Thelma and Louise, Part One

Suzanne and I set out on our road trip to her Montana wedding before dawn one Saturday. We were armed with coffee, a map highlighting our route, two cell phones and driving a loaded down Durango full of what can only be called "wedding crap." (Except for the dress, of course. That was truly important.) So, we're driving and laughing, text messaging our friends, and enjoying the scenery. Just as we come into Colorado, we notice a sign to our right, "State Correctional Facility Ahead: Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers." Well, great! That's comforting! We laugh and continue on our merry way. About 15 minutes later, I'm driving along, watching the traffic in front of me and wondering how much longer before we're actually in the mountains, when suddenly, I hear Suz exclaim, "Look! A marching band!" My first thought is, "What kind of marching band is out in the middle of June?!" But, still, I glance to my right. Where she sees a marching band, I see white buildings, painted uniformly with green roofs and surrounded by barbed wire fencing. I also see rows of men in matching white uniforms lined up in a yard. Could it be a CORRECTIONAL FACILITY?! She came to the same realization about the time I did, and we laughed way too hard for the next several miles!

Tales of a Fourth Grade Theologian

With much fear and trembling I approached the Fourth Grade Bible Lesson at Kid Power Camp on Monday evening. We were talking about The Good News using a Wordless Book made of colored construction paper, each page/color representing a part of the Greatest Story Ever Told. Night one was The Gold Page or Heaven, God's Home. Most of the children in my little huddle were from our church and knew the story quite well, so I spent most of the time letting them tell me the story. When I got to the part about things that wouldn't be in heaven, I was using a teaching aid with pictures on it to prompt them. They were calling out answers like "tears" or "death" or "sun and moon" when I heard it the first time. A little boy on my left said, "anathema." At least, that's what I thought I heard. I kept going, taking answers from the other children, and then I heard it again. "Anathema." I turned, acknowledged him and asked him if he could define that word for the rest of the class. He sat up straight, looked me in the eye as though he couldn't believe that would be necessary and said, "Someone condemned to hell. They obviously wouldn't be in heaven." Wow. You're right, kid. Good job. We move on. (I should note that the three older gentlemen assigned to "corral" my kids for the evening are standing around the circle with their mouths hanging open, dumbfounded.) It gets better. I move on with the children, and we begin discussing John 3:16, "For God so loved the world -- that means you and me! -- that He gave His only begotten Son -- to die on a cross for our sin, can anyone tell me what sin is?" Again, I field answers about kicking, stealing, disobeying, and from my left, I hear the same voice again, "treason." I turn, smile, and ask for a definition -- this time, out of complete curiousity as to what he might say, but without any doubt that he'll have one. That's when the history lesson began. Picture a fourth grader looking you directly in the eye and explaining, "Well, it's like during the War of Such and Such (I don't remember what he said), if someone were serving King Louis IV or V, I've forgotten now, but they befriended the King of Denmark and betrayed him. That's treason, so they CUT OFF HIS HEAD!" The last four words were stated emphatically and punctuated with a karate chop move. Okay, score two for the kid. We continue through John 3:16, "...that whosoever believes in Him -- who is whosoever, kids?" We talk about the fact that this verse tells us that anyone can come to God and go to heaven, that anyone who believes Jesus is Lord and Savior can be forgiven of their sin and does not have to go to hell. The hand on my left shoots up at this point. I can't help myself. I call on him. And this comes out of his 10 year old mouth, "Well, actually, John Calvin's theology of election and predestination states that God has predetermined who will be elected to salvation. And if there are some chosen for heaven, then obviously, some people have to go to hell." I smiled graciously, not sure if I'm more amazed by this child's ability to correctly use such words and sentences or the mouths of the adults nearby that are hanging open. I tell him that John Calvin was a very smart man who wrote many helpful things, but that tonight, we are more concerned with specifically what John 3:16 says. He interrupts me and says with an increduous tone, "John Calvin wrote MANY commentaries on the Bible, you know." "Yes, I know, I've even read some of what he's written, but tonight, we're still going to stick with Scripture only, okay?" He shrugs, but let's it drop. I finish the lesson without further comment. However, later, the children are at craft time, making their own wordless books, working on the Red Page, discussing blood. My Fourth Grade Theologian informs his fellow crafters this very helpful tidbit ... Did you know it's more fun to squash female mosquitoes than male mosquitoes because female mosquitoes have more blood and make a better splat!
I can hardly wait to go back tonight!

Pentecost

Our church joined with numerous others from Fort Worth last night to celebrate Pentecost in an outdoor prayer and praise service. I confess, I was not looking forward to the service through the week. Sunday nights at Wedgwood are pretty much my favorite time of the week, and I guard that hour and a half jealously in my schedule. However, as Bro. Al shared faithfully from 2 Chronicles 7:14 on Sunday morning and called each of us to prayer as individuals and as a corporate body, I realized that Sunday night's service with the community was not something I wanted to miss. I am so glad I didn't! Just seeing the mix of people, races and denominations on that hill was incredible. Spending time in focused prayer with my brothers and sisters was a privilege and an honor. It's so easy to forget our shared purpose when we do not exercise that privilege regularly. It's so encouraging to hear another pray the things that are in my own heart and know that God is moving all around us and the He desires to use us for His glory. Praise Him!

How Sweet It Is

I've been reflecting a lot lately on the voice of the Lord. Psalm 29 describes the power of His voice, culminating in verse 9, "The voice of the Lord makes the deer to calve and strips the forest bare; and in His temple all the people cry, 'Glory!'" Yet, in 1 Kings 19, we read the account of Elijah experiencing the presence of God in a whisper. Truly, God comes and speaks to us in whatever way He sees fit, but lately, I've just been so glad that He speaks at all. A few weeks ago, He had some difficult things to say to me, some hard truths I needed to hear and heed. My initial reaction was, of course, conviction and remorse, but as things began to settle down and my life lined up according to His Word once again, the realization that the Almighty King of kings would care so much about my relationship to Him being in right order that He would speak to me in a personal way was incredible. Even when He disciplines me, it's so sweet to hear His voice. Through the weeping season of last year, His voice came often, comforting, promising hope and healing, challenging me to take Him at His word. I think I took the sweetness of that intimacy for granted at times. For now, as healing happens, and joy comes much more easily, I miss that voice, the way He spoke so clearly back then. May we never cease to be amazed at the greatness of our God, that One so holy would choose to commune with the common likes of me!

I'm So Proud

Five years ago this month, I came home from college for the weekend on a Friday afternoon and discovered an empty house with an unmowed lawn. For those of you who know my dad, Big Dave, you know that this is not normal. Upon calling Mom's cell phone, I discovered that my parents were sitting in the emergency room, waiting to hear the doctor's report from tests being run on Daddy's heart after chest pains and an irregular EKG. We spent four long days in the hospital before an angioplasty revealed a miraculous lack of damage to his heart. Since that time, Big Dave's taken his heart and his health seriously. He's been eating better, staying active, and this weekend, he completed his first triathalon. I'm so proud of him, so thankful that he heeded the warnings of his own body and has such an incredible will not just to live, but to live well. Congrats, Big Dave! :-)