Mangy Moose

Mangy Moose

There has been some question among my faithful blog readers on how I chose the name “Mangy Moose.” So I decided that I would explain the “why” of this name and my fascination with moose. Let me say that this blog title was not my first choice. I wanted to use “Dan The Man” but somebody out there in cyberspace got there before me.

The name “mangy moose” was my creation as a CB handle when we ran a ski lodge near Bozeman, Montana. This was the time before cell phones, smart phones or the Internet. The only way to communicate with Judy while I was in the truck plowing snow, running to town to pick up guests or supplies was by CB. That is the name I chose and it has stuck with me ever since. The 1050 part is our current street address. Thus ends the mystery.

I do confess a fascination with moose. Living here in the mountain west, the moose is a fairly familiar sight. In the winter, if you drive up to Big Sky and stop to shop at the Meadow Village, often you can see a cow moose and her young one roaming the sidewalks. Several weeks ago there was a report of a bull moose wandering around the neighborhoods of a small community near Bozeman.

Moose are majestic animals. They are very large and very unpredictable. They like wooded marshland and tend to be loners. I have seen them up close and heard lots of stories about hunters being cornered in a tree by an angry moose. They are to revered and feared!

Here is Advice from a Moose I found on a birthday card I sent my son in law recently:

Think Big. Spend time in the woods. Eat plenty of green. Hold your head up high. Stay on track. Keep your nose clean. It’s ok to be a little wild!

Good advice coming from one of God’s unique creatures.

Late For A Funeral

Late For A Funeral

It was a lazy June afternoon. I had just returned from a two-week trip to East Africa teaching at a Pastors Conference. Recovering from jet lag, I was in my office at church when I received a call from the local funeral director. He informed me that the family of a deceased church member was waiting for me at the funeral home. Was I planning on coming over?

This church member had died some months before and was cremated. The widow wasn’t up to a burial at that time. Before leaving for Africa, a date was set upon my return. With all that goes into re-entry after an overseas trip, I promptly forgot all about the service. The family didn’t and was gathered at the funeral home wondering what happened to their pastor.

When I received the call, I was dressed in jeans and a short sleeve shirt, presentable enough to perform the service. Speeding across town, I made it  there in record time. I was so flustered as I walked in that I could hardly speak. No excuse would be good enough to explain my poor memory. In all my years of ministry this was the first time I forgot to show up at a funeral. A sure sign I was starting to slip.

The widow and the family were very gracious. We were good friends and they were generous is their forgiveness. On the way to the cemetery all I could do was try to pull myself together and focus on what I needed to say at the graveside. I must have sounded like an idiot because I kept losing my place in the prayer book and the family kept laughing because they had never seen me so shook up.

Somehow I made it through still feeling embarrassed at my meager performance as their pastor. As we were walking back to the car, the widow thanked me for coming. She gave me a big hug and presented me with a plastic case about the size of a shoebox. She told me that her late husband would want me to have this as thank you gift. As I opened the box inside was a brand new Smith and Wesson stainless steel revolver! I confess that God does work in mysterious ways.

Abigail

Abigail

It is a privilege of grandparents to brag about their grandchildren. Maybe it’s because we don’t have to do much but love them and spoil them that makes bragging easier. In any case, I want to tell you about our first grandchild, Abigail.

This past week Abigail turned eight. Her parents, siblings and grandparents celebrated her birthday at Fuddruckers’s. In the midst of all the noise, food and presents, I saw that Abby was growing up and already turning into a young woman. One of her birthday presents was having her ears pierced. I realized this was another milestone. It won’t be that long before she drives a car, graduates from high school and falls in love.

I don’t think she knows yet that her namesake is a famous woman in the Bible. The story can be found in the Old Testament book of 1 Samuel 25. There was a beautiful woman named Abigail who was married to a man named Nabal. In Hebrew Abigail means, “cause of joy” and Nabal means, “fool.” You will have to get your Bible out and read the story to find out why Abigail is one of the most revered women in Scripture.

The reason I mention the Abigail of old is a poem that Abby wrote. I think it was a homework assignment from school. I any case I believe it gives us a glimpse into the heart of the true Abigail. The title is “What Is Abby?”

“Abby is turquoise, Like the shinning moon, Bright on the lake at night.

     Abby is like ice cream on a stick.

         Abby is like snow, Landing on a nose.

             Abby is kind as dolphins.

                 Abby is like Tinker Bell.

I got bragging rights on this Abigail!

Best Christmas Ever

Best Christmas Ever

When the kids grow up and move away, spending the Holidays together becomes increasing difficult. There are other options to chose from such as celebrating with the spouse’s relatives or just staying home creating your own traditions. So it’s a rare treat to have everyone together for Christmas.

This was the year everybody came to Bozeman. Katie, our youngest and her husband David flew in from Nashville. Shaun, our oldest, flew in from Portland, Oregon with his wife Ansley and daughter Sophia. Along with our son Tim and other son Nick and his wife Jackie and children, Abby, Ella and Ben who live here in Bozeman, our family was once again together for Christmas.

We had a great time. Besides spending Christmas Eve at our house, we celebrated Christmas Day at Nick and Jackie’s new home. There were lots of presents under the tree and plenty of surprises including an unexpected appearance from Santa Claus. We were all together for church on Sunday morning at Foothills Fellowship with David playing bass guitar for worship.

That was only the beginning of our fun. Judy and I took the grandkids on a sleigh ride without their parents. We bundled up and rode on a horse drawn sleigh “over the river and through the woods.” There were times of sledding on the golf course hills and snowshoeing in the deep dark forest. Then there was our annual Sleigh Ride dinner for the adults at Lone Mountain Ranch in Big Sky. Hardly a moment’s rest the whole week!

The last night together we ordered in Chinese food (our usual New Year’s Eve meal). Sitting around that table, absorbing all the memories of Christmas’ past with family was almost too much to process. Later we sat by the fire in the living room while David entertained us with guitar and song.

It was sad to have Christmas end and everyone return to everyday life. But Judy and I are most thankful for the memories of the best Christmas ever.  

Grilling An Elk

Grilling An Elk

It was a pristine winter morning in Montana, fresh snow on the ground and the sun bright against the blue sky. The road to White Sulphur Springs was snow packed and icy, a perfect day to hunt some elk. My hunting partners were Hal and Tyrell. We were taking advantage of an extended elk season in mid December.

Hunting elk is no easy proposition. It’s a lot of hard work hiking and scoping to find them. The elk tend to hang out in dense timber and come out in the early evening to feed on farmers’ haystacks. Once spotted, there is a technique to stalking them until you are in range to shoot. The work really begins when you kill one. There is on site gutting, quartering and hauling the meat out. You have to be in good physical shape to hunt these critters.

We spent the day spotting and sneaking but to no avail. As the sun began to set, tired and disappointed we called it a day. It was a two-hour drive back to Bozeman so we packed up and headed out. Just south of White Sulphur, we spotted a lone cow elk standing on the highway. Barreling down on the elk, we tried to maneuver around her but she turned around and looked us right in the eye.

Let me tell you what it’s like to hit a five hundred pound elk with a one-ton Ford truck at forty miles an hour. You see lots of fur and legs and flying plastic along with a loud thud! All the while the three of us were saying “Oh No.” Then there was a crunch, crunch as the truck and utility trailer ran over the now deceased elk. We were in shock.

By the time we got the truck stopped, we jumped out to survey the damage. There were plastic parts everywhere. The front grill was gone and the radiator pushed in and leaking fluid. We limped back to town and waited for a ride back to Bozeman. It was a long day of hunting.

You could say we got our elk and grilled it all in one without firing a shot. It turned out to be a very expensive hunt.

Other Side Of The Mountain

Other Side Of The Mountain

It’s funny how life takes you places you never thought you would go. It’s a good thing that we don’t always know what life has in store for us. Sometimes I wish I could see what the future held but in my more sane moments I am thankful that I don’t know. It would ruin the surprise.

Judy and I got married forty years ago in a little stone chapel in Duluth, Minnesota. At the time we thought we would make our home along the shores of Lake Superior. It wasn’t two months later; we were in a U Haul, heading in the opposite direction. Our life together started by running a ski lodge in the Bridger Mountains of southwest Montana. I would have never guessed that would happen.

But that was just the beginning. After three ski seasons at the lodge, we packed up and moved into a small parsonage in Helena, the capital of Montana for two years and then on to the inner city of Minneapolis for six years. Hard to believe but now it was back in the U Haul for a return trip to Montana, this time on the Hi Line in Havre. It was here we bought our first home and lived there for nine years.

Just when we felt that we had finally settled in for a long season in Havre, it was time to load two U Hauls and head back to Minneapolis. We bought our second home and prepared for a long stay. That lasted eight years before another and hopefully our last U Haul trip. Three moves from Minneapolis to Montana are enough for one marriage.

The irony of all this is that now we live on the opposite side of the mountain where we started all those years ago. Yes, here we are in Bozeman again where we spent the first years of our marriage. We have aged and the city has grown but the mountains remain the same. I must say that the Bridger Mountains grow on you. The beauty of the snow capped peaks against the big, blue sky continues to be a feast for the eyes.

The Bible says, “The mind of man plans his ways, but the Lord directs his steps.” I confess that my mind could never plan what God had in store for us. All those miles have finally brought us home.

Giving

Giving

Many years ago I was at a large auditorium for a conference. There were thousands of people there praising and thanking God. When it was time to take the offering, the leader gave an animated plea for hilarious giving on the part of those attending. He asked us to bow our heads and seek the Lord as to how much we should give.

I dutifully bowed my head and told the Lord I was willing to give $25. I thought that was a generous amount considering my present financial condition. It was not an audible voice, but I am sure He said. “How about $50?” I thought I can’t afford that. Then again He said, “How about $100?” I though “wait a minute this is getting out of hand.” Before I heard more instructions from on high, I wrote a check for $100 and dropped it in the white plastic KFC bucket when it came my way.

I was not a happy camper when I let go of my hard earned cash at that conference. I had always put something in the offering plate but never that much. Sometime later I read in the Bible “God loves it when the giver delights in the giving.” Another translations says, “God loves a cheerful giver.”

I’ll be honest with you; it has taken a long time to change my attitude from thinking like Scrooge to being a “cheerful giver.” The real issue is who’s money is it? The bottom line is that all that I have comes from the Lord: my job, my health, and my very breath. It took encouragement from the Bible and friends to realize what a privilege and blessing it was to give cheerfully out of my own resource to bless others.

As I look back on that experience, I see that I needed a real heart change. Giving out of a generous heart is far better than giving because I have to. In the Book of Proverbs it says: “The world of the generous gets larger and larger; the world of the stingy gets smaller and smaller.” Amen!

Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year