When the Missionary Becomes the Mission Field

Eventually they get thrown out.  The people they trust get their nasty on and put them out like trash, wiping their hands back and forth as if to say "We never wanted your kind here in the first place."

I've seen it happen many times.  Men of God - hard working men - who are called into ministry and try their best to obey, to serve, to lead, keeping in mind that one person can not please everyone. 

Sooner or later these men do something to tick someone off.  Not just any someone.  Someone who is connected to the ear of a board member.  The ticked off party starts mouthing off a little bit - complaining (gossiping?) if you will - to his friends.  They in turn do likewise and eventually the entire organization is abuzz with discontented opinions about which "the board" feels the need to act.

Then come the secret meetings.  Shhhhh!!  We can't let so-and-so know we are meeting tonight because the meeting is about him.  Sheesh!  There ain't nothin wrong with that picture, eh?

Then there is the big public ugly that has to happen so that in case anyone had any doubt about what a scumbag this godly man is, they will have an opportunity to witness a grotesquely humiliating public flogging after which God's called servant has little choice but to get out of Dodge like a drunk being thrown from the saloon into the horse trough. 

Trouble is that most of the time these men haven't disobeyed the Lord.  They haven't acted immorally or done or taught anything unbiblical.  They simply ticked off the wrong person. So they got thrown out. Goodbye.  Adios.  Don't let the door hit you on the way out.  That's it then.  we officially wash our hands of you.  Oh, and by the way ... here's an envelope of money - a "love gift" - because we care about you SOOOOOOOO MUCH.

Soooo .... what happens next?  To the man of God I mean?  What's next for him, his wife, their children, their friends?

Um ... Uh ... You mean he still exists????  Even after we threw the bum out?

Well, yeah.  He still exists, he still has mouths to feed, a mortgage, children, car payments, etc ...
Oh, yeah, and he likely isn't eligible for unemployment.  Nice, eh?

This godly man who was called by God into the mission field ... IS the mission field now.  He needs help.  He needs all those things we tout ourselves as being called to do.  Fuel for the furnace.  Food for the table.  Clothing for his family to wear.  Cash to pay his bills.  He needs our prayers.  He also needs a good job placement counselor and relocation services.  Oh, yeah, and a good Christian psychologist would be good, too. He and his family need all those things he has led us to do for others.  He is now one of those "others."

So, before you vote to throw some poor bum out, stop and pray about it.  And after you have considered all the options and still come to the conclusion that he has to go, please be sure to understand the long-term commitment of changing a missionary into a mission field. 

Don't just leave him in the desert.   

Sloan's New York Grill

I have to be honest.  When my wife and I entered the building we expected to see the same thing one generally finds when someone opens a new restaurant in a former steakhouse; the same old steak house with a redesigned menu.  However, that is far from what we discovered.


Located in Oneonta, NY in the former Ponderosa Steak House, Sloan's New York Grill is an elegant, cozy space with a stone fireplace and a full bar for those who wish to indulge.  The menu features natural, local meats that are also available to purchase by the pound from their meat counter.   At first it looked slightly pricey, but with sandwiches ranging from $8 to $11 including side dishes, it was affordable enough for a couple on a budget who want a quiet, intimate lunch.

I enjoyed the pulled chicken barbecue sandwich with curly fries and two of their specialty house pickles.  The chicken was lightly pulled - chunky rather than shredded - and slathered in a delicious sauce that was slightly more spicy than sweet.  The curly fries were well seasoned thin wisps of potato that were fried to perfection. The pickles?  Mild and sweet with a slight kick at the end.

My wife ordered a sandwich with deli turkey, provolone and bacon, drizzled with peppercorn ranch dressing.  The sandwich was so good she wants to learn how to make them at home!  Her soup (tomato basil) was creamy and sweet.  

The staff wore black t-shirts and jeans, reflecting the casual, simple lifestyle of upstate New York. Our server Rachel was friendly and attentive, making sure we were satisfied with everything.   She was professional and well trained, explaining the specials and answering all our questions about the menu.

A great experience!

I sing.

I sing.  That's what I do.  I'm not a rock star or an opera divo.  I sing - that's it.  That's what I do.

So ... like ... you play the guitar and sing and stuff?

No.  No guitar, no stuff.  I sing.

You play keyboards and sing and stuff?

No keyboard.  I sing.

So .... what are you, like a songwriter or something?

No.

Well, what do you do?

I, um, sing.  You know ... sing?  As in ... singing?

You mean you don't do anything?  You just ... sing?

Yes.

Oh.  

Yeah. 

I sing.

I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. (Psalm 13:6)

Praise the Lord! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting. (Psalm 147:1)

I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.(Psalm 104:33)

An Angry Bird By Any Other Name

It was a day full of surprises.  A dear friend and colleague showed up bearing gifts at our door - groceries of all things - and a fun activity for this rainy day.  She couldn't have shown up at a better time, as three of our children invited friends over and it was raining cats and dogs.  We needed something interesting to do.

She brought with her a bevy of wool in a rainbow of colors.  She brought needles and sponges for us to use.  She brought examples of her work for us to see.  Then she started us on our family needle felting adventure.

It was a blast!  My wife and I, along with our children and their friends made felt animals, birds, flowers and butterflies.  I had a very interesting project of my own.  It started out as an "angry bird" flamingo (I have a thing about flamingos). 

It looked like this before I stuck on it's nose.

Then I turned it upside down and realized it wasn't an angry bird after all.  Rather, it was a cross between Pat Morita and Danny DeVito. 

And with that, my artwork was complete.

It is said that, when sculpting wood or stone, that the material communicates to the artist what shape it will take.  I guess this proves it.

Is There A Target On My Back?

I don't normally talk about my dreams.  I dream in vivid detail about people and places, hopes and desires, frustrations and losses. Many of these are recurring themes that are best kept to myself.

However, there is one that I've been having recently, that I cannot figure out.  Here's how it goes ....

First, let me explain that there isn't a lot of action here.  It's more of an atmosphere, really.

There is a miniature golf green running the length of my childhood backyard.  Behind the hole is the front door from the house (large wooden door with beveled glass).

Sometimes there are people gathered around, sometimes it's just me.

There aren't any other things that would denote the area as that particular backyard, yet I know it's our backyard.

Last night in the midst of this dream a target appeared behind me as I was ready to putt my golf ball.  A familiar person was there with a crossbow, shooting arrows at the target and saying, "Relax. I'm not gonna hit you." 

I don't know what it means.  And even though it's pretty tame, it's just plain weird, and it keeps coming back.  

Hmmmmm .......

Come On, Elizabeth! It's Time For Church!

God called my mother home yesterday morning.  It was Sunday around 10:00 AM, the time she would have gone to church to prepare an array of organ music for Sunday morning services. When I was young, Dad would often call up the stairs, "Come on, Elizabeth.  It's time for church!"

DECISIONS, DECISIONS ...

We all knew Mom had mere weeks left on Earth, and that she would soon join Dad in Heaven.  As our annual vacation was coming up, we made the difficult decision to proceed with our plans for a week at the beach.  Mom had slightly different plans.  In the middle of the week, I received a call that Mom was in distress.

Another difficult decision ... What to do???

FLASHBACK TO 1979 ...

My grandmother (Nana) was in a nursing facility and had been ill for a few days.  My parents made the difficult decision to proceed with our vacation plans, and we went to Atlantic City.  Nana died while we were away, and we returned home immediately.  By the time we arrived, almost all the funeral arrangements were made, with a few exceptions.  Mom told me on more than one occasion that she regretted not letting me swim in the ocean one more time before we returned home.

FAST-FORWARD TO PRESENT ...


The next day she was still in distress, no change in her condition.  What would Mom and Dad do?  Time for another difficult decision.  We decided to let the kids swim for one more day, and go to the boardwalk one more night.

A late night text from my sister revealed that Mom may be holding on, waiting for someone. Maybe me.  Hmmmm ... We were heading home the next morning.  I could only pray that we arrived in time.

The next morning we arrived by Mom's bedside.  She slept the entire time while we visited with her, my brother, sister, spouses and kids.  As we left, I kissed Mom's forehead and said, "Go plant your garden.  We're all okay here,  It's alright if you want to go."

She held on.  She was waiting for something else.  Something none of us could fathom.  Something only she knew in her heart.

The next day was Sunday.  We awoke and ate breakfast and lounged around my in-laws' house, exhausted from our vacation, from the trip home, and from a long night a Mom's bedside.  Then the phone rang.

"Tommy?"
"Yes," I said.
"Mom died." My sister's words were emotional, but with a hint of relief, as we both knew Mom was finally happy.
"What time did she die?"
"They just called me.  She died a few minutes ago, a little before 10:00."

I think it suddenly dawned on us.  Mom wasn't waiting for any of us.  She was waiting for Dad to yell, "Come on, Elizabeth!  It's time for church!"

Yesterday morning, while we all mourned, Mom went to church with her husband for the first time in many years.  She and Dad are celebrating and praising God with glorious, pain free, heavenly bodies today and every day forevermore.

Mom's death is not a sad occasion.  She had been ill, living a tormented life in a tiny, frail body for far too long.  Her transition to Heaven is a celebration of her new life with all those who have gone before her.

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. 

 - Philippians 3:20-21

Happy Kids Day!!

Today is my Mom's birthday.  She's 81. This most likely will be her final birthday here on Earth, as she is ill and the doctors have indicated that she has only weeks left to live.  I was feeling very sad because I was not able to be there today to sing "Happy Birthday" to her (we did get to visit and sing to her a few days ago).  Sad that is, until my 8 year old son declared today "Happy Kids Day." 


He didn't realize it was his grandmother's birthday nor that I was feeling sad.  He only knew it had been a while since we celebrated something, and he decided to create something new.  "Happy Kids Day."

Today we ate pizza for breakfast and for lunch.  We also went swimming and had cheeseburgers and pickled eggs for supper.  We played video games and watched some kid-friendly TV. 

It's a perfect holiday for this day, because their Nana was always going above and beyond for her grandchildren.  Anything the kids wanted ... *POOF* ... there it was.

If they wanted ice cream ... No problem.
If they wanted to go to the playground all day ... No problem.
If they wanted to sit around and watch cartoons ... No problem.

Anything was possible when they were at Nana's house.

So, in honor of my mother, I think we will keep this new holiday tradition.

Happy Kids Day!!