Beautiful Teeth?

 

“You have beautiful teeth,” the lady told me.  I am not certain what the correct response to this statement is, but since the woman was a dental hygienist and had her hands (and instruments of torture) in my mouth, I said, “Mrggth…”

“I’m sure your patients appreciate your welcoming smile,” she went on.  “I think there’s nothing like a smile to let you know that someone is glad to see you.”

Once again, I made a muffled grunting noise.  Somehow, I’ve found conversations at the dentist’s office are a trifle one sided.  Maybe I could record some responses ahead of time for future visits and play them at appropriate moments.

I began to contemplate what she had said.  I don’t have beautiful teeth.  They are strong enough and I haven’t had to have many fillings over the years, but my teeth aren’t straight and never have been.

If there was a Mr. America contest, I’m sure I’d be knocked out in the first round because of my smile.  And yet… I do think that smiles are important – regardless of how straight your teeth are.

One of the things I noticed with COVID masking was that I couldn’t see people’s smiles any more.  Maybe people weren't smiling as much anyway, but it felt like something was missing.  Regardless of what you thought about masks, they took away one of the best methods for making someone feel comfortable – a smile.

Proverbs 13:13 says, “A glad heart makes a cheerful face, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed.”

Our faces are windows that reveal what our hearts are experiencing.

More than that, smiles are just like yawns.  They are contagious.  It just takes one person smiling in a workplace and a heavy atmosphere starts to lift.  Smiles are meant to be shared.  Nothing should hold back our smiles – not even teeth that aren’t straight or beautiful.

Talk Like a Pirate?

 

“ARRRRGH!”  Quoth I to my patient who had seated himself upon the chair closest to the door.  “Avast ye, matey!  What art thou a-doing here, ye scurvy knave?”

“Ahm,” spake my patient, seriously discomfited with my fiercesome manner of speech.  “Excuse me?”

“Arrrgh!”  I said again.  “I said, what be ye doin’ here, ya land lubber?”

“I’m here for my check up,”  my patient answered, in a feeble voice.  “You were going to check on my sugars…”

“And what have ye been eatin’?”  I queried.  “Shiver me Timbers!  Mayhap ye have been chasing Little Debbie around the Kitchen – if ye catch my drift or Perhaps doing a Tango with the Twinkies.  We’ll do blood work for certain!  I’ll draw it with my very own cutlass and if I find that your sugars are high – why – why, I’ll keel-haul ye!”

A trace of fear passed across the visage of the gentleman sitting across from me.  “Why are you talking like that?”  He questioned me.  “Where’s my doctor?”

“I am your doctor!”  I cried in a loud voice.  “I am the Dread Doctor Waldron, Scourge of the Spanish Main and Viceroy of Delhi!  Look upon me, ye mortal and cower in fear!”

I could have cut the silence that entered the room with my cutlass.

“I’m going to send you to the leaches to draw some of thy blood,” I proclaimed.  “You scallywag, If I find thy A1C is up, why I’ll make you walk the plank!  I’ll feed you to the sharks!  I’ll have you see the inside of the Locker of Mr. Davy Jones himself!”

“Oh,” I finished.  “Listen, you bilge rat, I would have you hear that our office will be sending you a survey in a few days.  If ye value your scurvy self, ye will see that the marks are high.  All tens, you hear?”

International Talk Like a Pirate Day is only a month away.  September 19^th is the official day and Pirate Waldron would recommend that ye practice a little ahead of time.  Ye wouldn’t like to be caught napping by the Coast Guard, now would ye?

Tis fortunate that above dialogue is simply a figment of my (overly active) imagination.  For, while it might feel good to wax piratical when dealing with others in our lives, it is unlikely to help most situations.  I believe that most of my patients would prefer to seek attention from a medical man who does not speak like a pirate nor listen to medical advice from a doctor who rants and raves like Blackbeard on his third bottle of grog.

The Apostle Paul wrote to the assembly at Colosse, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you should answer each person.”

Those who are wise would do well, to be certain, not only of what they say, but of how they say it.  For oft times a man will listen to a gently phrased encouragement, while he will stir up a hurricane when he feels under attack.

Personally, I think that I will forego piratical curses on September 19^th in favor of words with kinder phrasing -- and not just to help my office surveys.  I may even leave my cutlass at home too.

The Wrong Notes

 

 

One day, it came to pass, that I found myself sitting in the sanctuary of my church.  Now, this is not surprising, for I attend there frequently when I am not Out of Town.  Further, I appreciate muchly both the singing and The People, for they Love Jesus and Encourage me Greatly.

Now, as I sat in my seat, the singing came to an end, and I realized that I had been called to the front to share a Sermon.  Now, this also was not too surprising, for I have been known to teach and even preach within our little church.

I went forward to do what was asked of me and standing at the front of the church, I looked out into the congregation.  Now, I must confess that I do not picture people sitting in their underclothes when I am speaking.  I am not certain who thought that practice would be Helpful, but I find it distinctly Not Helpful to calm anxiety.

Forthwith, I opened my Bible and removed some sheets of paper which entailed my notes on the subject of Abram and Lot.  Except, looking at these wondrous fair Sheets of Papyrus, I found that they had none of my hieroglyphics on them, but rather writing that looked much like that of my fair wife.

Lo, I studied the first page and found that it was a recipe for Zucchini Brownies.  Now, Zucchini Brownies are Delectable and Moist and Tasty and The Bomb and All That, but they are not a subject for a Sermon.  In fact, I do not know for certain if either Abram or Lot ever tasted Zucchini Brownies, but I think not.

I turned to the next page, hoping Beyond Hope, to find something Worth Preaching About, but found a wondrous recipe for Peach Jam.  Now, once again, I have had Elaine’s Peach Jam and it is Worth Talking About – only not on Sunday morning.

It was at this point that I raised my head to the congregation, when by a Wonderful Stroke of Providence, I heard a beeping sound start and I realized that it was my Alarm Clock.  It was time to Wake Up and get ready for Another Day.

Now, when I was a boy, I hated any story that ended with the words, “And with that, he woke up and discovered that it had all been a dream.”  Except, that in this case, I was Awful Glad that it had just been a dream.

I have been told that oft-times our anxieties are revealed in our dreams.  Verily, it is true that I worry much about things, many of which may never come to pass.  I worry that my children might not grow up to Love Jesus.  I worry that my patients might not be as Healthy as Other Doctor’s Patients.  Apparently, I even worry that I would bring my wife’s recipes to church and try to preach from them.

I have often pondered the solution for anxiety.  I have heard Ministers say things like “Let Go and Let God” at which point, I picture myself holding onto a rope on the side of cliff and wonder how letting go will help God out.

Jesus said, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”  Verily, this is a true statement, but for an Anxious Man, figuring out how not to drag tomorrow’s problems into today is a Challenge.  It seems to me that our focus is to be on the Things of God.  If we pursue the Kingdom of God, mayhap we will not have as much attention to focus on the worries of tomorrow or the regrets of yesterday.

Our Heavenly Father knoweth who we are and of what we are made.  He wants us to trust Him – even to get us through a public speaking experience with the Wrong Notes.

A Parable of Unusual Ingredients

 

 

One Sabbath Day, the Family of Waldron returned from Meeting House to find a pleasant aroma wafting from their Crock Pot.  Aforetime, this was likely to be the aroma of pot roast, carrots and potatoes, but since my daughter hath developed the dread malady, Allergy to Alpha Gal, it was chicken and Black Beans that was stewing to perfection.

So it was that we sat down to dinner and ate and drank to our heart’s (and stomach’s) content.  When we rose, it was not because the food was all, but because our Starving Appetites had been defeated fair and square at the Dinner Table.

Then, my beautiful wife rose.  “The meal is not quite ended,” quoth she.  “For I have slaved in baking for ye all and now I have two pies – one is peach and the other custard.”

Now, it seemeth to me that the world is divided into three groups – those who like pie, those who like cake, and folk who are ill.  Verily, I fall into the camp of those who prefer pie and so I was pleased and called the meal Very Good.

My younger son asked for and received a piece of the custard pie. 

Perhaps he noticed and perhaps he did not, but the eyes of my wife and I were upon him whilst he ate this pie.  “Dost thou like yon pie?”  I asked him.

“Verily,” he saith.  “The pie is very good, and my mother is a great baker to make such a thing.”

It was then that we sprung the surprise upon him.  “Dost thou know what type of pie thou art eating?”  I queried.

“Yea, Custard Pie,” answered Elliot and then after a Pregnant Pause.  “Thou hast not poisoned it?”

“No, my son, but it is not just any Custard Pie.  Yea, it is pie made with the goodness of Zucchini Squash in it and we hid it from thee, for we know that thou believest that thou dost not like Zucchini and therefore would not have eaten it if we told thee Straight Out what was in it.”

My second son looked aghast, as if he had just been informed that the pie had Arsenic Sauce upon it.  Then, he had made choking sounds – trying to convince his laughing family that he really was In a Bad Way from Toxic Zucchini.

“Thou canst not fool us, nor dost thou need Activated Charcoal to neutralize that which thou hast eaten,” I said.  “For thou didst like the pie until thou knewest that it was made with squash.  For, the pie is Plum Good and thou knowest it right well.”

I thought much on the subject of hidden things and how our human tendency is to judge things on their appearance and our Preconceived Notions of how they are.

So it was that the Prophet Samuel, when he visited David’s father to anoint one of Jesse’s sons to be king, judged the older ones to be more worthy.  They were stronger and older and seemed the more fair and yet, God had chosen David to be king in Saul’s place.  He told the prophet, when Samuel was contemplating one of the older ones, “Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart.”

It is sad if there are things we miss out on in life and folks that we choose to ignore, because we have Judged them By Their Cover.  For lo, there is much more to a man than the length of his beard and whether he have a tattoo of a camel on his left forearm.

I pray that we might see and judge aright – even as God has judged us.  God has placed many people in our paths that are needful if we can but see past our initial judgment of them.  For mayhap we might even be able to enjoy a Wonderful Pie, even if it was made with a disagreeable ingredient.

Practicing Muchly

 

One day, in the House of Waldron, there went up a din as of the voices of a great people at war.  Sadly, though, there was no voice of an intruder within our household, but merely the voices of my two eldest children.  They were crying out with emotion filled tones so that even those living in Indonesia might, perhaps, have heard them, had they only known to pay attention.

"Vincent Waldron!"  My eldest child spake in an anguished voice.  "Thou hast practiced more than Thy Fair Share!  The time has come for thee to pause thy practicing for a time, times and half a times!"

"Anna!"  Vincent responded in a voice as filled with despair, as if someone had eaten the last chocolate zucchini muffin and had left him only crumbs for breakfast.  "I know that it fair Drives You Crazy that I practice my String Bass muchly, but it is no Skin off thy Nose, for I would have a place in the orchestra this fall and that taketh much work.  Further, you play flute and therefore I will not steal thy place within the orchestra -- not though I was ever so much better than I am."

"What is the problem?"  I asked my progeny.

"We are keeping track of half hours of practice time for the orchestra camp in August," Anna told me disgustedly.  "My dearest brother has already practiced five hours more than I have!  Even worse, he continueth to practice muchly and I would have him Slow Down, so that I mightest catch up a little."

I frowned.  'Tis an interesting and sticky problem to deal with.  Most parents struggle to get their children to dedicate themselves to practice, but my oldest children play their instruments a great amount.  They practice thus without a Nagging Word.  They are not always so dedicated to household chores, but that is Another Story for Another Blog.

"Anna, Anna," I said.  "You have much care and worry, and I am glad that thou desirest to practice.  Yet, it is not a great trial to thee if thy brother practices also.  Yea, if he should pass thy total by fifty hours, yet, if thou hast done thy best, what is that to thee?"

The Apostle Paul wrote to the church at Colosse, "Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not unto men." (3:23)

A great challenge presents itself to each one of us.  First, we are to do our very best, working whole heartedly to accomplish the things set before us.  More than that, we are called to perform our tasks for an Audience of One.

Perhaps it seems that we fall behind -- that our best is worse than the minimal efforts of our co-workers.  Just so long as it truly is our best, we have nothing to be ashamed of and Our Master will gladly accept the gift of our service.

For, though we may fall behind ever so far in half hours of practicing, if we have used our time wisely, all will be well.  Verily, there is much to do in this world than simply practice musical instruments -- even if orchestra camp is looming ever closer on the horizon.

A Parable of Zucchini

 

Lo, on a certain day in the year of Our Lord 2023, I went forth to my Garden and behold, it was more like to a very weedy field than to the Garden of Eden.  Yet, even in the midst of the weeds, a few plants did fight a desperate battle for survival against the tangle of invaders.

To one of these plants I went and stooping, I collected not one, but two cylindrical vegetables.  Proudly, I returned to the house with my new friends tagging along.

“Look, O children!”  I crowed, holding a loft what I had found.  “Thy Father, Master Gardener that he is, hath discovered not one, but two zucchinis in our garden.”

Forthwith, my son Elliot, made a terrible groaning sound, like unto a door turning upon very rusty hinges.  If I did not know better, I would have suspected he had some dread malady like The Flux or perhaps Squinsy.  “O, My Father,” spake he.  “Far be it from me to Rain on Thy Parade, but lo, it is but a few days since thou didst last plunder the garden.  On that day, like today, the only thing we gained by it was an Awful Big Zucchini.”

Verily, my younger son well-nigh despises squash, even as a forest fire fears a heavy rain.  Though, as far as I can discern, the zucchini plants have never done him any harm.

“O, My Father,” spake he once more.  “Why didst the Creator make something like zucchini and further, in a world with freedom of choice, why wouldst thou plant such a thing in a beautiful garden like ours?”

“I know not the answer to thy first question,” I said.  “Although perhaps twas that when Adam fled the Garden to earn his keep by the sweat of his brow, God decided to give him a little boon – a plant that would bear well, even when all other vegetables fail.”

“As for the second question,” I continued.  “Thy mother and I both like zucchini – hence our willingness to foist this gourd shaped cross on our family.”

As I contemplate zucchini, I see little reason for hatred.  Seldom does one actually taste the squash.  Instead, the zucchini adds moisture and texture, even while the other ingredients have room to be themselves.  For zucchini is not like pumpkin or corn, where it needs to be the center of attention in a recipe, but rather it enhances the other ingredients to create such a delight as zucchini bread.

I wonder if we could do better at emulating zucchini in our lives.  It would be a veritable blessing if we were able to enhance every situation we find ourselves in, without requiring those who are around us to conform themselves to our likeness.

Therefore did the Apostle Paul say, "Wherefore receive ye one another, as Christ also received us to the glory of God."  (Romans 15:7)

A world in which each one of us attempted to enhance the qualities of others, rather than forcing them to become feeble images of ourselves, would be a wondrous place.  Let us then act like zucchinis, loving and encouraging others around us to be their best selves.

A Nice Camera?

 

 

“You must have a really nice camera,” the lady told me.  “Your photos always look great.”

“I guess I do have a nice camera,” I said.  “Although, I have learned how to get the most out of my camera too.”

“It must be nice to have a camera that can capture such beautiful colors,” she said with a sigh.  “I just use my phone for most things and I guess it’s OK.”

“True,” I said.  “Phone cameras are quite capable these days.  They are probably more capable than a lot of the film cameras people to use in the past.”

“You probably have special filters you use on your pictures?”  She asked.

“Not really.  I tweak things in Lightroom, but I try to get things right in my camera so I don’t have to do a bunch of editing after the fact.

I have found the discussion of photography to be a discouraging one.  Most people are convinced that the true source of great photos (not saying mine are great) is awesome cameras and lenses – with a hearty helping of Photoshop poured on top, like sausage gravy on biscuits.

The reality is that taking good landscape images requires waking up early (sunrise is often somewhere between 5:30 and 6 am depending on where you live) and struggling out to a location where you can capture some beautiful light – before the sun ever peeps above the horizon.  Using a tripod is helpful too, as it allows you to keep your camera steady in those moments when it is too dark to have a fast shutter speed.

More than all of that, it takes effort to learn how to get the most out of a shooting situation.  When your photos don’t look the way you want, you need to sit down and think about what settings you messed up and how you could fix it in the future.

This is the way it is in life.  You generally get out of something what you invest in it -- and maybe just a little bit more.

The Apostle Paul said, "Not that I have already attained or am already perfected, but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold on me. (Phil. 3:13)

So many people claim that they want a deeper relationship with God.  They want the sort of confidence that the great men and women of faith had.  I am convinced that the issue is not that people don't have the right version of the Bible, or lack the right devotional books.  The issue is simply that folks aren't willing to sit down and focus themselves on their Heavenly Father.  They don't cry out to Him and they don't listen to His voice.

If anyone could have claimed to have things down perfectly, it was Paul, but still he saw much that needed perfecting.  Still, he pressed on to deepen his relationship with Jesus.

So the question comes clearly, what do you spend the moments of each day on?  If you spent half the time you spend online or Netflix on your relationship with God, what would it look like?

There is no investment better than pouring ourselves into our connection with our Heavenly Father.  What we do today will decide who we are tomorrow.

Let's not live as though the only reason that someone has better pictures is because they have a better camera.

Of Banjos and Lawn Mowers

 

"I'm playing the guitar!"  Elise said dramatically, to anyone who would listen.

"Interesting," I said.

Then, Elise picked up a fly swatter and began to gently strike the strings of the guitar with the flying insect killing device.

"I've never heard anyone play a guitar with a fly swatter before," Vincent commented.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"  I asked and got no answer.  In fact, the silence was fairly deafening.  "Vincent, do you know the difference between a banjo and a lawn mower?"  

"You can play music on the banjo?"  Vincent hazarded a guess.

"No," I said.  "You can't tune a banjo!"

"That doesn't make any sense," Vincent said.  "You can't tune a lawn mower."

"You can tune the engine of a lawn mower -- tune it up," I said.  "Anyway, it is more of a joke making fun of banjos than it is a statement that elevates those who play law mowers in the orchestras across our great land."

It is interesting how easy it is to identify someone else as "other."  Whether it is violinists calling violists slow or the rest of the orchestra making fun of banjo players, it is all too easy to make fun of someone else.

Paul told the Galatians "For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.  There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female; for ye are all one in Christ Jesus." (Gal. 3:26,27)

The point, of course, is not that everyone is exactly the same.  Oboists, violinists, and even accordionists all have different talents and yet all are accepted with God on the basis of Jesus' atonement.

Our tendency is to exclude other groups as not worthy of the kingdom, or simply needing to clean things up before they can enter in.  Instead, God makes it clear that His grace is broad enough to reach all groups -- even musicians who play guitars with fly swatters.

The Kiddie Pool

 

"I think that little pool is the kiddie pool," Victoria said.

"Probably," Anna agreed.

"No!"  Elise said, depositing her two pennies worth of opinion into the conversation quite forcefully.  "It isn't!"

"Yes, it is," Victoria said definitively.  With the backing of her older sister, Victoria was secure in her knowledge and willing to defend it against all attackers.

"No, it isn't a kitty pool," Elise said, refusing to give an inch.  "Kitties don't swim.  Maybe big cats swim, but not kittens!"

I had to chuckle.  Communication is an issue on lots of different levels, even between an eight-year-old and her three-year-old sister.

It seems that human relationships are fraught with miscommunication.  It isn't the problem of using unknown tongues or foreign languages.  The problem is that our underlying concepts and ideas are different and even though we are using familiar words, the people around us do not understand what we are trying to say.

If only it was as simple as clarifying the difference between the words 'often' and 'orphan' as in the operetta The Pirates of Penzance.  Unfortunately, it is often a lot harder to sort out our differences.  

Hebrews 13:16 tells us not to forget to communicate.  At first, this seems like an obvious command and something that hardly needs to be stated.

The longer I live, the more I realize that communication is not a given.  We need to realize that communication is not simply me saying what my opinions and ideas are with great force.

Communication is when I shut my mouth and sit down and listen and attempt to understand what the other person is really saying.  It will help with my relationships.  It may even let me know that my older sister is saying the word 'kiddie,' and not 'kitty.'

Selfies at the Falls

 

Five young women stood ahead of me at the overlook.  One by one, they turned their backs on the waterfall and held their phones lovingly, as they attempted to capture exactly the right pout on their lips, adding their loveliness to the scene of natural beauty behind them.

Having taken their individual selfies, they crowded together to take group pictures.  Having completed these images, they moved on to video themselves.

All this time, I stood patiently, craning my neck to try to see over the young ladies to glimpse the waterfall that lay behind them.

(This sort of thing happened at every single overlook on the way down the trail.)

When I finally approached the overlook, I didn't snap a single selfie.  I did take a few photos of the waterfall.  Then, I stood, paying attention to my senses, hearing the roar of the water cascading down the rock face, feeling the throb in the board walk I was standing on, and sensing the mighty power of God in it all.

I feel like there is a generation gap here.  I simply don't connect with the concept of selfies -- I've never felt like there is any scene that is enhanced by having my smiling mug in front of it.

What concerns me is not that people snap photos of themselves in front of random locations.  Folks have done that for longer than there have been cell phones.  I am worried that the need capture the perfect selfie robs individuals of the beauty that lies before (or actually behind) them.

Creation was an amazing place before Adam and Eve showed up on the scene.  I wonder if, in spite of their lack of smart phones, these two innocents enjoyed the world in a way that modern humans seldom do.

"O taste and see that the Lord is good," the Psalmist wrote.  "Blessed is the man that trusteth in Him."  (Psalm 34:8)

I wonder if he had written that verse today, maybe he would have changed it a little bit.

Perhaps it might go something like this:  "Put down your smart phone and use your five senses for just a little while and you will truly perceive how great God is and how wonderful is His Creation."

"Blessed is the man who trusts in Him."

Planting a Bigger Garden

 

 

“I was a little late getting my garden in this year,” the older man told me.  “I guess I just didn’t get around to it when I intended, but I’ve got my plants in now.”

I’m not sure what people in urban areas talk about.  I’m guessing sports and the weather, but when you live in the country, you talk to people about gardening.  If things are dry (as they are right now), you complain about how we’ve had less rain than usual for the time of year.  When the Japanese Beatles show up, you complain about them and tell about how you’ve put out traps for them.

(I’m pretty sure these traps don’t work.  They do attract beetles, but I’m also sure they would work better if I put them in my neighbor’s yard.  Being the Christian man I am, I haven't done that.)

“How late did you get it out?”  I asked. 

“Just last week,” he said.  He pulled out his phone and showed me a few photos of an immaculate garden.

“It looks great,” I said.  “You sure do have a lot planted.  I plant something similar, but I’m feeding five children.”

“It’s just my wife and me,” he said.  “We end up giving a lot of it away.  But you know, as you get older, there’s less that you can give to others.  Raising a garden helps us stay useful.”

The verse comes to me from Acts 20:35, “…remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how He said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’”

Many have not understood this fact.  Their lives are all about receiving gifts and blessings.  Even as they do this, they are missing the greater blessing.

The good feelings one gets from getting a gift are often fairly short in duration.  There is excitement when Christmas or a birthday comes, with all the gifts that show up, but then they quickly get put aside for the other needs of life.

On the other hand, when we are able to give, it says not only that we have enough, but that we have a heart that sees and desires to meet others needs.  We have realized that we have much and we simply want to pass it on.

More than that, the memory of the ways that we have blessed others will stick with us far down life’s road.

It requires planning to have the resources to give.  It takes effort to budget and prepare ways that we can bless others when we see their needs.

It might even be something as simple as planting and tending a garden that is bigger than our family needs, simply so that we can share something more than zucchini with those around us at harvest time.

Those who have prepared truly find that it is more blessed to give than to receive.

Church Signs

 

“God accepts knee mail.”

I read the sign and smiled a little.  Church signs have always amused me.  It seems that the folks who put the sayings on them usually fall into one of three camps.

There is a group that simply put a Bible verse or hymn title on them.  These are safe, although I'm guessing people don't pay as much attention to them as to some other signs.

There is a group of sign posters that simply puts the title of the pastor’s next sermon.  Of course, these can be creative depending on the preacher.  Some preachers are prone to choosing boring titles, like “Abraham a man of God" or "Honoring Your Mother on Mother's Day."

(I'm not one to cast stones -- I am terrible at choosing titles for things I share.)

The last group are those who try to get creative with the church signs.  These are funny things that often seem as though someone whose main calling in life is to tell Dad jokes decided to get into the church sign business.

“God wants spiritual fruits not religious nuts.”

One man told me that he had charge of a church sign for a while.  “I had a book of little sayings that I used,” he said.  “You don’t want them to be too long because then people can’t read the whole sign before they drive by.  They need to make people notice the sign."

I do wonder how many people stop in for a church service because of the church sign.  My guess is not many.  Those who go to church already have a church and those who don’t attend church aren’t likely to drop in, simply because the sign in front of the church made them chuckle.

The writer of Hebrews told the people to whom he was writing, “Don’t stop meeting together with other believers, which some people have gotten into the habit of doing. Instead, encourage each other, especially as you see the day drawing near.”

We need fellowship.  We need encouragement.  We need a church family – not because of their awesome signs, but because of the light they carry with them.  Without that encouragement and support we are bound to struggle.

As one church sign writer put it so well, 

"Ch—ch.  What’s missing?  UR!”

The End of School

 

“It’s only two more weeks,” I said in my sagest voice.

“Two more weeks till what?”  Victoria asked.

“Two more weeks till the end of school,” I said.  “Will you be sad that school is over?”

Victoria didn’t have to think long on that one.  “No,” she said.  “But I am excited about our field trip.  We are going to the zoo!”

What followed then was a long discussion of the animals at the zoo.  The North Carolina Zoo apparently has at least three different kinds of bears (Black Bears, Grizzly Bears, and Polar Bears), but not, Pandas.  Apparently, it is also lacking that, most important of animals, Naked Mole Rats.

For my children, the beginning of school seems a long time ago, an event shrouded in the distant haze of the past.  If they think hard enough, they can remember things about those early days of the 2022-23 school year, but it is almost as though it was a different person taking those classes.

I would say that my children are like most children.  They enjoy certain aspects of school, but they don’t really enjoy studying and doing schoolwork. 

They would far rather sit by a pool and eat popsicles.

All good things come to an end, but so do experiences we don’t enjoy.  Psalm 30:5 says, “For His anger is but for a moment, His favor is for life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

For mountain climbers, there comes a time when they reach the summit and can look back on all of the struggles that lay behind them and bask in the suns rays as they strike the peak.  The struggle was real, but those who persevered found that it didn’t last.

So too, there comes a time at the end of each school year when children can look back and see, as in a blur, a myriad of tests and quizzes, pizza parties and papers, and realize that it soon will end.  Whether or not the year was a success is based on the lessons learned and friendships nurtured and not simply on the grades earned in each class.

It is helpful for us to remember this.  The hard times seem to last forever, while the good times, just the blink of an eye.  Even when are struggling we must remember that difficult times do come to an end as well.  The question is whether we are learning the right lessons from them and developing strong relationships.  These are things that will carry us from the sorrow of the evening into the joy filled morning.