheep's innards, take out the heart, liver and lungs, mix them with some onions and oatmeal -- and make a pudding. Yum-yum."

I mean, I have been a Texan for 40+ years, and I have never tried menudo. So I don't think I will fly to Europe to eat haggis.

The bravest adventurers when it came to food may be the ones who 1st decided to try mountain oysters. I mean, REALLY! What were they thinking?

Praying the Psalms

This week I have begun praying through the Psalms. I am reading them from The Message. The 1st verse of Psalm 7 has absolutely captured me. I can't get it off my mind. It says, "Go! God! I am running to you for dear life . . ." That SO describes my existence right now.

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Anyone who has followed this blog knows what a huge Jack Bauer fan I am. In my previous life (before this February), violence didn't bother me. Either that or I was in denial. But now, I can't stand to watch life cheapened like that. So while Beverly and I are going to finish out this year's "24," I am kind of glad it will be ending. The episode Monday night was one of the goriest ever. And that is saying a lot for "24."

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I want to refer you to an incredible video clip. Of course I think so because it is my son, Josh. He is beginning a series on the fruit of the Spirit, and so he is going to show this clip. You can download it and watch it at www.sycamoreview.org.

Mother's Day -- A New Tradition

Yesterday (Mother's Day) was a challenging day. In recent years, I have come to realize how difficult this day is for many people.

For some, it is because of the pain of memories of a mother who was toxic. What a challenge it is to honor one who brought such emotional pain.

For others, the day is painful because they WANT to be mothers -- but are unable to.

And for others, it is painful due to loss. And that is where we found ourselves yesterday. In the bitter-sweetness of honoring Beverly and her mom and her sister -- while at the same time our hearts breaking due to Jenny's absence.

The sweetest (yet difficult) part of the day was at 3 PM. That's when we headed to Chili's -- all nine of us. Malaya had told Beverly a couple of days ago that she wanted to start a tradition of going there each Mother's Day to share in Jenny's favorite dessert -- White Chocolate Molten Cake.

It was a sacred moment.

A Royal Priesthood

As our trip to Scotland gets closer (11 more days), I find myself becoming more excited. I also find myself more interested in that Iceland volcano. I hope it will behave itself for a few weeks.

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Today I am going to lunch with my granddaughter. I have been trying to do that once a week for the last few months. She is an incredibly strong person, and I am so proud of her. Today: Chick-fil-a.

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This Sunday I am going to begin a series on the Ten Commandments. As I have read in preparation for this, I was struck by God's words to Israel in Exodus 19: 5: "Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole world is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation."

These words are strikingly similar to Peter's words to us, the new Israel, in 1 Peter 2: 9: "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light."

In both cases, God has called a people to Himself -- not to insulate us from the world. But for us to be priests! To mediate between God and the world.

Israel failed in their calling. They thought "called out" meant isolation.

I'm wondering if we haven't often made the same mistake.

Catching Up on the News

Beverly and I spent late Wednesday night through early Saturday afternoon in Memphis. We had a really good time with our Tennessee family. We went to what I consider to be the best zoo I have ever visited (that even includes San Diego). We ate BBQ (In my opinion, pork barbeque has beef beat). We went horseback riding -- something I have not done in, well, since I got thrown off a horse in Honduras. It was GREAT! That is, until I lost my wallet -- in the middle of the forest. Our gracious host and I got on 4-wheelers and retraced our ride. I had about given up hope of finding it. But sure enough, he found it.

And, of course, our reason for being in Memphis: We stayed for Truitt's 3rd birthday party. It was quite a scene as 20 kids played in the garage while the air sirens went off warning us of tornados.

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We drove back through some heavy rain, but most of it had already passed us. As we drove across the Mississippi River into West Memphis, we saw many houses with water right up to the door. And I really doubt that the water had crested at that time. Really sad.

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It saddens me to hear about another terrorist attempt in New York City. I don't get it. I know terrorists prey on our fears -- but to what end? Their tactics don't endear them to anyone except other terrorist extremist. And I can't think of any terrorist event that has changed our lifestyles -- other than the added security measures now taken. They simply further marginalize themselves from the world with every attempt. And I can hardly think of anything more cowardly than the wholesale killing of innocent people. So I don't get it. But Beverly once told me in respect to another situation that rational people cannot understand the thinking of irrational people.

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Where are you when we need you, Red Adair?

Lament

Tiger and Phil in the same tournament for two straight weeks. This could be interesting.

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Words from John Mark Hicks' book, Yet Will I Trust Him:

Suffering is an intensely personal experience. Others cannot experience what the sufferer at that moment experiences. They cannot understand. The sufferer sits alone . . . Nevertheless, the questions, doubts, and despair of the single sufferer are the same as those of a million sufferers. We all ask, "Why me?" "Why this?" "Why now?" and "Why doesn't God do something?" We all ask, "Where is God?"

Like C. S. Lewis, after the death of his wife of three years, I was not "in much danger of ceasing to believe in God" as much as "coming to believe such dreadful things about Him."

Could Scripture speak to the aching heart? Could it provide a place for lament? I entered a new world, the world of faithful lament. Faithful lament was a new category for me. How can lament, with its accusations, bewilderment, doubt, tears, and frustrations, express faith? Prior to my own personal suffering, lament was unknown to me. Christianity was a faith of joy, celebration, and hopeful anticipation.

My worldview was dominated by triumphalism. God's army will conquer. We will set the world aright. We will establish the perfect church. My outlook had no room for lament.

But my own suffering forced me to lament because the believer, who continues to believe, can only lament in the midst of suffering. Lament, with all its confusion, desperation, and doubt, expresses the sufferer's faith. Lament does not disown God; it appeals to him . . . to rescue the one who has been faithful to him.

I'm Trying

I'm really wanting to blog more right now, but where thoughts used to come to me regularly -- they're just not there. I mean, what's on my mind this morning is: "OK, I got dressed and made it to the office this morning." Not exactly exciting stuff. So I am kind of trying to force it right now.

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The Mavericks are being thoroughly manhandled by the old men down south of here. Dampier is a sad situation. The guy looks like he ought to be able to have his way on the court. But he is a non-factor. Kidd looks his age right now. And Dirk? I REALLY like him, so don't get me wrong. Probably the best big-man shooter ever. But as I have said before, he is not the kind of guy you can ride to a championship.

Again, I am trying to force it right now. Truth be known, after about 3 minutes of watching, my mind has left the building.

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I can't remember if I have mentioned that Beverly and I are gearing up for a trip to Scotland in three weeks. We will be traveling with some friends of ours from Decatur (also named Ross, but no relation other than in Christ). We will locate my grandfather's childhood home in Inverness, stay on the Isle of Skye, visit castles and walk St. Andrews. We will spend a couple of days in London, as well. Our friends were a married truck-driving team, and they have driven in Scotland before. So we will travel the country by car.

Can't wait!

On the Emmaus Walk

It has been two months ago today that Jenny went to be with Jesus. How can something seem like only yesterday, while at the same time being hard to remember life before it?

This week and next week, I am returning to Luke for two final lessons. The account this week is of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. I can honestly say that I can now totally relate to the discouragement they must have felt. They had entered Jerusalem a week before with great hope and anticipation. Much as we entered the hospital hanging on any word of hope. No doubt, that week they experienced ups and downs -- just as we had moments when things looked promising, only to be dashed by setbacks. And finally, like they watched their hopes be snuffed out as Jesus died on the cross -- we experienced the depths of heartache and despair as we watched our baby girl go.

And so their 7-mile walk back to Emmaus must have been torturous. I know. I can remember vividly our walk from the ICU waiting room (our home for 2-1/2 weeks) to the elevators, and leaving the hospital to go to the car. "We had hoped . . ." That was their words as they walked. And it was certainly ours, too.

But Jesus secretly walked with them and listened. And I have no doubt he has done the same with us. And when He revealed Himself to them -- oh, the joy they felt.

I am in that in-between part of the journey. I know He is with me. I know He hears me. But I am anticipating Him revealing Himself to me in all this -- restoring MY hope.