Orange Cords

Orange Cords

When I was in high school back in the 60’s, I got into clothes. I was tired of lined jeans and flannel shirts. The crowd I was hanging around started dressing nice: white long sleeve shirts, bell-bottom pants and white suede shoes. I think Elvis had something to do with setting our dress code. The girls started taking notice of my handsome appearance.

That Christmas I had only one wish. I wanted a pair of orange corduroy pants that I saw advertised in a department store. I could envision myself strutting down the school halls in my orange cords with everybody turning their heads wondering who was that dapperly dressed guy. In my dreams!

I started hinting to my parents about the only thing I wanted for Christmas, those orange cords. Being one of a number of siblings, I had to think of creative ways to make sure mom heard what was going to be the most important gift this Christmas. I was positive that she got the message and had my gift already bought, wrapped and under the tree.

I think everybody at some point in their life is disappointed when they unwrap a Christmas gift. I can't put into words how disappointed I was when the orange cords weren’t there. I couldn't believe it. Didn't mom hear me? I only asked for one thing and it wasn't even that expensive. I was so upset I don't even remember what present I did get.

I never got to wear orange corduroys. Of all the Christmas’ I have enjoyed, I still remember a gift desired but not received. Reflecting back on that disappointment, I see that life has a lot more to offer than an unfulfilled desire. I also have learned that often there is more joy in giving than receiving. I embrace what the Bible says: “God loves it when the giver delights in the giving.”

 Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year.

Loading Room

Loading Room

If you are a Montanan or a gun enthusiast, you already know about a loading room. For those who are neither, a loading room is a designated area where you keep you guns, ammo and reloading equipment. It is the equivalent of a man cave. On Saturday afternoons in the cold of winter, you will find diehard rednecks there reloading ammo for next year’s hunting season.

It was a cold February Saturday afternoon when I knocked at the door of Tom’s loading room. I knew he would be there and I was in desperate need of blowing off some steam. I came in, slammed the door and threw my keys on bench. In no uncertain terms I told Tom I was done preaching, parenting and being a husband. I told him I was taking the next Amtrak train out of town and not telling anyone where I was going. I had it!

Tom, a man who was married for a long time and raised a family, didn't skip a beat. He just kept reloading while I kept venting. Finally, when I paused to take a deep breath, he told me to sit down and have a beer. Apparently there was no rush since the train wasn't due in town for a couple of hours.

No sooner had I taken a couple of swings from my Bud Light when Ed, my other friend, showed up. Sensing the seriousness of the situation he closed the door and sat down. Now I had an audience for my frustrations. You see, both Tom and Ed, were elders in church I was pastoring. They weren't about to let me get on that train.

What followed was the adult version of a trip to the woodshed. They let me have it. They spared no words to inform me that the pity party was unacceptable. They understood the pressures I was under but were unwilling to let me wallow in self-pity. Several hours later, I left the loading room, keys in hand, in better shape than when I came. The problems were not solved but I knew these guys had my back.

I have never forgotten that Saturday afternoon and the counsel given me. I shutter to think where I would be without the wise words of those men. The Bible says: “Faithful are the wounds of a friend who corrects out of love and concern…. As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens and influences another through discussion.”

NRA

NRA

Nope! Not the National Rifle Association. I am a member of that organization. I own guns and have a concealed weapons permit. I enjoy my 2^nd Amendment right to bear arms. If you ever visit our church you will be quite safe because a number of congregants are packing.

The NRA I want to talk about is Not Right Always. I have lived long enough to know that even though I would like to be right, many times I am not. Although thinking I am right has a nice feel to it, I have learned the hard way to think before I speak. On occasion I have had to rise above my strong convictions and admit that I was wrong.

My need to be right has more to do with perspective than reality. I don't always get the facts straight before I speak. That has led to egg on my face followed by apologies. My fact checker runs far behind my vocal skills. Consequently, humble pie is a frequent meal.

By adding a short suffix onto “right” you get “righteous.” Interestingly enough, the derivative of this compound word carries the meaning of right wiseness. Wisdom, a rare commodity in the public forum these days, takes into account not only truth but also relationships. I am embarrassed to admit the number of arguments with my wife that I felt I won based on the truth, at least as I understood it, did damage to our relationship. Truth without wisdom erodes relationships.

We are living in a culture where people not only have an opinion but have the freedom to express it. It’s when there is disagreement that relationships can start breaking down. Have we lost the art of agreeing to disagree without tearing the fabric of relationships? Are healthy relationships more important than my need to be right? I thought that was what civil discourse was all about.

A reminder from the Bible: “Grow a wise heart, you'll do yourself a favor. Keep a clear head, you'll find a good life.”

Crèches

Crèches

Judy and I went Christmas shopping at a gift store here in Bozeman. As we looked at the beautiful display of gifts, Judy mentioned that there were no nativity sets. In past years, at the same store, you could find at least half dozen different ones. This year there were none.

What's happening to Christmas? It comes at no surprise that retail sales have overshadowed the baby in a manger. It is now illegal in many places to display any Christian symbols on public property. Here in Bozeman a beautiful Ten Commandments monument which was prominently displayed on Main Street was removed and later relegated to an obscure corner in a community organization park.

As Christians, it is another reminder that we have to come to terms with the fact that our culture has turned a corner. No longer is the Bethlehem story heralded in the market place. We are left with the cold reality that our world has little interest in a Savior who has come to heal our hurts and fears. Without the hope that the Christ Child brings, we are left with a plastic tree laden with ornaments, colored lights, and tinsel. How sad!

What shall we do? This past week I saw a post on Facebook that challenged me. The title: Want To Keep Christ In Christmas? “Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, forgive the guilty, welcome the unwanted, care for the ill, love your enemies, and do unto others as you would have done unto you.”

It's not religious ornamentation that defines Christmas. It's Christians who are willing to put feet to their convictions and do what Jesus does. We maybe losing public appeal but there is growing opportunity to show our stuff. Into the darkness have come many shining lights: us!