Washed In The Blood

 

Washed In The Blood

During the past week or so, I've cleaned out my Honda Fit in preparation for basketball season. You see, my middle school girls' team carpools and I wanted it to be nice for the kids riding with me. This is about the newness of that car wearing off...and my own sin. It is from April 25, 2010.

I told you early in April that I was the proud owner of a new Honda Fit. The dispersing of the money from our parents' will allowed me for the first and maybe only time in my life to purchase a new vehicle with no interest. Lord willing, I'll enjoy it for the next ten-twelve years without thinking about car payments. My sister-in-law, Karen, gave me several car air fresheners in my Christmas stocking but my teacher aides (Hanna and Chelsey) say I shouldn't use them because my Honda still has the new smell. I hope that lasts awhile.

I owned my Toyota Corolla for almost seven years but it was three years old when I bought it. After a month or so, I never washed it- you can't see dirt on beige colored cars anyway. This time, I determined to spend time keeping my car clean, inside and out. I went to Wal-Mart and picked up some Armor All cleaning products along with a special washing sponge and a special micro fiber drying towel. I even googled the best way to wash a new car; never when the car is hot, always out of the sun, start at the top, no ammonia on tinted windows, never let it air dry, etc. And so, yesterday morning, I gave my Honda its first bath and I think I did a pretty good job.

Well, I thought I did a good job until I saw it out in the sun later in the day. There were places I missed and even with the Armor All window cleaning wipes, I saw streaks and water spots. My new car doesn't look brand new any more, even though I'm doing my best. This is the bad thing: I have to admit that it bothers me. All those little imperfections are drawing my attention even though I am trying to ignore them. It was so perfect on the lot of Russell and Smith Honda just twenty-two days ago. Now, its flaws are evident and I'm distracted.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see my Honda all over again. I'm not referencing the physical mirror but the spiritual glass. Every little sin and flaw jumps out at me. Every careless word and deliberate thought better left unthought rears their ugly heads. I want the newness I felt as a newborn Christian. I recall the line from the hymn we sang when I was a kid, O For A Closer Walk With God:
Where is the blessedness I knew, when first I saw the Lord?
Where is the soul refreshing view of Jesus and His word?
But we don't stay newborns forever, just like all new cars become used cars as soon as you drive them off the lot. Even though I struggle with sin and my disappointment with myself, I know there is hope. First John 1:7 tells us that, ''If we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another and the blood of Jesus, His Son, purifies us from all sin.'' (NIV) 
The Lord sees me like I saw that Honda the first time, new and perfect and unmarked. Scholars tell us that action of purification in 1 John is ongoing and continual, or as I've heard it, like windshield wipers. The grime and scars of this world won't stick to me because their constantly being washed away by the blood of Jesus. So, I'll never have to check the Kelly Blue Book value of my soul, in spite of my own at times self loathing: I know the price that was paid for me is still valid. I'll be new until the day I die.

Applicable quote of the day:
''There is a spiritual hunger in the world today- and it cannot be satisfied by better cars on longer credit terms.''
Adlai Stevenson

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

MORE Personal I AM Statements, ACT II

 

MORE Personal I AM Statements, ACT II

This is from November 7, 2022.

 

My classes this week finished studying the seven I AM statements Jesus made in the Gospel of John. If you aren't familiar with them, here they are!

I am the bread of life.

I am the true vine.
I am the good shepherd.
I am the gate for the sheep.
I am the light of the world.
I am the resurrection and the life.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.

I gave my students the assignment of coming up with their own I AM statements which would define them. Tonight, I am posting some of them, a combination of middle and high school kids, grades 8-12. They are brutally honest and all are used with permission; boys in blue and girls in pink!
I am the girl who just wants a relationship.
I am the boy who thinks about random things.
I am the boy who knows right from wrong but chooses wrong with guilt,

I am the boy who doesn't like being shown affection.
I am the boy who just wants people to check up on me.
I am the boy who has learned too much about society.
I am the boy who loves his dad much more than he thinks.
I am the girl from a tough but loving family.
I am the boy who wants to be left alone.
I am the girl who thinks about what life would be if her parents had stayed together.
I am the boy who loves being alone hates feeling alone.
I am the girl who wants to be in a world that doesn't exist.
I am the boy who always feels embarrassed.

I am the boy who is always loud.
I am the daughter of regrettable actions.
I am the daughter of a hopelessly romantic mother.
I am the boy who completely understands the topic in class but makes a 60 on the test.
I am the boy who will step up when needed.
I am the girl who is only a concept.
I am the girl trapped inside a false reality.
I am the boy who is scared to turn 18.
I am the boy with more materials than his best friend but less on the inside.
I am the boy who lost everyone and everything he loved.
I am the girl who is afraid to be thought of as dumb.
I am the sibling least likely to succeed.
I am the student who feels beyond mentally drained.

I am the girl who is always trying to grow and improve!

I will post some more of these in the coming days. Please keep this generation in your prayers. They seem to be more in despair than in years past but I see so much good in them!

God bless,
Steve/Coach
Luke 18:1

Labor Of Love

 

Labor Of Love

This is about NFL great Brett Favre and singer Little Peggy March Brett! It's  from September 4, 2006! 

Today is Labor Day and I worked. I didn't clock in or put my dress clothes on but I spent hours in my classroom. There were lesson plans to draw up and post on the Internet and grades to be typed into my computer. But it never feels like work. I love my job so much I feel guilty calling it a job. Not everyone is so blessed but I have a short memory. There is nothing I would rather do than what I do. My profession is one that lets me improve as long as I keep working. This morning, I heard a radio talk show host analyzing quarterback Brett Favre. A fourteen year veteran all-star with the NFL's Green Bay Packers, Favre contemplated retirement in the off season. In an interview, Favre mentioned hearing former New York Giants' quarterback Phil Simms speak about when it was time to quit. Simms said the rule of thumb is that a quarterback should play until he knows his time is up...and then play a few years more. His rationale was that life for him was extremely difficult (boring?) after his career ended so he would recommend holding on as long as possible. In Favre's case, even though past his prime, some team is likely to pay five million dollars per year for his diminished services. Who wouldn't be tempted to take that deal? What would you do with yourself if you retired at thirty-five? I could not stand myself if I wasn't busy doing something productive as long as it is feasible from a physical standpoint. If you were Brett Favre, how would you go from worshipful adulation to being out of the public view? I would guess that the spotlight can cast an addictive shadow.

There is a new TIME-LIFE infomercial: Maltshop Memories. Hosted by teen idol Bobby Rydell, the ad promotes a collection of classic hits from the era between the advent of rock and the coming of the Beatles. Maltshop Memories is crammed with extremely short film clips of 1960's entertainers singing their songs, or mouthing the words, on television shows. One of my favorite shots is of Little Peggy March, lip synching I Will Follow Him. The song hit number one in several countries, including the US. What makes I Will Follow Him more notable is that March was only fifteen at the time, making her the youngest singer on record to have a #1 single. She never came close to that level of success again although she did have several tunes make the bottom part of the charts. Peggy March is still singing today although the little tag, pinned on her due to 4'10" stature, has been discarded. She obviously is gifted and, according to her website, has lived a fulfilling life. Still, I wonder what it would be like to be on top professionally at fifteen and never come close to that rarefied level of success again. If you experience the mountaintop, is everything else at least a little disappointing? Andre Agassi retired yesterday. Did you see it? In an emotional good-bye, Agassi wept before an adoring crowd at the US Open after the tennis legend lost his final match. Only thirty-six and barely old enough to be constitutionally qualified for the Presidency, Agassi faces forty-five to fifty more years of life without the stage he has captivated for two decades. It will be interesting to see his life several years from now. Will he coach or be a commentator? Will he appear in exhibitions? Maybe he will play celebrity doubles matches with Brett Favre. I know this much, even though I am the most casual of tennis fans; Andre Agassi can't just disappear. The game needs his class... and the world needs his work ethic, especially on Labor Day. 

Applicable scripture of the day:
"A man do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God."
Ecclesiastes 2:24 

Applicable quote of the day:
"With each game I play, each season I play, everyone would agree with me, I'm running out of chances."
Brett Favre


*To listen to Little Peggy March sing her classic I Will Follow Him, please copy and paste the link below:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JVhbusBDi4&feature=related

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Personal I AM Statements

 

Personal I AM Statements

This is from November 5, 2022.
My classes this week finished studying the seven I AM statements Jesus made in the Gospel of John. If you aren't familiar with them, here they are!

I am the bread of life.

I am the true vine.
I am the good shepherd.
I am the gate for the sheep.
I am the light of the world.
I am the resurrection and the life.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.

I gave my students the assignment of coming up with their own I AM statements which would define them. Tonight, I am posting some of them, a combination of middle and high school kids, grades 8-12. They are brutally honest and all are used with permission; boys in blue and girls in pink!

I am the girl who has lost herself trying to fit in.
I am the girl with no reason NOT to be grateful.
I am the boy with many God given gifts.
I am the boy who loves too hard.
I am the girl who can see everyone else's beauty but not her own.
I am the pacifist boy who wants to fight back.
I am the girl who loves to go to the nail salon.
I am the daughter of two good souls.
I am the grandson of a good Christian grandmother.
I am the girl with a war between her heart and soul.
I am the girl who wakes up in the morning worried.
I am the son of a hard working dad.
I am the girl who wishes her father would get back into the Word.
I am the boy who knows he can do better but doesn't put in the effort.
I am the girl who acts clueless only not to be judged.
I am the young man silently crying for help.
I am the boy who takes care of his brothers.
I am the girl who wants to get married and have a big family.
I am the girl who loves her mom but keeps hurting her.
I am the girl who hates confrontation.
I am the boy who talks to himself a lot.
I am the boy who feels like his life is the same every day.
I am the girl who can't fit the image of who people want her to be.
I am the girl who is an INFJ. 
I am the girl who does not know who to trust.
I am the girl who just wants help.
I am the girl who hides away.
I am the boy who provides for his mom.
I am the boy who misses his sister.
I am a girl who just wants to know the truth.
I am the girl who feels guilty to say no.
I am the boy who wants everyone in the world to be  happy.
I am the girl who loves hugs.
I am the girl obsessed with what others think of her.
I am the boy with the small friend group.
I am the boy who dwells on the past and fears growing up.
I am the boy who can't wait to one day see his own children.

I  will post more of these in the coming days.

God bless,
Steve/Coach

Luke 18:1

Mixed Message

 

Mixed Message

One thing I like about FACEBOOK is to be able to reconnect with former students. This entry, from 12-18-06, is about one of those not-quite-as young-anymore kids.
 College semesters end before high school terms so our alumni began filing in last Friday. Many of our ex-students make it a point to come by when they are home for whatever vacation is on the calendar. Michael and Amy, Patrick and Scott, Jonathan and Shanna: I spent a little time with each of them Friday. And then there was Patricia. Several years past graduation, Patricia made sure she completed her annual pilgrimage to the halls of Westbury Christian School. Originally from Honduras, Patricia and her sister, Paola, were bright lights in my Bible classes over the past five years. Some students leave you with glowing feelings and some just aren't around anymore. Sometimes you struggle to recall much interaction but sometimes you can recite incidents word-for-word. Those become classroom stories.

I was standing outside the business office one afternoon when Patricia was a junior. I couldn't help but overhear Patricia speaking to her mother over the school phone in Spanish. Although I am not bilingual, I could tell it wasn't going well. Suddenly, Patricia switched from Espanol to English and seemed to shift into a higher gear. I was intrigued so I waited until the conversation was over. Curious, I asked Patricia why the change from her native tongue to her secondary language in the middle of the mother-daughter dialogue. She giggled and explained.
"When I get mad at my mom, I start speaking in English because she can't keep up with me!"
We have a number of students at WCS whose English skills are far superior to their parents' and when I use the illustration of Patricia, I get some knowing nods and grins. In the ongoing push and pull between folks and kids, sometimes the younger generation has a secret weapon: fluency. In any culture, the offspring always angles for the tiniest advantage over Mom and Pop. What the child can understand perfectly, an adult may lack sufficient skills to interpret. Jesus commented that the comprehension of parables fell into the same category. While these short stories seem often simple and direct to our twenty-first century ears, Jesus said bluntly that some hearers would never understand. The Savior even went one step further and explained in Matthew 13 that was the reason his teaching took parable form, so some would get it and some would not. I take it he meant they could have understood but they opted not to make the effort. Believers have a fluency in understanding the teachings of the Lord that non-believers lack. Which brings us back to Patricia. I reminded her of that story Friday and she laughed. She also told me that ruse is getting increasingly hard to pull off; her mother's English has improved dramatically. Take heart, parents; there is hope!

Applicable quote of the day:
"When you grow up in a family of languages, you develop a kind of casual fluency, so that languages, though differently colored, all seem transparent to experience."
David Antin

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Time Of Our Life

 

The Time Of Our Life

Last  Saturday, as it is annually, might be the best night of the year. The following explains my logic, a line of reasoning I know many of you will undoubtedly share. It is from November 1, 2005.

This past Sunday was my favorite day of the year. Late every October, our government gives us a gift of one extra hour- we call it Daylight Savings Time. (Perhaps not coincidentally, the government takes it back in April which also happens to be when tax payments are due.) I love the free sixty minutes- it's like getting an extra 4% on your paycheck! But, I don't like Daylight Savings Time. For one thing, it confuses me. I can never figure this out: if it's 8:00 a.m. now, what time was it at this time last week? I also prefer it being dark when I arrive at school rather than when I leave school. There are rational reasons for the shift but I'd be OK with not messing around with the clock every six months.

Time is very difficult to explain. I challenge my students to define the term without using a form of measurement and they can't. The concept appears early in the Bible. In Genesis 1:5, the terms day, night, evening, and morning are introduced. In verse 14, we are told that the lights in the sky are there to "serve as signs to mark seasons and days and years." Throughout the Scriptures, God gives his people commands based on calendar dates. Obviously, time has been important to humans from the beginning, another time component. I don't wear a watch and I don't have a classroom clock yet my day is ruled by forty-six minute segments called class periods. A bell rings and twenty-four students leave, replaced by twenty-four more. Another bell rings and the process repeats. I'm comfortable with my teaching routine. In fact, when we have a special schedule due to an assembly or all-school chapel, my day has no smooth flow to it. Most people start their years in January but teachers mark theirs from August. We define the kids by time- age, grade, or how many years they have been with us. A school without time can't function. My brothers teach at a school that doesn't use bells- the teachers rely on their clocks. I would struggle with that. I need reminders. Maybe that's why the Lord gave us days and months, years and seasons, holidays and first days of the weeks. We are reminded of our blessings and with birthdays, the feeling that the sand is gushing through the hourglass.

When I taught high school Economics classes in Tennessee, Bill Bryson, my Equitable agent, would come speak about his profession. He would use mortality tables, showing the odds of an eighteen year old in Wilson County dying that year. The probabilty was that one of every thousand would die: not one of my students thought it would be themselves. Death is a disease of the old, or so we think as teens. Time doesn't get scarce until our seventies. Time is limitless so we waste it and the minutes we waste become the years we waste. But we find out- we don't get the misused moments back. Isaac Watts put it like this:
"Time like an ever- rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away,
They lie forgotten as a dream,
Dies at the opening day."
The last two lines get me. I dream every night but by the morning, they're swept from my mind. That was Watts' view of time- the blunt reality of its relentlessness and the fact that it stops for none of us, whether Supreme Court Justice or talk-show host. The only difference between we the living and the dead is that they beat us there. It's one victory our mortal bodies can never snatch from the jaws of defeat.  

I saw a piece on one of the morning shows this past weekend, surveying people on how they would spend their extra hour. Some said exercising, some mentioned partying, most opted for sleeping. No one mentioned praying or doing something to benefit someone else. I actually spent mine eating but it was for a good cause. A fellow teacher and I had driven almost 200 miles round trip for a spiritual retreat and we got in late without having eaten any supper so my sixty minutes were focused on a Red Baron pizza and two pints of Blue Bell Ice Cream (Tin Roof, Banana Split.) I still don't like Daylight Savings Time but we live with it. That's the point- when we have no more time, we have no more life. I heard a Christian who is scientist define eternity as the absence of time so when we have no more time, our eternity has begun. A quote I used with my high school basketball teams went like this:
"If you had five minutes to live, who would you call-and what would you say-AND WHY ARE YOU WAITING?"
Whether we're on Eastern, Central, Mountain, or Pacific Standard Time, we are on the same clock...and it's ticking away for all of us. Don't run out of time before you run out of life because if you are reading this, you still have hope. I'll leave a very serious topic on a light note with my favorite quote on the subject:
"I've been on calendars but I've never been on time."
Marilyn Monroe

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Man Who Walks With A Walker

 

The Man Who Walks With A Walker

Frank is now in a facility better equipped for his needs. This is from July 4, 2014.

My next door neighbor's name is Frank. He moved in several months ago, replacing my long-time neighbors, the Reeds. I miss the Reeds- they picked up my mail for me during all my mission trips and drives to Kansas for Thanksgiving and Christmas, a big deal in my book! Frank is a very nice man, very much the gentleman. I can always hear him coming down the hall- he uses a walker which makes a little noise- and he often coughs loudly enough for me to hear him through the apartment walls. We've introduced ourselves but you don't see folks much in an apartment complex. There's no sitting on the porch or waving to the folks next door as they check their mailbox and you mow the grass, like we did in York, Nebraska in the summertime. Friendliness passes for friendship when your address is an apartment.

Yesterday morning, I was coming back home from working out and my return coincided with Frank's leaving. We exchanged pleasantries as he locked his door. I told him I was going to be out of the country for close to a month in Vietnam- he asked where and I told him, Can Tho, working with a church for a fourth consecutive summer. Frank asked if had ever visited a village I had never heard of. He told me it was north of Saigon. Innocently and without thinking, I asked Frank if he had ever been to Vietnam. I doubt I will ever forget his simple reply:
"That's why I have this walker."
So now I know why I can always hear Frank every time when he travels down our hall, and maybe even why he coughs constantly. Our journeys in life led both of us through Vietnam at least forty years apart. I've gone voluntarily. I don't know if Frank enlisted or was drafted- it doesn't matter. He served. Both of us came back changed; Frank physically, at least, and I would guess on a much deeper level in the manner maybe only combat veterans can perceive. My change is less obvious but I hope in some way as profound to my existence. You and I, we owe guys like Frank, those who came back and those who didn't. And so on this 238th birthday of our great nation, I just have one thing to say to Frank and his brothers and sisters in arms. Thank you.

Applicable quote of the day:
"Our veterans accepted the responsibility to defend America and uphold our values when duty called."

Bill Shuster

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

A Tale Of Two Summers

 

A Tale Of Two Summers

Some people are famous and some are infamous. Some simply are themselves and make a difference in a quiet manner with little fanfare. The following entry has some of both. It originally ran on August 1, 2006.

Four decades ago, Charles Whitman's name was added to the history books. On August 1, 1966, the twenty-five year old ex-Marine and Eagle Scout barricaded himself in the Texas Tower on the University of Texas campus in Austin. Perched high above the city and with a sniper's vantage point, Whitman picked off unsuspecting victims for roughly ninety minutes before being shot to death by several police officers. The death count at the conclusion of his rampage was fifteen, including his wife and mother who were killed earlier the same day. Thirty others were wounded. One of Whitman's targets died about five years ago. A rifle shot had destroyed his kidney, leaving him to survive for more than thirty years on dialysis. Weary of the toll the procedure was taking, David Gunby stopped his treatment and passed away in a matter of days. It is amazing to watch film clips and witness the change in television over the years, both in the camerawork and the methods of reporting. Charles Whitman, in some measure, was a precursor to the tragedy that would be Columbine. Back then, our society was more innocent and susceptible to shock. Charles Whitman helped pull back the curtain to provide a morbid glimpse into a culture swirling toward a violent future.

Let me tell you another Texas story. In the July 20 web version of The Observer, a community paper in Kingwood, we find the account of Beth Grimnes. A twenty year old life guard at a community pool, Beth resuscitated a ten year old boy who come into contact with a high voltage of electricity, jolting him into cardiac arrest. Beth, who had never even had to attempt to rescue a swimmer in her five years, performed CPR and mouth to mouth, reviving the boy and delivering him alive to the paramedics. The young man's mother credits Beth with saving her child's life and giving proper credit, proclaimed "God used her in a major way." Beth Grimnes- life saver and hero. This is one of those 'rest of the story' stories. You see, Beth Grimnes is one of my former students. In the 1999-2000 term, Beth was in my eighth grade Bible class. What an absolute jewel of a girl. Once she was helping me with an errand before first period and I introduced her to our secretary as, "my assistant, The Lovely Beth Grimnes." I started calling her LBG for short, a nickname she loved. Beth's younger sister, Katie, got mad because Beth would never tell her what the initials stood for. Katie also asked if I would give her a nickname, a request I never got around to fulfilling. The Grimnes family moved to the other side of Houston after Beth's eighth grade year and that's how she ended up in Kingwood, Texas on the afternoon of June 14, 2006. The family of Zachary Ives believes the Lord arranged for The Lovely Beth Grimnes to be sitting on the life guard chair that day. I would never argue with them.

There you have it, the tale of two Texans separated by forty years and radically different conclusions. One is infamous while the other will be remembered for all the right reasons. In Luke 6:9, Jesus was addressing a dispute over the Sabbath. The Savior asked a question that allowed only one correct reply: "Is it lawful to save life or to destroy life?" In the summer of 1966, Charles Whitman chose the latter. In the summer of 2006, Beth Grimnes opted for the former. And one ten year old boy will see his eleventh birthday because she did.

 Applicable quote of the day:
"We can't all be heroes because someone has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by."
Will Rogers

God bless,
Steve
Luke18:1

The Rearrangement

 

The Rearrangement

I'm not the most flexible person God created but sometimes, we have to make changes. The following, from March 1, 2006, is about the need we face at points in our lives to do some rearranging.

Yesterday was strange. I got sick on Tuesday and I never get sick. I've never missed a day of teaching due to illness and was not about to start; I toughed it out. A headache came on early in the day and three aspirin and eight Tylenol couldn't shake it. As soon as I got home from school, I hit the bed and slept for three hours. Food had no appeal and neither did work. I just wanted to get better. Guess how I feel today? I can't tell you how absolutely great I feel! I wish I felt this good everyday! The truth is, I do feel this good 99% of the time but it takes a bad day to realize it. By tomorrow, the euphoria will have passed but, at least for now, it's pretty exciting!

How often do we take life for granted? Mission trips sober us to the reality of the bounty of our lifestyle. Many feel a sense of guilt re-entering our culture with its opulence after spending time with some of the poorest humans on earth. But soon, the feeling goes into dormancy until our next trip. Most of us have exactly what we need, not to just get by, but thrive. This in my first blog entry from home. Last night, 10:00 pm CST, my Compaq Presario 1200 met the Internet for the first time, having been introduced by the computer matchmaker of Westbury Christian, Kevin Duncan. It was a difficult courtship, complete with anger, impatience, miscommunication, and PRAYER! Finally, the romance was a reality. What a terrific way to end a miserable day! In the course of installing my computer and its DSL, I had to rearrange my apartment. The desk now resides where the easy chair was, the easy chair moved to replace the dining room table, and the dining room table took over the space vacated by the desk. It's like I have a brand new apartment! Now, you have to realize I have lived in the same place for eight years and haven't changed things around one time. Necessity required a shuffling of the furniture but it's almost made it fun to come home. The furniture is not new but being in a different location gives it a different feel. The pieces were already there; moving them around just makes them seem, if not quite new, at least newer. To quote the worst grammar ever from a rock song:
"Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man,That he didn't, didn't already have." (America, 1974)
Every English teacher in the US could grind their teeth over that word usage but we get the point. Our lives resemble a jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces are there but putting them together takes time as well as trial-and-error. I am convinced that God gives us the parts to succeed, along with an assembly manual but we don't believe we have the necessary materials encoded in our DNA. I could have been computer literate but I chose to doubt myself. I could have done many things that I convinced myself were beyond my reach. Confidence comes from success and success grows from the seeds God plants in us. It's Spring; time to let those heavenly seeds germinate and bloom!

Applicable quote of the day:
"What a surprise to find that you could shift the contents of your head like rearranging furniture in a room."
Lisa Alther

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Choosing Sides

 

Choosing Sides

The Texas high school football playoffs are not far off and  champions will be crowned in a number of size classifications. The following entry was based on my favorite television show which was based on high school football in Texas. This is from February 14, 2007.

We had a disagreement in my sophomore Bible class yesterday, centering around an incident in the television series, Friday Night Lights. In last week's episode, Dillon High School was staging a powder puff flag football game for its female students. Two football players, Matt and Tim, were the coaches and as such, had to pick their squads from the thirty or so girls assembled in the gym. Matt had first pick. Sitting off to the side was his girlfriend, Julie, who happens to be the football coach's daughter. Julie is being forced to play in the game by her mother as punishment for skipping classes. It is obvious Julie doesn't want to be there or have anything to do with the contest. So, Matt picks Tyra, a good athlete, first and doesn't select his sweetheart Julie until third. Julie is very chapped. I explained the scenario to my class and asked the girls if Julie was right to be angry. Lea took the position, adamantly, that Julie should have been upset. I wondered why, knowing that she didn't want to play and Lea's reply was loyalty. Lea turned the question around and asked me and the boys in second period what our response would be if our girlfriend didn't pick us in those circumstances. Universally, the boys' answer echoed mine: "THANK YOU!" Lea was mystified and even rekindled the discussion with several other male faculty members at the end of school who, of course, took the same stance as her favorite Bible teacher. When I presented the situation in my other classes, every girl sided with Lea and every boy saw eye-to-eye with me. Talk about following the party line!

Today, I had several of my students write messages on the Love Board. Although normally a strictly optional expression of "love" for the opposite gender, I imposed on four girls to each take a five inch by five inch square and post a public Valentine. There were two provisos: the thoughts had to be in the young ladies' native language and they could not tell me the content of their statements. Kim wrote in Vietnamese, SunWoo printed in Korean, and Joy and Eva penned their pronouncements in Mandarin Chinese. During the day, I pointed out their squares to my classes. There were several students who could translate one box but no one could understand all of the five inch impromptu Hallmark cards. I even had Kim read hers aloud but no one else in that period could comprehend her words. All of us saw the identical scripts and some even listened to a pronunciation but the meanings were hidden by language barriers. In a sense, it was like the difference between the way the boys and girls view the choosing/not choosing the girlfriend for the powder puff team. The lens our decision was filtered through was dependent on our gender. We saw the same event but came to diametrically opposed conclusions. Sometimes, we can see but not really see. I don't understand why Lea and the other young ladies think as they do but it isn't a big deal. Some things are a big deal. Jesus told his disciples, "blessed are your eyes because they see and your ears because they hear." The Savior was referring to parables and the understanding the apostles would gain versus the ignorance of the crowds. Today, my understanding was shrouded in ignorance. I saw what those girls wrote...but it had no meaning to me. I heard what Kim read....but her words were unintelligible noises to my ears. I could learn....but without incentive, I won't. I can fathom the meaning of God's word but that doesn't mean I will. Sometimes, I can't even understand a teenage girl.

Applicable quote of the day:
"There are two great unknown forces today, electricity and woman, but men can reckon much better on electricity than they can on woman."
Josephine K. Henry

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

When OK Is Not

 

When OK Is Not

This entry from October 29, 2018 is about one of my favorite students and a haircut!
I got a haircut last Wednesday but that isn't really what this is about. I actually liked it when I got all the gel that Kim, the Korean lady who cuts my hair, slathered on. My take is that if I like the result, I can make it a couple of hours before the shower washes it down the drain and Kim is great at what she does! That brings me to Thursday.... and Euphe. I should say here that Euphe is one of my all-time favorite students. I've written a blog about her kindness in bringing me a wonderful gift back from her homeland, China, two years ago. Twice she has been in my classes, as both an 8th grader and last year as junior in my Gospels course. Both times, she excelled. Her English is tremendous and she has the ability to be funny in her second language, a skill many can never master. Last month, I wrote her college letter of recommendation and it was a glowing piece of literature to accurately describe this young lady. But let's get back to Thursday.

It was lunchtime and I eat with the high school kids this year after five years with our elementary children. Euphe's path crossed mine between the salad bar and the soup station. She asked, "Did you get a haircut?" Instead of answering yes or no, I replied with, "Do you like it?" She gave me a quizzical look and said, "It's OK." I acted hurt- you know emotional I am. When the final bell rang several hours later, she came up to greet me like she always does and I reminded her that my feelings were bruised. Euphe told me, "Well, OK means better than average." I explained to her that it didn't. She then countered with saying my haircut was nice. I told her that was even worse! We laughed and parted ways until the next haircut or second language nuance lessons, whichever comes first.

Today at lunch, I told her she would be the subject of my blog tonight and I would make her look good which isn't hard. Euphe liked that and asked when it would be posted so she could read it. Here's what I learned from my recent conversations with this terrific young lady. First, don't ask a question if you don't want to know the answer. Usually, students will tell me great or awesome when I ask that question. OK just left me hanging. It also reinforced the complexity of language and how you might have to come from a culture to get all the idiosyncrasies involved in the native dialect. And as I mentioned before, Euphe has a very good grasp of English and as good a vocabulary as many American kids. You know what's funny? Euphe came up in my classes that same week as she has this time for the past several years. I reference her in the story of the sinful woman who washed Jesus feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. I make the point that hair to a woman is almost sacred, especially in certain cultures, and the girls all shake their heads in agreement. And that's when Euphe's name pops up. You see, she has the longest hair at WCS, almost to her knees, and has for several years. She'll never get it cut before graduation which is in seven months for her. But if she did and happened to ask me what I thought, I've got my answer already ready. "AWESOME!!" And that's not splitting hairs. 

Applicable quote of  the day:
“Every barber thinks everybody needs a haircut.” 
M.F. Moonzajer

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Little Yellow House

 

The Little Yellow House

 

This is from July 29, 2021.

If you're my Facebook friend, you might have noticed that three weeks ago, I took an eight day road trip to Kansas. Normally, I only visit my brothers and their families in Wichita during Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays but not being able to go on my usual Vietnam mission left me with time on my hands. Dave had recently missed his high school reunion in our hometown of York, Nebraska and wanted to make the four hour trip to touch base with a few stops along the way. (See my last week's blog about the World's Biggest Ball Of Twine!) One thing we did in York was pose at our elementary school and the four houses in which we grew up. That's the shots above taken decades apart- I'm the smallest human. This was the first house we called home in Nebraska; 1012 Kiplinger Avenue. I was happy to see it has retained its yellow hue.

We moved here from Brooklyn where Dave and I were born and here is where my memories really begin. I was four and everything in the world was exciting. Dad was a preacher, Mom was a stay at home mom at the time, Scott was a few years away, and Cecelya and Sandy had not yet joined our family. This house was owned by Dale and Raylene Larson. He was the President of York College and I grew up with their children, Aloha and Zane. The house was small but it had some great features! The living room wallpaper was the Grand Teton Mountains and the ceiling in the room Dave and I shared had the solar system on the ceiling that glowed when the lights were out. Our neighbors in the next two houses, the Gurganuses and the Thomases, both had York College structures named after them so we were in high society. Dad's office, the church building, was fifteen seconds away by foot and I loved spending time there- I was especially fascinated by the baptistry. This is where we lived when Dad started cutting our hair and taking us to YC basketball games- pretty sure we got in for free! Mom, as the preacher's wife, played hostess for every baby and bridal shower for every young lady in our congregation. It was here where our folks had us skip meals so we could give the money saved to missionaries, something they explained but I did not get at the time. Fast was how you ran, not something you went without to a little boy. I somehow survived measles/mumps/chicken pox on this piece of land. School began for me in this house and I've never left. Even at five, I walked to Willard School, five blocks away. And then after about four years, we moved to another house, the first our parents ever owned, and more memories of growing up and being shaped would follow. That's several more pictures and stories for another day. 

It's never meant that much to me that I was born in Brooklyn, although someday I would like a Brooklyn Dodgers hat. (7 1/4 if you are interested!) Do you know how many times we are told Jesus returned to Bethlehem, His birthplace? None! I do wonder if He ever had the urge to travel the six miles down the road when in Jerusalem for Passover. On the other hand, we are told about Him returning to Nazareth where He had been brought up and how He was referred to as Jesus of Nazareth. His reception in His hometown was anything but warm; they wanted to kill Him after His synagogue proclamation that He was the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecies. Dave and I had no such hostile reaction- we just slipped in and out. There are two things I did notice from the respective pictures posted above. The first is that in the 2021 photograph, I'm wearing a Nebraska Youth Camp shirt with HOME emblazoned on the front. I didn't think that out beforehand but it was appropriate. (Shoutout to my WCS colleague Jay Roberts for this addition to my wardrobe!) The second thing that hit me is that my picture pose is unchanged from that autumn (I'm wearing flannel) day many moons ago. Hair pushed over my left eye, hands in pocket. The one thing different is I am missing Mom's motherly touch and Dave is missing Dad's. That's OK. They gave us the foundation to be able to stand when they were gone and much of that grounding came in these four yellow walls.

Applicable quote of the day:
When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood.
Sam Ewing

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Passing

 

The Passing

I was blessed with great women and men of faith in my life as a child. This entry, from June 7, 2011, is about one of them.
A great man died yesterday. Brother Alex Humphrey passed away in Florida with his loving family family bedside. Alex might not have been an international icon but that does not preclude him from giant status. He was my Bible professor at York College and a more knowledgeable scholar I've  never known. He taught me Hebrews but while expounding on the Word, he taught me and a generation of YC students a whole lot about life. He knew the Scriptures but more important to me as a kid, he lived the teachings of Jesus. He was plain spoken and you knew where he stood but he did it with a deep down gentleness that many preachers and educators lack. A piece of York College died when Alex Humphrey took his last breath on Monday.

But, there was more to the man than just an academician or minister. He and his lovely wife, Ruth, were like an extra set of parents to me. I grew up in a unique church where almost all of the adults were connected to the college. In fact, there was no Church of Christ in York, Nebraska until York College, which had been closed for a number of years, was reopened by a new faculty and administration. Most of  the members in that small Midwestern congregation were southerners educated at colleges like Harding, Abilene Christian, and David Lipscomb and who came to staff the college. The parents looked out for each others' kids and although unrelated by blood, we became extended families. None of the parents were divorced, all the moms cooked, and they all had a universal blessing to correct the others' children should the need arise. I remembering staying with the Humphreys and their son, Phil, in their gracious home when my folks traveled. Ironically, now as a Houstonian, I struggled to decipher their Texas accents! But they looked after me as their own in my mom's and dad's absence. I just don't think you see that commonality of purpose much anymore in churches, especially in larger locales. Alex helped me maintain my bearings when I wandered and my folks did the same for many of my church contemporaries. I know Phil is grieving today with the loss of his beloved father. He'll find out, as my siblings and I did when our folks went to be with the Lord, how much love his father left behind. But then, it's really no surprise. Alex Humphrey was simply part of a mighty large family, a family that has lost one of its remaining patriarchs.

Applicable quote of the day:
"Great men, unknown to their generation, have their fame among the great who have preceded them, and all true worldly fame subsides from their high estimate beyond the stars."
Henry David Thoreau

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Charitable Donation

 

Charitable Donation

Larry Roder, who is my brother in Christ, does my taxes each year. The biggest part of my preparation is putting together records for Larry. You want to learn about a wonderful charitable donation? Read on, from March 1, 2007.

I can't stand the Dallas Cowboys. It goes back to college days. One of my friends, Gary Beck, was from Dallas and was firmly convinced the only reason the Cowboys ever lost was due to an NFL conspiracy. It became very easy to root against America's Team. That hard line stance melted today as I was reading the ESPN website. A story came over the wires about former Cowboy teammates, Ron Springs and Everson Walls. The duo played together for four seasons in the early 1980's, establishing a friendship that would spiral outward to include their spouses and kids. After retirement, the two remained close, to the point of being named godfathers to the other's children. More than fifteen years ago, Springs was diagnosed with diabetes and has digressed steadily, in spite of thrice-weekly dialysis. He has lost the functional use of one hand and has endured the amputation of a foot and the removal of toes on the other. In dire need of a kidney transplant, Springs turned to relatives, including his son, who plays for the Washington Redskins, and a niece, but concerns removed those kin from the donor list. Almost offhandedly, Walls offered to be tested.... and came up a match. The long term friendship between the former athletes was cemented yesterday as Everson Walls' kidney was transplanted into Ron Springs' failing body. Assuming no rejection, Springs is expected to regain motion in his hand and walk on his own once more, discarding the wheelchair that has become his transport. They are the first retired American athletes to participate in an organ swap.

Ironically, the player perceived by many to be the worst current teammate also plays for the Cowboys. who, fairly or not, has been labeled a team killer and is suspected of poisoning relationships with former quarterbacks Jeff Garcia and Donovan McNabb. Maybe T.O. could use some mentoring from Walls and Springs in regards to loyalty and camaraderie. I've noticed with my own players that it is easier for them to swallow physical play from an opponent in a game than from a teammate/classmate in a practice session. Maybe we expect it from the opposition but subconsciously believe those wearing the same jerseys as we do should cut us some slack. Jesus dealt with discord in the ranks of his apostles. James and John wanted to elevate their standing over the other ten. Friction probably arose between the tax collector, Matthew, and his eleven co-workers who hated tax collectors. It is possible that Judas was the only one of the Twelve not from Galilee, leaving him on the outside looking in in terms of accent and cultural literacy. Still, the Savior did just fine with the dozen he hand-picked after a prayer session. Minus Judas, they bonded through suffering and setbacks and became the mightiest evangelistic force in history. Everson Walls risked his life/lifestyle giving up his kidney to re-energize the life of his teammate and friend, Ron Springs. Would Bartholomew have sacrificed an organ for Phillip or would James, son of Alphaeus, given his kidney to James, son of Zebedee? In my book, there is not a shred of doubt. That's what a teammate does, even a retired teammate whose vantage point is now on the sidelines.

Applicable quote of the day:
"It's a big deal. You've got to understand now, this man is giving me something to make my life better. I would tell everybody in America, be a donor. The ultimate donor was Jesus Christ- he gave his whole life for us."Ron Springs (on receiving a kidney from Everson Walls)

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Fear Itself

 

Fear Itself

 

I still lift weight three-four days per week but no longer on the WCS campus as I did when I wrote this almost 21 years ago. Many of us like being scared of a movie but not so much in real life. Coming into an empty school building very early in the morning can bring on skittish nerves! This is from 11-28-05.

As I do each Monday-Wednesday-Friday from August through May, I arrived at our school building this morning at 4:45 to work out. I used to lift after school but there were too many conflicts with meetings and kids going through their strength routines. One thing about 4:45 a.m.- you don't have to fight traffic to get to the equipment. My workout takes about one hour and fifteen minutes and leaves me physically drained. Most people like having a lifting partner but I prefer going it alone. When I have a partner, I talk and I don't get as much done. Finishing up, I make a quick trip to my apartment to shower and return to school before 7:00 to start another eventful day.

You might think the hardest part of my routine is getting out of bed or finding motivation to go if I don't feel great. Neither of those are accurate. The most difficult thing I deal with is walking into the building. We have a large complex and it can be incredibly dark and spooky at that time. I peek around corners and flip on light switches to assure myself that I am not about to be attacked by some unknown, unseen bad guy. My skittishness this morning was compounded by something I saw on the news while I ate breakfast. Did you know ABC has a news show at 3:30 a.m.? It was about the recording of 'voices of the dead' from 'haunted' houses. Now, my belief of the scriptures leads me to have doubts about that stuff but it was on my mind as I came into the school. My hair stood on end as I walked a deserted hallway and I felt the wall for the next light switch. Of course, there was nothing there- there never is. But an ice machine rumbling in the cafeteria becomes a potential threat to my safety. Last week, someone left a radio on overnight somewhere in the area and I could hear it. THAT was unnerving! I don't really calm down until the next person, Roger Ramirez, arrives at about 5:30. Then, I breathe easier and concentrate on improving my muscle mass rather than dodging the bogey man. You are supposed to do some cardiovascular movements to get you heart rate up- I have automatic rapid pulse without running at all!

There's something about the dark that unnerves us. The Bible constantly contrasts light and dark with light standing for good and darkness representing evil. We associate darkness with the world of sin and Satan while we pair the Father-Son-Holy Spirit with light. I'm no veterinarian but I have never seen animals afraid of the dark. They seem comfortable at any time. My students tell me they would never come into the school building alone when I do but it would not bother them in the afternoon. Brightness reassures us that we will be OK. Jesus contrasted two types of people in Luke 16:8 when he classified all of us as either 'people of the world' or 'people of the light.' In the Gospel of John, Jesus makes what are known as "The Seven 'I AM' Statements." One of these, in John 8:12, states "I am the light of the world." But look what Jesus says in Matthew 5:14 when he declares "YOU are the light of the world." In a sense, he puts the same characteristic on the believer that he has himself! The world is looking for physical light and spiritual light. Jesus said we should let our lights shine so God would be praised. A hidden light isn't doing much good. Children love the Bible song, This Little Light of Mine (I'm Gonna Let It Shine!) It is so simple but it is the essence of evangelism. Jesus tells us in John 3 that if "we live by truth, we come into the light." After we come into the light, we must stay in the light. That's what I want to do in the morning- stay where it's light and stay away from the dark. There was a gospel hymn we sang when I was a boy called In the Land of Fadeless Day. The song was about heaven and the last three words of each verse and the chorus were identical: 'no night there.' There will be no night in heaven and no fear in heaven. It will be all light. No peeking around the corners and no scary ice machines! Nothing will be there to threaten us. The truth is, nothing can really harm me if I rest in the love of God. I just have to remind myself at 4:45 a.m.!

Applicable quote of the day:
"Work hard.
Speak the truth.
Trust in God.
HAVE NO FEAR."
sign on the desk of Harry Truman

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1