Sixteen To One

 

Sixteen To One

March Madness has begun again and the crowds are back! This is from March 19, 2018.
As I've mentioned, we were just on Spring Break which almost always MAGICALLY coincides with the first week of the NCAA Men's Basketball tournament! During the regular season, I don't watch but the coach in me wakes up from dormancy to catch as many games as I can. I should qualify that last statement. Since I don't have cable or a satellite dish, I'm limited to games that are on CBS. Three days ago, which was Friday, March 16th, I was driving to my nearby fitness center shortly after lunch to get in my afternoon workout. One of the local sports' talk stations, I believe 610 AM, was in the middle of a discussion between three on air personalities. The question was:
"Which is most likely to happen first? A baseball player batting higher than .406, a baseball player going on a 57 game hitting streak, or a 16 seed knocking out a 1 seed in the NCAA tourney?"
If you know your (American ) sports, you know that Ted Williams was the last big leaguer to hit .400 in 1941 and Joe DiMaggio went 56 consecutive contests with at least one hit, also in 1941. Both of those feats have been accomplished, one of the radio announcers mentioned, but a #16 has never beaten a #1 seed since the tournament expanded to sixty-four schools in 1985. I think they spoke of it being a matter of time but the streak was thirty-three years old and the number ones had a record of 135-o versus the sixteens. Maybe it would go on another thirty-three years.... or more! But if you watched at all, you know that streak would be history in a matter of hours as UMBC, a 16 seed, clobbered the overall #1 seed, Virginia. It was a twenty point beat-down with the Retrievers leading by double digits the last seventeen minutes of the game. Most folks' brackets were busted but I don't think most cared. To love sports is to love the concept of the upset and UMCB redefined the word. 

I have to admit, when I first saw the score at halftime, I had to google UMBC. I was pretty sure it was in Michigan/Montana/Missouri/Maryland/Maine/Massachusetts/Mississippi/Minnesota as they are the eight states beginning with M. Turns out UMBC means University of Maryland, Baltimore County. It's only been a college since 1966 and is more prominently known as a collegiate chess powerhouse. Not anymore! My guess is that alumni giving and donations in general will skyrocket in the coming weeks and months! Winning big athletic events pays dividends in a multitude of ways. Without a doubt, applications from high school seniors will spike and the sale of UMBC gear will go through the roof. The school will be googled on a high volume basis, just like I've done several times already. Life has begun changing for UMBC and I hope it will be the most positive change imaginable!

When I ask students to define miracle, they struggle. They give examples- raising the dead, walking on water- but more often than not, they simply tell me things that are overwhelmingly improbable. Flipping a coin and calling it right five thousand times in a row falls into that category but they can't tell me the point where it crosses the line to impossibility. People describe sporting events as almost having divine intervention; remember The Miracle On Ice in the 1980 Winter Olympics? Highly improbable- sure. Unfathomable- maybe. We are very casual with the way we use miraculous and I'm not saying it's bad. I think one  thing that makes life precious and exciting is its unpredictable nature. Good news out of the blue. The unexpected call from a friend we haven't heard from in years. This afternoon, one of my colleagues, Cindi, came by and showed me a document about a reunion from her parents' church in Michigan discovered when going through some old stuff. In the opening paragraph, it was stated that my Great Uncle Wesley, Grandpa Hawley's brother, had been a founder of their congregation. I've known Cindi, her husband, and three kids, who have all been my students, for a dozen years and had no idea our families were connected. That news was the highlight of my day. It came out of nowhere but it made me smile and reminisce. It was not miraculous but it was unforeseen. It wasn't supernatural but I never could have seen it coming. It was just a small interaction reinforcing to me that our lives are much more than our current state of  affairs. We matter in ways we can't begin to comprehend to people who don't know we exist. What seemingly random bit of human nature will delight us tomorrow? Who knows? We got excited about a basketball team we'd never heard of and even though the clock struck midnight Sunday for UMBC versus Kansas State, this Cinderella squad had a ball. And in the process, so did we.

Applicable quote of the day:
Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see. 
C. S. Lewis

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

PBS And Prophecy

 

PBS And Prophecy

Don McLean
Several years ago, I watched a VH1 Behind The Music episode on YouTube about the death of Buddy Holly/Richie Valens/The Big Bopper. Don McLean was interviewed about his tribute to Buddy Holly, American Pie. I knew the song's catch phrase was taken from Holly's hit, That'll Be The Day (That I Die). I didn't know McLean did not specifically dedicate the song to Holly but he did the album and people added up the clues. The following is from January 22, 2006 and is an insight into one of the best songs ever and the fame of McLean which was kept from him for a time

It's fundraising time for the Public Broadcasting Service. That's bad news and good news. The bad news is the programming is interrupted every half hour with pleas for funds, the lifeblood of PBS. The good news is the airing of shows I like during the telethon efforts. Last night's offering was a remembrance of John Denver. One contemporary musician made a great point in the piece. He said there are four or five songs you consistently hear at weddings and two of them were written by Denver. Although not mentioned by name, one is Follow Me. The other wedding standard is Annie's Song, composed in honor of Denver's wife shortly after the couple reconciled from a separation. Annie Denver was interviewed for the special and commented on the song forever linked to her. She mentioned hearing Annie's Song played by strolling violinists in Venice and as elevator music in Japan. The most meaningful rendition the real-life Annie remembers came at the wedding of their daughter. Annie Denver also noted that as the song evolved into a classic, she no longer associated it with herself; it became its own entity.

A year before Annie's Song scored big on the radio charts, Roberta Flack had tremendous success with Killing Me Softly (With His Song.) The song was based on a poem written by unknown folksinger Lori Lieberman who went to see an unknown Don McLean perform at a Los Angeles club. She was blown away by her impressions of the artist who gave us American Pie. Lieberman gave her poetry to song writers who changed it into musical form. She recorded Killing Me Softly but it went nowhere. Several years later on a flight from LA to New York, Flack noticed Lieberman's version on a TWA in-flight entertainment play list and listened on headphones. Instantly falling in love with the ballad, Flack contacted famed producer Quincy Jones who arranged for Roberta to record Killing Me Softly. The result: two Grammy awards for Flack in the categories of Record of the Year and Best Pop Vocal. Not that it matters historically, it was also one of my all-time favorites. I even had Deb Schark buy the album for me- but that is another story.

I can't imagine what it would feel like to have a hit written in your honor, immortalizing your life. There is an interesting note to the Killing Me Softly tribute to Don McLean. When it became the number one record in the US, a friend called McLean and told him he was the subject of the song. He was stunned- he had no idea there was any connection! Part of studying the New Testament is studying Old Testament prophecies and their fulfillment. Isaiah had spoken of the coming work of John the Baptist. Did John know Isaiah was speaking of him directly or that he was the Elijah the Israelites were waiting for? Jesus told the crowds that John was mentioned by Malachi- was John aware of the significance of that verse? Several times, Jesus spoke of prophecies in relation to himself and how they were in the process of coming to pass. But Jesus also told about prophecy that should give us pause. In Mark 7:6, the Lord issues a scathing indictment of hypocritical religious leaders for acting as if they loved God while in reality, their worship was meaningless. Jesus quotes a stinging rebuke from Isaiah and told the Pharisees the words were written about them! That would scare me to death, to think I was the fulfillment of a prophecy of condemnation! The Bible is filled with glimpses of what will happen at the end of time when there will be a separation of good and evil. The scriptures define the sets of those who do God's will and those who do not. Which were written to apply to you and to me? McLean was shocked when he found out what lyrics had been penned about himself. Jesus tells us many will also be shocked on the last day. Will we be in the number confused at their final destination? The apostle John tells us in his first epistle that we can be confident of salvation! That's a good enough assurance for me- I don't like surprises!


Applicable quote of the day:
"Whatever meaning Annie's Song had for me on a personal level, there was also a larger context. It could just as easily been about love for a brother or a father or a friend. It could just as easily have been a prayer." 
John Denver


PS: There is a sad footnote. In spite of the success of the beautiful Annie's Song, Mr. and Mrs. John Denver divorced in the 1980's.


God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Verity

 

Verity

Summers in Nebraska were a big deal for me as a boy. I looked forward primarily to two things: baseball and church camp. As an adult, I miss both of those life changing activities. Sometimes, you meet people you never forget in the process of growing up. I penned this on May 31, 2006.

I've been nostalgic this Spring. Summers have been consistent while living in Houston: basketball camps, ten days with my folks in St. Louis, and my Honduras mission. It's been fifteen years since I set foot in Nebraska- we have no relatives there- so I've revamped my itinerary. Instead of flying, I'll drive to visit my parents and continue on to my hometown. From nowhere, I've developed a compelling need to see cornfields, step on baseball diamonds and basketball courts where I acted out dreams, walk down school hallways, and stand in front of houses we called home.

Summers were special in my low-stress childhood. Besides baseball and trips to grandparents, church camp was the big deal. My dad was a director of Nebraska Youth Camp, a two week get together in Kearney for primarily, but not exclusively, kids from church of Christ families in the Cornhusker State. For two weeks, we lived in cabins without air conditioning bearing names like Apache, Navajo, and Mohawk. For two weeks, we had a vacation from our folks, except mine were in the vicinity. Days were typical. Meals, cabin cleanup, Bible classes, crafts, swimming, capture the flag games, wading in the Platte River, canteen, and a campfire devotional to end the day. There was one other factor; girls. I pretty much stayed away from them in school and my brother's teasing made it mandatory that I keep my distance from girls in our church. Camp was different. You were thrown together with the opposite gender and it was non-threatening to just hang out. Boys and girls coupled off but it was innocent and non-physical, unless you count hand holding. I went through my share of camp flings although I can't remember specifics. There is one girl I recall with perfect clarity. She was at camp for several summers, along with her sister and brothers. They were from Lincoln originally, but had since moved to Denver, I think when their parents divorced. Her name was Verity, the only Verity I have ever known. She was perfect in a sixth grade sort of way. Billy Joel described her flawlessly: "She's got a way about her." I would have been embarrassed to admit I liked her; she had a camp boyfriend. She also seemed to be out of my league, although at twelve I would never have used that terminology. Probably, I acted silly around her; boys do that sort of thing in awkward attempts to convey affection. At camp, you have plenty of time to make impressions, a precursor to life in college. In those two weeks for several years, she left her mark on me. Camp sped by quickly, the fastest fourteen days on the calendar. The Hawleys were always the last to leave, owing to Dad's responsibilities. An empty campground is extremely lonely and going home was a letdown. I returned to the world of direct parental supervision.

I can tell you where I was standing when it came: front yard, 809 East Avenue, (big yellow preacher's house) York, Nebraska, 68467. Out of the blue, it was a letter from her, a week after camp concluded. It was similar to letters I pick up off the floor as a teacher, invariably penned by almost teenage girls. She implied she liked me and ended by saying she would not be at all surprised to go to her mailbox and find a letter from me in the very near future. Guess what I did with it? In my soon-to-be-seventh grade logic, I threw it away. There can be no explanation other than I was a boy. It's doubtful I ever had a bigger crush on a girl and I tossed it into the trash. There were no more letters and I never saw her again. There are few mementos I don't have that I wish I still possessed. I would give anything to own those slips of paper but I'm not sure why it would mean that much. You know what 'verity' means, don't you? Her name means truth. Maybe that's what I'm still looking for, in a not-quite-still-twelve-year-old way. Not the religious truth that Jesus spoke of in John 14:6 but something I can't explain. Maybe I wish sometimes, I was still just a kid in the middle of Nebraska. Maybe that's why I need to go back one more time.

Applicable quote of the day:
"It is one of the paradoxes of American literature that our writers are forever looking back with love and nostalgia at lives they couldn't wait to leave."
Anatole Broyard

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

You Are Now Free To Move Around The Country...But Stay Spread Out

 

You Are Now Free To Move Around The Country...But Stay Spread Out

This is from March 12, 2018 and it details an odd announcement on boarding a plane!
The past three weeks have been ones of grieving for many in my circles of friends, co-workers, believers, and former colleagues. On Sunday, February 18, in the closing announcements of our AM worship time, we were blindsided by the news of the passing of Loa Glenn several hours before. Nothing prepares you for that kind of news. I had known Loa and her husband, Greg, for thirty five years and moved to Houston because of them twenty years ago. Our upper school assistant, Christy McDonald, booked my plane tickets and my rental car for the unexpected journey to Nashville, Tennessee. As usual when traveling domestically, I flew on Southwest Airlines. Before my folks passed away, I was a frequent flyer on Southwest as the Houston to St. Louis drive was simply time prohibitive. Most of my time in the air now is on my way to and from Vietnam for my summer missions on Singapore Airlines, a carrier as different as can be compared to Southwest but they have one thing in common. Both airlines are very good at what they do. Singapore Airlines handles my long (13 hours!) flights while Southwest carries me in two hours from one US city to another. Singapore Airlines has assigned/requested seats while Southwest is first come, first serve. One has luxury meals while one serves peanuts and Diet Coke. But they come together at this juncture- the employees are incredibly helpful and kind to the customers, not what I've found on some domestic airlines. I plan to keep my relationship with both!

As I prepared to return to Houston late Saturday afternoon after an inspiring memorial service and being with friends I hadn't seen in more than a decade, I heard a very odd announcement in the gate as I prepared to board. We, my fellow travelers and I, were informed that our jet was the largest in the Southwest fleet but that we only had fifty-three customers. And so, we were instructed to spread out once we climbed aboard and began the process of choosing our seat according to the Southwest open seating policy. I asked a flight attendant when I was walking up the aisle and she said, and I quote, weights and balances. When every passenger was seated, a voice on the intercom said five people in the front section had to move or we would sit on the runway until they did. BANG! Five quickly moved back! I guess no one wants to sit at a gate on Saturday night when they have places to be!

The next morning in worship, I talked to Kevin, one of our elders who is a pilot for one of the largest airlines. I told Kevin about the experience. He told me that the concentration of passengers used to be done manually but now there is some device which measures the weight distribution. I was shocked by the whole scenario. Almost every flight I'm on is full so maybe I've just never been aware of  this kind of situation before. I was dumbfounded that the relocating of several human beings can have an impact on the ability of a huge jet to navigate the friendly or not so friendly skies. (A colleague last week told me his recent experience flying will lead to his permanent boycotting of a major airline!)

Balance is so important in our lives. Too much emphasis in one area leads to too little care in another. Our kids started spring break Friday at 3:25 PM and they were ready. (So were the teachers!) Their lives are so much more complicated than mine at the same time. They have to balance life in a way I never considered at sixteen or seventeen, or even thirteen or fourteen as may be the case. Sleep goes out the window along with nutrition from eating on the run, or not eating at all. What else is put on the back burner? Physical activity? Friendships? I'm a routine kind of guy. When something prohibits me from my daily schedule, something is sacrificed. I might eat take out instead of making a salad. I might skip a day of lifting or swimming. I might put off a note that needs to be written or a blog which needs to be finished. Every morning, I read the one year bible online and I can catch up if I miss a day. But I can't catch up on prayer, the one part of my day that has the most to do with my balance. The other stuff might take me away from what I feel is my best self but the neglecting of prayer overrides everything else. Jesus went off early in the morning by Himself to pray. That always came first and from what is recorded, He always made time to speak and commune with His Father. Our days are simple compared to His. So many demons to cast out, so many children to bless, so many crowds to feed, so many parables to teach, so many lepers to heal, so many things to do. Life changing, universe altering mountains that had to be climbed for you and me. But He knew where His balance came from and that it could never be delayed or temporarily set aside for more pressing and urgent matters. Two thousand years later, it still rings true. It's a pretty good flight plan, my friends.

Applicable quote of the day:
Just as your car runs more smoothly and requires less energy to go faster and farther when the wheels are in perfect alignment, you perform better when your thoughts, feelings, emotions, goals, and values are in balance.
Brian Tracy

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Lack Of Interest

 

Lack Of Interest

I don't understand the banking system! This is about my own personal struggle with investments, from June 9, 2010.

A little over two months ago, we settled our parents' estate and each sibling received a check. Mine was reduced by $2000 for LASIK surgery which my folks paid for seven years ago, my best investment ever. Without going into detail, the dispersal of funds made me wealthier than I have ever been which is saying little. At Christmas, I spoke with my nephew, Zach, a financial planner, about my finances and making my money work for me. Christian school teachers have no retirement fund to speak of and even though it's years away, I know I need to make some changes past simply depositing my salary into a checking account. So, my first step was opening a savings account, the first one in my name since I was in grade school. After six weeks of this lump sum racking up interest for me, I looked at my bank statement. In the interim, my inheritance had exploded by the incredible total of...38 cents. I knew intellectually interest rates are low but I had no idea there would be that little profit from my investment. Looks like I need to diversify!

One of the best known teachings of Jesus is the Parable of the Talents. You know the story. A master is leaving for a time and gives three servants money to use for him, basing the allotment on their respective abilities. The one with five talents made five more and the one with two also doubled his money. But the one talent servant buried his, venturing neither time nor effort nor risk. The master richly rewards servants 1 and 2 but condemns the last man. Calling him wicked and lazy, the master tells him he should have at least deposited the money with bankers so he could have earned some interest on what he was entrusted with. Instead, he only received back what he had awarded initially, and it wasn't enough. There had to be some proof of the servant being an asset and there was none. 

Do you ever feel like you're the third guy, wasting your gifts from the Lord that were bestowed on you at birth? Does it ever seem like you squander the opportunities or fail to enter the wide open doors the Father has placed in your path? Rarely do I feel like servant A or B. And, I don't really feel like  servant #3 when he buried what the master gave him. Instead, I feel like the third worker had he, as chastised by the master, put his talent in the bank at my current rate of interest. I have this feeling that my interest accrued in the kingdom of heaven approximates the 38 cents on my Chase Bank savings account. I mean, I have something to show but it isn't what it could be. Hebrews 4:13 tells us that, ''Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.'' I will never be saved on my own merit or earn my way into heaven but I know- and you know- that much is expected of the children of the Most High. I can return the investment to our merciful accountant at a higher rate and with larger dividends than I am currently yielding....and we never know how near we are to the final audit. We need to keep our affairs in order. 

Applicable quote of the day:
''Save a little money each month and at the end of the year you'll be surprised at how little you have.''
Ernest Haskin

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Scrapper Nation

 

Scrapper Nation

Nashville, Arkansas  was my favorite place in the world when I was a kid. Their high school football team, the SCRAPPERS, are legendary in Arkansas.Many of my family, including the woman who would become my mom, walked the hallowed halls of NHS. This is from March 1, 2014.

Yesterday, I was dropping my keys into the basket at Chancellor's Tennis Center's front desk, preparing to swim, when I heard a voice calling out to me. I was wearing the shirt seen above in a shot from last July in Can Tho, Vietnam. (I'm only about 6'1" but I'm a giant in Vietnam as I pose with Nguyen on my right and Dat on my left!) A young man, whom I take it is a tennis instructor at Chancellor's, told me he was from Nashville, Arkansas, the proud home of THE SCRAPPERS as my shirt attests. I told him Nashville was my mom's home town. I mentioned my mother's maiden name (Chesshir) and he recognized it. He told me his name but it was not one I was familiar with in Howard County, Arkansas. We shook hands and I left feeling I had made if not a friend at least an acquaintance and it was all because of the shirt.

(Short comedic detour here: One of the funniest interchanges I have ever seen occurred at this very same spot several months ago. I was depositing my keys when a gorgeous woman of Asian descent walked off the adjacent tennis courts. An American guy who was also in the lobby was visibly impressed. He walked up to the lady and obviously hoping to score some points, greeted her with ''你好,'' (Nee how!) Her short and sweet reply- 'I'm Korean.' End of chapter as guy slinks away with any chance of romance dashed in the wink of an ethnically challenged eye.)

There is only one way the tennis instructor made any connection with me and Nashville, Arkansas: he recognized the t-shirt. I could have been wearing Astros or Texans or Red Sox gear and he would  have said nothing. But, he was certain that I in some way was affiliated with this little town in Arkansas. And the amazing thing is that I did not have to say a word. People notice little things about us all the time and we do the same in regards to strangers. I try to be extra careful when I'm wearing Westbury Christian clothes, a point I make constantly with the girls on my team. Jesus talked about His followers being the light of the world/a city on a hill. Well, lights and cities are visible to the naked eye and as I was reminded, so are t-shirts. Visual and verbal clues can be very revealing as to who we are. Peter's Galilean accent gave him away on the night Jesus was betrayed. But in Acts 4, just a short time later chronologically, Peter was recognized as having been with that same Jesus he denied knowing. What assumptions does the world make about me based on how I dress and speak and act?  I can't answer that question. I do know The Nashville Scrappers of Nashville High are known as one of the dominant small town football programs in the state of Arkansas. I hope I am a good ambassador for my relatives still abiding in the home of my ancestors. Shirts don't lie!

Applicable quote of the day:
“Who you looking for
What is his name
you can prob'ly find him
at the football game
it's a small town
you know what I mean
it's a small town, son
and we all support the team”
― James McMurtry

God bless,
Steve/related to conservatively at least 1/2 of Nashville, Arkansas
Luke 18:1

Mom And The Girl In The Checkout Line

 

Mom And The Girl In The Checkout Line

I love driving to Nashville, Arkansas to visit relatives. This is about my favorite relative from that small town. It's from May 10, 2014.

This morning, I made my weekly run to a nearby grocery store to stock up on fruits and vegetables for the coming seven days. My timing was good and I hit one of the checkout lines when it was empty. The young lady, in her early twenties I'm guessing, was extremely pleasant and as she scanned my produce, asked,
 "Are you cooking for your mother tomorrow?"
 I explained my mom had passed away and she quickly apologized. I told her it was not necessary, that Mom had lived a good and long life. She then asked, "Wife?"
No, ma'am.
"Kids?"
No, just me, although I mentioned I work with the Chinese speaking part of our congregation and we eat together after services.
I turned the conversation around.
"How about you?"
She told me she had purchased something for her mom but she was not sure it was going to go over well. She told me her mom wanted the gift to be money but the young lady left me with the very distinct impression that giving her mother cash was a very bad idea. And I immediately felt very sad for her. As I walked out the door, I got the attention of one of the managers, pointed to the young lady, and told him she does a good job. It was the least I could do. I take it she deals with heartache on a daily basis.

As I exited the store, I missed my mom. I missed her because it's Mother's Day tomorrow, the fifth since her death, but that really wasn't why. I miss her because I just had a reminder of how good I had it. I/we had a mom who put the family first, who put her husband before herself, who lived for but not through her kids, and at the top of her priorities was her relationship with God. All her skills and gifts and abilities, and she had many, emanated from the connection with the Lord. She didn't spend much because we didn't have much but she could stretch a dollar like a Slinky. Any cash she might have had went for the well being of the family, the less fortunate, and the works of the Savior so I cannot relate to the young lady at the store. I asked her to hug her mom for me since I can't hug my mom any more and she promised to do so. And I pray the mom likes her daughter's gift, whatever it may be, on the day set aside for all the women who risked death by bringing us into the world. That's the best gift Mom gave me.

Applicable quote of the day, # 1:
"An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy."
Spanish Proverb

Applicable quote of the day, # 2:
"Men are what their mothers made them."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1