Monday, April 25, 2016

His Voice


His Voice
Rummaging through boxes of acquired memories from forty-one years of family life, I found a box of VCR tapes. What a surprise. I had forgotten that we once had a video camera that recorded our early years as a family. I got excited and wanted to see what was on those tapes. The only problem was I no longer had a VCR recorder. Like almost everyone else we had gone DVD.
When someone told me that you could take these tapes to Costco and for a price have them turned into DVDs, I got excited. On my next visit to Costco, I brought one VCR just to see how much it would cost and if it could really be made into a DVD. To my surprise all things are possible at Costco. I was told it would take a few weeks and $20. I knew I was about to experience “back to the future.”
Judy and I were nearly in tears as we watched the past unfold before our eyes. On this disc was a trip my parents made to visit us when we lived in Havre, Montana. They traveled out from Minnesota in an RV. Just to see our kids at a young age again and us looking not so old was a real treat. We laughed and cried as we had a glimpse into the past.
For me, the most remarkable thing was hearing my father’s voice again. I was shocked that after fourteen years, I heard his voice. One never forgets the voice of a parent. Dad’s deep tone resonated in my ears as he spoke, yelled and laughed all those years ago. What memories flooded back with the sound of his voice. I am thankful that I could again hear his voice.
Jesus has something to say about his voice: “The gatekeeper opens the gate for the shepherd and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”
Jesus knows your name. Do you recognize his voice?



Monday, April 18, 2016

Brother Rufus


Brother Rufus
At this stage of my life, I have the luxury of looking back and calling to mind people God has placed in my path. It is mind boggling as I realize that my life has been touched by of all kinds of people. There are those who greatly impacted my life and ministry and others who walked with me just for a season.
Brother Rufus is one of those people. I met Rufus when I was pastoring a small Episcopal church in a multi racial neighborhood of Minneapolis. Having moved from rural Montana to the inner city was more than a cultural shock. Having extended family nearby was some comfort but it was a whole new world of ministry.
I don’t remember how I met Rufus. It must have been at some local clergy gathering. He reached out to me and we became friends. Rufus, had recently started an inner city church not far from ours. As we got to know each other, he invited me to a midweek service. Since they did not have a church building they meet in an abandoned movie theatre.
Well, I tell you that service was quite different from the starched order of service I was used to. People were jumping up and down, clapping and shouting Halleluiahs and Amens. I saw people slayed in the Spirit, demons delivered and bodies healed. I was the only white guy in church that night. It was a real eye opener for Pastor Dan!
 Years later after Brother Rufus and I lost touch, I showed up at a Sunday morning service. They were now meeting in a regular church building. When Rufus spotted me, he jumped off the platform and welcomes me as a long lost brother. He introduced me to the saints and I felt right at home in an all black church.
God sure does work in mysterious ways. I wonder what Brother Rufus and his wife Diane are doing now. I’ll bet they are doing just what the Lord has for them: praising Him with all their might and bringing hope and healing to hurting people. Thanks Rufus for being my friend.

Monday, April 11, 2016

Birdbath


Birdbath
There is an old cement birdbath sitting in Judy’s garden. There is nothing attractive about it. It is scared and chipped with a rust-grey mold lining the bowl. With all the colorful birdbaths on the market, you would think my birdbath is beyond salvation. Except for the fact that it is a family heirloom and my inheritance.
This birdbath goes back some sixty years. I remember the day my dad brought it home. Back then it was new and beautiful. It became the centerpiece of the large horseshoe garden in our yard. How do I remember? Because my siblings and I were the slave labor that weeded this garden and kept the birdbath clean and filled.
As I moved on in life, I forgot about the birdbath. When my parents moved from one home to another, the birdbath followed. I am not sure how it came into my possession. But I do remember some conversation among family members wanting to get rid of the eyesore. Because I was old enough to remember its origin, I said I would take it. I figured it would be a visible reminder of my youth.
It has been in my possession now for some time. It has accompanied me on several moves to and from Montana. No worse for wear; it is an oasis for birds, deer, and bear in our neighborhood. Our grandkids love to splash each other with its water and float flowers from the garden there as well. When I turn on my computer, there is a photo of our garden in full bloom with the old birdbath in the middle.
On the warm summer afternoons, I sit on the patio under the colorful awning and watch the robins, wrens, chickadees, western tanagers, and humming birds stop by for a free drink or a quick bath. I am reminded of the old hymn: “All things bright and beautiful, al creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful, the Lord God made them all. He gave us eyes to see them, and lips that we might tell how great is God Almighty, who has made all things well.” Amen!




Monday, April 4, 2016

Be Prepared


Be Prepared
I am thankful that my parents encouraged me to join the Boy Scouts. Early on they saw that I had a need to be active in something other than getting in trouble. It didn’t take me long to catch on that scouting was fun and a safe place to explore life in the great outdoors. I started out as Cub Scout then a Boy Scout and an Explorer Scout.
When I wasn’t in school, I was scouting. Along with the weekly meetings, there were summer and winter campouts. I learned how to tie knots, shoot a gun, make a fire, use Morse Code, portage a canoe, pack a Duluth Pack, cook with a Dutch Oven, track animals, recognize flora and fauna, find the Big Dipper, basic First Aid, sharpen a knife, chop with an ax and a myriad of other practical life skills.
When I was in Boy Scouts I advanced as far as Star Scout and earned the honor of Order Of The Arrow. As I matured, I became Assistant Troop Leader. During my summers off from the seminary I worked at a large Boy Scout Reservation as a Camp Director and finally as Personal Director. I say all of this not to brag but to acknowledge the role Scouting had in teaching me life skills but also the opportunity to grow in leadership skills.
The motto of the Boy Scout Movement is “Be Prepared.” For an overly responsible person like myself, this was meat to eat. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this motto has defined my life. I have come to realize that life doesn’t allow you to be prepared for everything but it does give you plenty of opportunity to be physically, emotionally and spiritually prepared for life’s surprises.
Recently, I woke up in the middle of the night with a song running through my head. It was one I had not sung for over fifty years. In fact, the last time I sang it was around a campfire. “Softly falls the light of day while our campfire fades away; silently each Scout should ask, ‘Have I done my daily task? Have I kept my honor bright? Can I guiltless sleep tonight? Have I done and have I dared everything to Be Prepared.’” Scout Vesper Prayer