A Timely Word

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Graduation Day

It’s the time of year when students receive their long-sought sheepskin.  Yes, diplomas (Greek for “folded paper”) were originally made from sheepskins since Carthage, known for making fine paper, had fallen to Rome.  (How many graduates know this!)   Perhaps you can still hear the plodding pulse of Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance” as your class assembled for one last time.  Never again would this group gather in the same number.  Life was about to scatter you in many unknown directions.   Curiously, “pomp” is rarely used without adding “and circumstance.” It refers to a splendid display or public event.  Circumstance is a fact connected to a situation.  So, graduation is a splendid event.   How has your life unfolded in relation to the dreams you had on graduation day?  What’s turned out better than you ever anticipated?  Can you take credit for it?  Was it just “luck?”  Were you simply at the right place at the right time?  Or have you sensed an unseen Hand guiding the facts connected to your situation?’  Could that Hand belong to One who has your very best interest at heart?  Are you at a point where you can acknowledge whose Hand it is?   Could it be the hand of the One who, like a perfect lamb, was sacrificed on a Roman cross to save your skin?  Yes, all we like sheep have wandered off.  Maybe it’s time to scurry back for that big, very public class reunion when absolutely all will attend.    No more Grade Point Averages on that graduation day..  Just Pass or Fail. Posted May 5, 2012

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A Deal You Can Refuse

In my youth my small family spent a lot of time at the dinner (we called it supper) table.  Mom had toiled in the untenable heat and humidity of an uncooled kitchen, and she brought forth such savory dishes for my Dad and me to ooh and ahh and eat.  There was no menu from which I could choose just mashed potatoes and gravy topped off with syrupy pecan pie ala mode.  No, I was obliged to pay my dues by eating every boiled okra, steamed carrot, spitball-sized asparagus and, handy as lawn dart, the alien Brussels sprout.   When Dad passed me some victuals (don’t say “vittles” at the supper table), I had no recourse but to have some (and not a token portion, don’t you know!), say a sincere “thank you, Mom,” then down every last, gagging morsel.   Stocks, pillories, guillotine and, worst of all, the dreaded “switch,” harvested from some menacing hedges in the back yard --- these “tools of education” would be heading my way, with a vengeance, if I refused to eat anything offered.   If you choose to accept this invitation to sample a His Deal luncheon, you have total freedom to speak up, get up or wake up in opposition to what you’re hearing.  At these boardroom nooners twice a month we open an ancient Book containing great truths with contemporary relevance, spoken by Jesus Christ.   He’s been turned down before.  So He’s prepared once again to offer you a deal you can refuse.   Or seriously consider.   Posted September 22, 2011

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Grounded by the Light

Stranded far from home, our scheduled day of departure is slapped with severe weather that grounds all flights.  Hours of airport hanging, negotiating with the ticket agent, net us only a rebooked flight tomorrow.  Day One in the books.   Day Two we now know how this state spurs population growth.  They lure you with fried catfish, hushpuppies and new-wave frozen yogurt stores sporting more spigoted, serve-yourself choices than a Midwestern sow offers her starving piglets.  The soft-spoken locals conspire with the airlines to hold you hostage until you send home for your things and settle down there.   A power outage at a distant airport that feeds us planes means our flight is scratched.  Back to the rental car and hotel counters.  Can you say, "Day Two?"   Day Three dawns under a tornado watch as we rock 'n' roll up into the wild, blue bumpy.  At last, 31,000 feet, and we're aloft on our change-planes-twice, return flight.  So far, lift-offs and landings feel like we've been taking fire from enemy MIGs, and suddenly "air traffic controller" is an oxymoron.   Despite the unfriendly skies, God wraps us with a palpable peace as we remember Jesus saying, "Let not your heart be troubled."  Paul writes, "Don't be anxious about anything," adding, "I have learned to be content in whatever state I find myself."  (Even the states in Tornado Alley?)   Just think of all the lightning bolts, wind shears and overshot runways we may have missed.  And, oh yes, that yogurt store.   Posted May 25, 2011

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Larger Than Life

Towering over the Pacific Northwest, 14,411-foot Mount Rainier rises from the emerald green shoulders of the Cascades, part of the feared Pacific Ring of Fire.  This muzzled monster, like its sister, St. Helens, could bury millions of us miles-deep in minced evergreens and pureed glacial boulders, laced with a devilish dollop of flaming lava.   Creeping up the spine of this dozing mammoth in late summer, we’re cheered by otherwise shy wildflowers.  Frosty-clear rills are prancing over muscle-bound, granite Lego’s like Fred Astaire descending from some Rhode Island-sized snowfield.  Each trail turn frames a post card keepsake.   Back in the century-old lodge at Paradise, in the warm embrace of the great stone fireplace, we reflect on the breathless scale of this looming lady who peekaboos with tourists, bucks climbers from its glacial withers like an unbroken bronc, this snowy sentinel that defines its kingdom.   We mortals tilt toward overstating ourselves.  But standing near, on or even atop Rainier, you’re still a gnat alongside a nebula.  It truly is larger than life. Or is it?    Inspired ancients predicted in writing that one day the stars will fall from the sky, and the mountains will collapse into the seas.  But the central figure of that same book vows that you and I will live forever, even beyond death.  And it says we have a choice as to our ultimate address.   Now we’re talkin’ larger than life.    Have you met the Mountain Mover?   Posted August 28, 2009

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