The Shower

 

The Shower

Sometimes we make excuses! This is from December 3, 2016.
Thursday night was our annual WCS Winter Choir Concert. The kids, under the direction of David Patterson, did an incredible job! I was there- I make all the middle and upper school fine arts performances. Many of my students were on stage last night and believe me, they know if you are in the audience. A number of them even told me Friday morning what I was wearing and where I was standing! There was even an answer to one of my bonus questions this week:
In what language was Silent Night written? Answer: German (All my choir kids got it right as it was one of the selections!)
Predictably, it was a wonderful evening and equally predictably, the audience put up the chairs and cleaned up before we went home as we always do at Westbury Christian. It's just the tradition.

I have a confession to make. I did not make the 7:00 opening curtain. I came in about 7:12, missing several songs. But it wasn't my fault, even though I don't take that excuse from players or students. At least hear me out! I had my schedule planned down to the minute. I would swim at my fitness club, exiting the water at 6:45, hop in the the shower, get dressed, and drive the three blocks to Westbury Christian in two minutes arriving just as the lights were being dimmed. But something was amiss as I stepped into the very small locker room at my club. It has only one shower and it was running full steam with the curtain drawn. No problem- most guys get in for a minute and wash off the pool water and the smell of bleach. But a minute turned into three and then five and I started to get steamed. I made enough noise so he could hear me. The water kept running unabated. Finally, after at least ten minutes, I made the decision to put my t-shirt and tennis shoes back on, carry my hanging clothes which risked getting contaminated chlorinated residue, and make the 45 second walk back to the main building which has a full size shower area. But as I was about to gather my belongings for the trek to an available shower, I took a risk. I asked, "Anybody in there?" in front of the shower. No response so I repeated the question again and then once again. Silence except for the water spray. You guessed it. I waited ten-plus minutes to get into an empty shower. And I missed a couple of songs that I wanted to hear the kids sing. 

I was mad as I cleaned up and dressed. I was mad that someone would leave the shower running with the curtain drawn- my guess it was probably a little kid as they were having swimming lessons that night. But I was more angry with myself that I wasted that time on something that wasn't real in the first place, and then got mad about it again! That's like many of our problems; there is nothing there to begin with. We make issues out of  thin air. The person we fear is upset with us- they're not. The job situation we are afraid will explode- it doesn't. The health scare we are sure is life threatening- it isn't. That's not to say we don't all face real-life dilemmas and trauma but too often, we just make it harder on ourselves, draining our emotional reserve needed for the actual storms we must navigate. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches how we should handle the stresses of life, in Matthew 6, verse 34:
Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Worry is useless, according to the Savior. I find His teachings here are much easier to accept than to practice. It's the perception of our mind playing out nightmares instead of pleasant daydreams, to see monsters under every bed and in every closet when we try to fall asleep as children. The infamous shower scene in Psycho was shot in black and white and Alfred Hitchcock used chocolate syrup swirling down the drain as Janet Leigh's character died. But moviegoers often swore what they saw on screen was in color and the 'blood' was red. You just can't believe those shower scenes, can you? Oh well- I learned a lesson! Next time, I'll just turn off the light and see if anybody yells at me. It's better than being late! 

Applicable quote of the day:
On an awards-show day, I can play basketball, go in, take a shower and put on a tux - it takes me three minutes to put on a tux - and be out the door in 15 minutes. 
George Clooney

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Theology Of Washing The Car

 

The Theology Of Washing The Car

 

I washed my car after 1250 miles of highway- it needed it! This is from December 23, 2013.
If you read my last night's entry, you know I'm in Wichita, Kansas to spend time with my brothers and their families during the Christmas holidays. I still have quite a bit of Christmas shopping to do- well, all of it to be accurate. But it was nice to sleep in a warm house with a Christmas tree and Dave and Sally, waiting for my nieces and nephews to arrive. I'll move to Scott and Karen's, a mile away, when they return from Iowa seeing her family. This was my second trip to Wichita in the past four weeks as I came for Thanksgiving. It's about 620 miles or so, depending on whether you trust Mapblast or MapQuest more. But it's all good highways and 75 MPH much of the way so it's easy to make good time. I slept for five minutes in an Arby's parking lot outside OKC and stayed wide awake the whole time. Several gallons of coffee helps!

Two days ago, on Saturday afternoon, I washed my car twelve hours before I left Houston. It needed it- it had been several weeks and it has rained three or four times a week for the past several months. (I found a French fry in the back seat. Lizeth or Sydney or Jenna; one of you is in trouble!) When I bought my Honda Fit in April Fools Day of 2010, I washed it religiously and have never taken it to a car wash- I read some places recycle their water and you end up spraying your car with everything that came off other vehicles. But, as the newness has worn off, so have the weekly scrubbings. Still, to start a road trip, you need a clean car so on a overcast day in Harris County, I washed my car. I washed this in spite of knowing the forecast called for lousy weather and road conditions and my car would immediately return to its filthy state as soon as I pulled on 610 North several miles from my home. And that's exactly what happened. By the time I pulled up to Dave and Sally's house, my car was covered with a combination of ice, mud, and whatever they put on the roads to make them passable. Dave's and Sally's cars were in the same shape when they arrived. In fact every car I've seen in Wichita these two days could be ads for off road racing. The Kansas car washes will be very busy when the weather thaws out in a day or two.

I don't know why I felt compelled to wash my car. Maybe it's the psychological edge you feel when pulling out of the driveway with your car looking sharp. But the inevitable grime would soon replace the clean exterior no matter how carefully I could drive. I was thirteen when I was baptized into Jesus by my dad on a spring Sunday morning in York, Nebraska. I don't remember my reaction when I sinned the first time after my immersion. I don't remember if I was shocked or appalled or crestfallen or thrilled to know the blood of the Savior had washed it away from me. It happened again and again and again, etc. I struggle with the amount of sin over the years, like I somehow fear the Lord will tire of forgiving me. That's not a Biblical fear but one Satan is pretty good at selling me. That's why I need Christmas- the reminder that God came in the flesh to save me and you and all of us, no matter how repulsive the image we might see when we look in the mirror. Maybe that's why I wash the car knowing it will revert to its previous state- I need a reminder of how it looks when it's spotless.

Applicable quote of the day:
"I love driving cars, looking at them, cleaning and washing and shining them. I clean 'em inside and outside. I'm very touchy about cars. I don't want anybody leaning on them or closing the door too hard, know what I mean?"
Scott Baio 

God  bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

 

I washed my car after 1250 miles of highway- it needed it! This is from December 23, 2013.
If you read my last night's entry, you know I'm in Wichita, Kansas to spend time with my brothers and their families during the Christmas holidays. I still have quite a bit of Christmas shopping to do- well, all of it to be accurate. But it was nice to sleep in a warm house with a Christmas tree and Dave and Sally, waiting for my nieces and nephews to arrive. I'll move to Scott and Karen's, a mile away, when they return from Iowa seeing her family. This was my second trip to Wichita in the past four weeks as I came for Thanksgiving. It's about 620 miles or so, depending on whether you trust Mapblast or MapQuest more. But it's all good highways and 75 MPH much of the way so it's easy to make good time. I slept for five minutes in an Arby's parking lot outside OKC and stayed wide awake the whole time. Several gallons of coffee helps!

Two days ago, on Saturday afternoon, I washed my car twelve hours before I left Houston. It needed it- it had been several weeks and it has rained three or four times a week for the past several months. (I found a French fry in the back seat. Lizeth or Sydney or Jenna; one of you is in trouble!) When I bought my Honda Fit in April Fools Day of 2010, I washed it religiously and have never taken it to a car wash- I read some places recycle their water and you end up spraying your car with everything that came off other vehicles. But, as the newness has worn off, so have the weekly scrubbings. Still, to start a road trip, you need a clean car so on a overcast day in Harris County, I washed my car. I washed this in spite of knowing the forecast called for lousy weather and road conditions and my car would immediately return to its filthy state as soon as I pulled on 610 North several miles from my home. And that's exactly what happened. By the time I pulled up to Dave and Sally's house, my car was covered with a combination of ice, mud, and whatever they put on the roads to make them passable. Dave's and Sally's cars were in the same shape when they arrived. In fact every car I've seen in Wichita these two days could be ads for off road racing. The Kansas car washes will be very busy when the weather thaws out in a day or two.

I don't know why I felt compelled to wash my car. Maybe it's the psychological edge you feel when pulling out of the driveway with your car looking sharp. But the inevitable grime would soon replace the clean exterior no matter how carefully I could drive. I was thirteen when I was baptized into Jesus by my dad on a spring Sunday morning in York, Nebraska. I don't remember my reaction when I sinned the first time after my immersion. I don't remember if I was shocked or appalled or crestfallen or thrilled to know the blood of the Savior had washed it away from me. It happened again and again and again, etc. I struggle with the amount of sin over the years, like I somehow fear the Lord will tire of forgiving me. That's not a Biblical fear but one Satan is pretty good at selling me. That's why I need Christmas- the reminder that God came in the flesh to save me and you and all of us, no matter how repulsive the image we might see when we look in the mirror. Maybe that's why I wash the car knowing it will revert to its previous state- I need a reminder of how it looks when it's spotless.

Applicable quote of the day:
"I love driving cars, looking at them, cleaning and washing and shining them. I clean 'em inside and outside. I'm very touchy about cars. I don't want anybody leaning on them or closing the door too hard, know what I mean?"
Scott Baio 

God  bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The One Word Answer

 

The One Word Answer

This blog about one of my favorite students is from January 10, 2018!
It was old home week in my classroom today, the first day back after the holidays. Welcome to 2018! A good number of my former students dropped in before they leave for college. Will, Christian, Micah, Tre', and Sam all visited with me. And Jesse, Elly, and Jean also made surprise appearances. Jean, my former teacher's aide and the reason all my teacher's aides select what I wear to school the next day, had to perform that task just one more time this afternoon! Rest assured, I will be presentable on Wednesday. I told my students the nicest gesture they can make towards their teacher is to drop in after they have left the hallowed halls of WCS, or any other school. My day was made by these still youngsters.

The most memorable alumni guest knocked on the door several minutes into eighth period, the last time slot of the day. I have one of my two eighth grade sections then and they had no clue of who the stranger was when Delvin entered the room. Delvin Dickerson graduated in 2012 from WCS. He is back in Houston and remains one of my favorite students ever. He was a terrific basketball player for us and Delvin's collegiate career culminated with his starting for North Carolina Central University against UC-Davis in the first round of the NCAA tournament last March. They lost but according to the Internet, Delvin started all thirty-four games for the Eagles in his senior season. That's a pretty good resume'. (In 2012, I wrote an unusual blog about Delvin which you can read here if you wish!  http://stevehawley.blogspot.com/2012/05/pencil.html)

After he hugged me and filled me in on what he's up to, I introduced him to my middle schoolers. I also asked him the same question I ask many former pupils when they stop by:
"Delvin, if you could tell these students one thing you wish you had known in eighth grade, what would it be?"
Delvin proceeded to give the shortest and best answer possible to that assignment:
"God."
He nailed it in one word. He told them he went to big public schools before coming to Westbury Christian as a junior and how he grew so much spiritually during his two years with us. Delvin reached into his shirt and pulled out the Honduras cross he received six years ago from me; he told the kids, "I never take it off." That was about it. Delvin is planning to be around some so, Lord willing, our paths will cross again before school lets out in May. Maybe he'll visit my eighth graders again.

Here's what I really appreciate about our interchange with Delvin: he replied to a question out of the blue with what was on his heart. He didn't have to gather his thoughts or make sure his wording was exactly right. He didn't go into some sermon or preach at the barely teens sitting before him. Many kids have to leave before they realize what they've learned. The daily lessons go in one ear and out the other. Delvin didn't say our school is perfect- it isn't- but he said it can change a young man's life. I know it changed his and six hours ago, I hope it changed someone else's as well who was in their desks in Room 258. His answer has that kind of power. His answer is the source of power.

Applicable quote of the day:
“There are some questions that shouldn't be asked until a person is mature enough to appreciate the answers.” 

 Anne Bishop

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

No EZ Way Out

 

No EZ Way Out

This is about a frustrating attempt I made to hear my cousin sing. It's from March 12, 2011. PS: I know understand you can drove on the toll roads and they will mail you the bill! PSPS: I now have an EZ Tag!

I had it all planned. As I told you in recent weeks, my second cousin, Caleb Hawley, made some headlines on American Idol, advancing up to the final twenty-four and earning rave reviews along the way. Well, Caleb was performing tonight in Houston so I decided to go. It wasn't close to my place, about forty-five minutes or so depending on the traffic, but I had computer directions courtesy of mapblast.com. Caleb's mom, the wonderful Vicki, e-mailed today from Germany and told me she was happy I was going to be able to see her son. I fueled up the car and even washed it in preparation for my foray across Houston. I had my camera and extra batteries so maybe I could send pictures to Vicki and her husband, my ex-college roommate, Dale, of their youngest performing on stage in Texas. I left my apartment early, making sure I had plenty of time. Two hours of driving, sixty-six miles on the odometer, and eight dollars worth of toll booth charges later, no concert, no Caleb, no pictures to send. You see, the mapblast directions left off one bit of information. To get to the concert, I had to get on the Tomball Parkway. But mapblast assumes the user of the directions has an EZ Tag, which I do not. When I got to the Tomball Parkway, I learned that you could not enter without that EZ Tag. I took another road, I doubled back, I tried to figure out another way from the mapblast printout, I asked directions, but the only thing I found was that without a GPS system, I was sunk. Rarely am I frustrated but this is one of those nights.

Many mornings when I wake up, I ask the Lord for something to write about that day. This seems to be one of those be careful what you ask for lessons. I'm not good at getting around Houston- growing up in Nebraska did not prepare me for motoring around a city of four million. Still, I thought I had everything under control. I vaguely remember a ballgame we traveled to where I could not take my car because of the EZ TAG issue but it never crossed my mind this afternoon. I feel guilty. In the past two days, I emailed both Caleb and his folks and then I don't show. In Proverbs 16, verse 25, Solomon wrote, "There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death." (NASB) I thought I was doing everything right but I didn't end up where I wanted to go or where I was believed I was going. Jesus spoke of the two roads to heaven, one wide and one narrow. In Matthew chapter seven and verse thirteen, the Savior teaches that, "small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." He tells us in John 14 that He is THE WAY and the path to the Father. Unlike the Tomball Parkway, there was no easy pass to provide the road to heaven for us. What a toll He paid for us on the cross. That's the one road I really can't afford to miss. And since I was in absentia for the concert, I'll just have to settle for one of Caleb's CDs. Maybe he'll play Houston again and give me another chance.

To hear Caleb for yourself, please visit his website at http://calebhawley.com/


Applicable quote of the day:
“Discoveries are often made by not following instructions, by going off the main road, by trying the untried.”
Frank Tyger

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Snow Job

 

Snow Job

It was cold in Kansas last week but there was no snow! This is from December 22, 2013.
I did something today I haven't done in a very long time- I shoveled snow. Leaving Houston at 4:20 AM this morning, I made it to Wichita at 3 PM. Overnight saw close to six inches of the white stuff dumped in Dave and Sally's front yard, covering their driveway in a blanket. Interestingly, I got to their house before they did- they had spent the weekend with their kids in Oklahoma City and I beat them to their residence by an hour or so. With a bunch of folks driving in tomorrow, the driveway needed clearing and I had some time on my hands so ......... I went to work. It took me about an hour but it didn't seem that long. Even though the temperature was in the thirties, it didn't seem cold at all. Due to traveling, I wasn't able to swim or lift today but the shoveling turned out to be a terrific substitute.

Do you know what? I had a ball this afternoon! It was so much fun that I almost was sorry to finish. Do you know what else? When I was a kid, I detested shoveling snow. It probably had to do with Dad pulling me out of bed at 6 AM with the words, "It snowed last night." No further explanation was needed- it was my job to make sure the sidewalks surrounding the house at 927 York Avenue, York, Nebraska 68467 were made passable for the world. EVEN ON GAME DAYS MY SENIOR YEAR IN BASKETBALL WHEN WE WERE REALLY GOOD AND I WAS SURE THE YORK DUKE FANS WOULD BE OUTRAGED IF THEY KNEW MY PRE GAME ENERGY WAS BEING SAPPED IN THE PRE DAWN DARKNESS! But today, at my brother's home, with a basketball goal standing forlornly in the driveway, I immensely enjoyed myself.

What was the difference in my attitude besides a few years? Back then, I did it because I was forced to although I did it obediently without grumbling; if you knew our folks, you know grumbling was never a viable option! Today, I did it willingly for the good of others and because it was my idea. Paul addressed motive in 2 Corinthians chapter 8 and verse 12:
For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.
When it was my father's will, it was a burden. But when it was my decision, it was a pleasure. Looking back, I'm glad Dad made me do it- he was teaching me discipline and family obligation under the guise of manual labor. I wish I had been more cheerful toiling in those sub freezing temperatures but there's a maturity level to factor in as well. At least, I eventually figured it out. Just wish Dad had lived to see it!

Applicable quote of the day:
"We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt."

Walter Scott

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

These Eyes

 

These Eyes

I learn so much from my students. This is about two of my favorites and it's from December 19, 2013.
 Wednesday was test day in all of my five academic classes, the last test before we begin reviewing for semester finals which ended today, December 19. I usually give tests on Friday instead of Wednesday so we were off the routine just a bit. And as we always do, when the questioning part of the test was finished, each student made a card. The cards are always for someone who is sick or grieving or in some way needing encouragement. Eight days ago, we wrote a WCS grad, Jonathan Miller, whose father died last week and whose funeral was this past weekend. As is my custom, I told my current students about my former student and showed them FACEBOOK pictures of father and son. Typically, my teacher's aide Megan goes through the cards before we send them but I glanced at several that afternoon after school. I picked up Elizabeth's and read it. The kids make the cards colorful and include a message of hope while telling a little bit about themselves. After several sentences of condolences, this is what this eighth grader shared:
I play basketball. I can't now, though, because I tore a ligament in my foot and I haven't played in a single game. But I notice things that others don't.

She's right. Elizabeth got hurt in early October and has been unable to play or practice since. (Hopefully we will get her back after the Christmas break!) I delivered the cards to the funeral and Jonathan came by WCS on Monday and thanked my students by thanking me. He's made those same cards- the difference this time is he is the recipient. I wished I could have introduced him to Elizabeth but there were other things to talk about, including a card from Bailey which could turn out to be yet another blog! Elizabeth and Jonathan share a great deal in common besides a school and a few teachers. Both are extremely bright and motivated with the blessing of terrific families. I really appreciate what Elizabeth shared with Jonathan, a stranger. She is learning a difficult truth but an enlightening one. She has found out when you stand on the sideline in practice or sit on the bench during games with no chance of being beckoned onto the court- at least yet- your observations have a different level of clarity. When you are physically involved, you focus on yourself and the how am I doing? aspect of the game. But when you can divorce yourself from the action, things become clearer. Like who always plays hard and who is listening/playing attention. Like who is improving day to day and whose emotions are showing up in their effort level. Observing doesn't take the place of playing but it does, well, open your eyes.

From reading the Gospel accounts, we see that Jesus was always observant. He saw situations which went unnoticed and people who were invisible to the naked eye with which most of us view our surroundings. Look at this passage from Luke 21, verses 1 through 4:
21 As Jesus looked up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. 2 He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. 3 “Truly I tell you,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. 4 All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”
The Master saw the rich and the poor, didn't He? I can't say if His men did but they did not make the connection the Savior did. It's hard for us to see others when we are wrapped up in ourselves. We miss the hurting and the lonely we are exhorted by the Gospel to minister to. Elizabeth is aching to come back on the floor- I get an update daily. When she is cleared, she will come back a better teammate, a better friend, a better player in the cerebral sense, all because she has learned to notice things that others don't. I wish they had given me that attribute when I had my Lasik surgery. I would have come away from the surgery as a better coach, a better friend, a better teacher, and a better disciple. And maybe, I could see what Elizabeth means.

Applicable quote of the day:
“The face is a picture of the mind with the eyes as its interpreter.” 
 Cicero

To watch and listen to the Guess Who perform These Eyes, click below!
http://youtu.be/SfcSXmFFVfE

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Baking And Breaking Of Bread

 

The Baking And Breaking Of Bread

I love visiting with my brothers' church! This is from January 5, 2018.
Each year, I typically worship with three different groups of believers; my home congregation in Houston, my adopted Christian family in Vietnam, and the church my brothers/sisters-in-law are part of in Wichita, Kansas. Twice in the past year, I worshiped with churches in the DFW area due to weddings but for the most part, these are the places where I gather on Sundays and Wednesdays with the saints. The past two weeks I spent in Kansas, alternating times with my brothers, including two Sundays and a Wednesday. On the first Sunday, which was Christmas Eve, a rarity happened- I got sick. I wasn't the only one- ten of the fourteen of us at Dave and Sally's caught the bug- but it caused me to stay in bed for worship. Five days ago, New Years' Eve, was the only Sunday worship service I was able to be part of. Dave and Sally and clan by then were in Oklahoma so I sat with Scott and Karen on a bitterly cold Midwestern Lord's Day. I've been there enough over the years to know many faces and more than a few names. They are very friendly, we had a good Bible study and sermon, the communion thoughts were excellent, and we sang hymns of praise joyfully. It was good for us to be there.

I didn't mention that both Dave and Scott are elders of their congregation. In fact, Scott was in charge of opening and closing the service that morning. They have a tradition of baking small loaves of home made bread and giving it to visitors. I've been to several churches that do this and it's a nice touch; baking can be a ministry in and of itself. But usually, the guest is encouraged to pick one up in the lobby before they go home. This past Sunday, they did something new or at least I don't remember it happening this way before. Right before the dismissal prayer, one of the brothers went through the assembly looking for visitors. He was accompanied by a precious little girl carrying, you guessed it, home made loaves of bread. He pointed me out and with a sweet smile, she handed me the delicious treat you see above, which was filled with chocolate chips! I ate the whole thing in one setting when I returned to Houston. Perhaps if Michael's sermon had been about self control......

You can't see it but on the back of the tag on the gift for the guests was the quotation of Jesus from the Sermon of the Mount, "I am the bread of life." In fact, there are numerous references to the Savior and bread in the Scriptures. Satan tempted Him to make it, it was the objective in the Friend At Midnight Parable, Jesus made a bunch of it in two feedings, and He told the crowds they only followed Him because of He gave it to them. (And that is by no means an exhaustive list.) What I liked Sunday was the way the church handled the distribution. I'm an introvert and if it's up to me to go and ask for something from a stranger, I'll go hungry instead. But they were searching for me and the others of my kind. (Part of me is hurt a bit that I'm still considered a guest in spite of my many visits!) They didn't embarrass those who might have been there the first time, always a dread I have when visiting. They were gracious and kind and thoughtful, just like all of us should be in our interactions, with those inside and outside our religious communities. It also made me conscious that I'm not sure I could identify exactly who is and who isn't a member of my congregation, something for me to work on! I don't make resolutions but I will take a public vow: I promise that I WILL return to East Point some future Sunday morning but it won't be for the bread. Well, maybe just a little bit.

Applicable quote of the day:
“Bread for myself is a material question. Bread for my neighbor is a spiritual one.” 
Nikoli Berdyaev

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1