Yearning For the Glory of God

The definition of yearning is "a deep longing, especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness."

I have had the privilege of experiencing the glory of God a couple of times in two churches that we've worked in. The first was in central California in the early 70s. For a period of months there was a wonderful sense of God's presence every time we met. People were saved, baptized in the Holy Spirit, healed and transformed. Interestedly, even though we had prayed for this move of God, after a few months it quietly changed. I wonder if God thought we had experienced everything He had intended for us?

The second time was a church we served in Grand Junction, Colorado in the mid 90s. This was at the height of the revival in Pensacola, Florida. Our pastor and several people from the church attended the revival and on their return, a several week move of God began in our church. Sadly, there was so much opposition to what our pastor wanted to see happen, it eventually resulted in him leaving the pastorate of the church. In spite of the opposition, again, peoples lives were changed, people met God in wonderful ways and people met God for the first time. I regret that I did not get a chance to attend any of the Pensacola services. I have always been hungry for a glimpse of the glory of God. There have been times in my life where I know I have seen a bit of His glory, and heard from him directly, but never in a consistent manner.

18 months ago there was a revival going on in Lakeland, Florida. I had almost made up my mind to make a trip there when it was discovered that the evangelist in charge of the revival had made some poor choices and needed to step out of the ministry for a time. Why is it that when it appears like God is allowing up to glimpse His glory, weird and crazy stuff begins to happen? I think the answer is that our battle is not with "flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavens." I also realize that notoriety of any kind brings pride and a headiness that is hard to resist. Another element is that I think people get so deperate to catch a glimpse of God's glory that humaness gets in the way and funny things get manufactured.

With all that said, I still have a yearning to know the glory of God. Sometimes I am sad that I am not more diligent in seeking God's face. "Oh Lord, help me dream dreams, see visions, be aware of Your glory. Help me to seek Your face. I want to know You."

Writing A Blog Is An Interesting Process

I wrote my first blog post on February 26, 2008. We had just returned from a building project in Mexico and had taken a few hours to visit an orphanage just outside of Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico. Since I can speak Spanish, I spent some time speaking with the founder of the orphanage, Hermana (sister) Josphina. Since Hermana Josephina only speaks Spanish, it was a priceless opportunity to spend time talking with her because none of our group was fluent in Spanish. I posted a picture of us talking that someone took that afternoon.

Today's blog, June 11, 2010, is number 143. I have written on all kinds of topics. I've told you about my family, our church, spiritual issues, political issues, great moments in my life and not so great times. As you have read my writing, you have discovered my spiritual values, my political leanings, my biases and likes and dislikes. It has been interesting to hear your feedback and the enjoyment many of you have received from reading about childhood memories. Many of my core values were formed by my parents who taught me by having conversations with me, and sometimes more importantly, living lives that clearly demonstrated values that are part of me today.

One of the posts that has been the most fun was when I told you that I had lost my chili pepper connection. I posted a picture of the jar. Within a couple of days I had a gift bag of peppers on my desk. This was followed by a case of peppers from the Choir at our church, and then by others of you who found the peppers in several stores in the St. Louis metro area. Since that post, I have never had to by another jar of Embasa guerito peppers. It also told me that a lot of people read my blog.

Lately, I have felt a prompting of the Holy Spirit to write blogs that are helpful to people caught in the uncertainty of the age we live in. I am caught in this uncertainty. We live in an amazing age, with advances in technology at an all time high. And yet, no one seems happy. Well, that will be a blog topic.

If you are a regular reader, thanks for reading. I hope to keep writing things that will keep bringing you back. Blessings...

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

Well, actually it isn't...I just needed a good title. Actually, though, if the lightning bugs would line up in a straight line, it might look like mini-lights outside.

I've been listening to new Christmas music for a couple of weeks. Last night I had a Christmas listening marathon, listening to musicals and individual songs. I spent some time thinking about presenting the timeless story this year again with our Choir, Orchestra, ensembles and drama group. As I read the lyrics of many of these songs, it reminded me again of the wonderful story of Christ's coming that never gets old. When you take some time to meditate on the story, I think the Holy Spirit gives us some insight that makes the story even more personal.

For instance, have you wondered about the task that the angel Gabriel had to carry out? He made the announcement to Mary about the baby that was going to be born by her. Can you imagine his confusion when he thought about his Lord, so vast that the universe could not contain Him, but now small enough to fit in a womb. Hands that formed the universe would now be tiny and almost useless. The creator of language that would have to be taught the words to communicate with His parents. Did Mary know she would be feeding the King of Kings and Lord of Lords? (I wonder if He ever threw cereal on the floor) Do you think Gabriel paced around in indecision as he pondered the message he was to deliver about someone he knew so differently?

I imagine that Gabriel was always fairly close to Jesus as he grew up. Protecting him, watching for danger, making sure that Jesus was well cared for. He may not have totally understood the plan, but he did know the Savior. I imagine that many times a day, perhaps under his breath, Gabriel could be heard singing the words, "Glory to God in the highest."

Enough thinking, back to the next song. I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas.

God's Incredible Creation

I am constantly amazed at God's creation. Creation that goes on despite any input from us. Creation that has been in existence from the beginning of time, and will go throughout eternity. The picture on the left is of a plant in the lily family that the former owners of our house planted. It comes up every year, just like clockwork. This year it has four beautiful blooms. Some years it has only had one. I purchased some caladium bulbs this year and planted them in various places. They are the ugliest bulbs you can imagine, but they come up in such a unique way. First a shoot comes up, it thickens and then begins to open. The caladium leaves in the picture have only been open this way for about three days. I have several others in various stages of opening, each one so different. Do you suppose that God took the time to design each plant, each flower, each vegetable? Do you think that the "days" of creation were actually longer time periods in which God took the time to design everything we see in a unique way?

For quite a while, the wallpaper on my work computer has been the Sombrero galaxy. Google "Hubble telescope" and search their site for a picture of it. It is a phenomenal example of one of God's huge creations.

So here we are, just a "vapor" in the span of time. Preoccupied with the economy, our jobs, raising our families, worried about the future, and on and on. And yet in my yard I have a wonderful example of God's word when He said in Matthew 6:28, "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin". The beautiful lily you see above is just there, pointing me to God and His infinite resources, His wonderful presence and His unqualified love for me. Maybe before I check my checking account balance tonight I'll go out and have another look at that lily.

A Wonderful Privilege

Majesty, Majesty. Your grace has found me just as I am. Empty handed but alive in Your hands. Majesty, Majesty. Forever I am changed by Your love, in the presence of Your Majesty, Majesty.

I love to lead and play this Michael W. Smith version of the song Majesty. It has a great melody line and beautiful chords. I have the wonderful privilege to be a worship leader, and a piano player. Sometimes I think I can worship better as a pianist than a singer. I am a mediocre singer, at best, but I am so grateful for the gift of playing the piano. For those of you who are not musicians, there are different ways of playing an instrument, and proficiency has nothing to do with it. Some musicians never get beyond the mechanical technique of playing. Others can only play with music in front of them and are limited to what the printed music allows them to play. I believe God gave me the gift of interpreting the printed music in a creative way that expresses worship in both a very personal way as well as shared with an entire congregation. One of the absolute joys of the past eight years has been to creatively worship with my friend, Jonathan Gathman. He is one of most creative musicians I have ever known. At times, the blending of his improvising on his cello and my piano playing would surprise us. There were times when we were playing for the prayer time at the conclusion of our Sunday evening service, that we would be stunned by the music that we produced. I really believe that the Holy Spirit anointed us in a manner that produced music that was beyond our ability to arrange or devise on our own. Sadly, that service doesn't exist anymore, so that opportunity does not exist any longer.

Worshipping God in playing is such a wonderful privilege. Thank you, Lord, for parents who sacrificed to give me piano lessons. Thank you as well for a teacher who taught me to improvise early on in my learning to play. Thank you West County Assembly of God for the opportunity to let me lead you in worship, and to play for you, and Him.

First Time Out With a "New To Us" Boat

Our family had an unexpected blessing last Thanksgiving. When we were celebrating Thanksgiving with my family in Columbus, Ohio, my brother-in-law, Terry Hedlund, asked me if would like to have their boat that was docked at Lake of the Ozarks. Terry and Lila (my sister) and my parents were preparing to move to Raleigh, North Carolina. They were preparing to sell their two Columbus homes and their Lake of the Ozarks home. Since the boat was on a lift dock to keep it out of the water, it did not have a trailer. After the holidays, I began a flurry of research to determine where the best place would be to buy a trailer. I found out the the Internet is an incredible place to do research and quickly got up to speed on trailers, price, size, features, etc. In April I traveled to Lebanon, Missouri, and purchased a brand new "last year's model" trailer for an amazing price. Then on May 3rd, Shawn and I met Terry at Lake of the Ozarks and took possession of the boat. We became the proud owners of a 1998 18' Bayliner Capri. We tried to remember everything that Terry told us about it. However, after today's "first outing", it is obvious we didn't remember it all.

We decided to go close to home. The Mississippi River, the Alton Pool, to be exact. I picked a state park with a free launch ramp andwe headed out. As we arrived at the launch ramp, we discovered that it did not any docks attached. This meant we had to start the boat and drive it off the trailer. Shawn tried his best, but he couldn't get it started. I had to crawl over the bow and into the boat to get it started. After a few tense moments, we finally got it going, put it in reverse and moved away from the launch ramp. With people waiting, it seemed like hours, but hopefully it was only a few minutes. Later as we were navigating down the river we decided to explore what looked like a lagoon. Just as we got to the mouth of the lagoon the boat suddenly came to a very sudden stop. Oops, we had found a sandbar. After several tense minutes (I think boats and tense go together), we finally got off the sand bar, only to discover that part of our propeller became a souvenir of this trip. Later we found a log, going 20 miles and hour, and decided maybe we should call it a day. After successfully getting the trailer down the ramp, Sam did his best, but he couldn't get the boat on the trailer. I got to wade into the water, attach the winch strap and winch the 2,000 pound boat onto the trailer. I think people were cheering when we finally pulled away, or was that people happy that they could use the ramp now. All in all, not too bad. We learned a lot. Now, back to the Internet to find out how much a new propeller costs. I don't think Walmart carries them...

A Future Marine

Shawn is our youngest. Last night he graduated from the eighth grade. I took him to school this morning to attend an 8th grade day at Six Flags and realized that this was the last time I would drive a student that lived in our house to middle school. Shawn is excited to attend high school. He is determined to get the highest GPA possible. He also has determined that when he graduates from high school, he is going enlist in the Marines. Here his plan has a couple of options. Last night he was suggesting that maybe he would make the Marines a career and attend college in midlife to train for a second career in law enforcement. He has also talked about getting out of the Marines after the initial commitment and going to college to train for a law enforcement career. Shawn is determined, he has been that way since being very little. When he focuses on a goal, he usually meets it. Very early he expressed his likes and dislikes. He always likes to do well, but not necessarily in front of a group. He is very athletic, but sometimes shy in being seen participating in a sport. Shawn has expressed an interest in trying out for football as a freshman. I hope he does it. He'll do well.

Shawn had a tough start as an infant. He was born addicted to a couple of drugs. Kathy held Shawn almost non-stop for two weeks as his little body cleared itself of the drugs. When we expressed an interest in adopting Shawn, the social services department of the county we lived in made sure we knew all of the possible problems that would likely come as Shawn grew up. After hearing all the disclosures, you would have thought we were buying land in a nuclear disposal site. We dedicated him to God and have prayed him through his 14 years. Most of the problems Shawn could have had, never surfaced. Shawn has great plans and we're praying that God will help him achieve them. Next stop, high school. Go Shawn...

Graduation - Part 2

As I mentioned in yesterday's graduation blog, Nicole is an adopted daughter. The amazing thing about foster children and adopted children is that, for us as parents, they become just like birth children immediately. The biggest difference is that foster children that we had in our home over the years needed a lot of prayer, love and care. Most of them had issues that required medical or therapy care. Many of them came to us in terrible shape. It's probably a good thing that we never kept track of the time Kathy and I (mostly Kathy) spent in doctor's offices, labs, traveling time, gas used, etc. If we knew in advance what it would cost in time, money, etc., we might not have been so giving. Nicole captured our hearts immediately. We nicknamed her ET, because she had such big eyes and a big forehead. As you can see to the left, our ET has become a beautiful young lady.

One Sunday, when she was 2 or 3, we had special guests at our church. They had a ministry to abused children. They told some stories of rescuing children from horrible situations. After one very sad story, I thought to myself, "I know Nicole had a rough start, but nothing like this." Almost immediately, the Holy Spirit whispered in my mind, "you rescued Nicole from a life that would have been much worse than this." When I consider her difficult start in life, and where she might have been, I can understand the special bond that I have with my Nicoletta. (my nickname for her)

Now she off to college in the fall. Our prayers will take on a different focus as she prepares for the future as a young adult. It is so great to see God at work in our children and I am so thankful to be a front row observer. These 18 years have flown by and the next 4 will too. God is faithful and I can't wait to see His creativity at work in Nicole's life in the years to come.

Graduation - Part 1

We celebrated another milestone for the Salazar family last night. Nicole graduated from high school. Nicole came into our lives as a foster baby almost 18 years ago. She was a premie, with severe birth problems, but today she graduated as a beautiful, smart and personable young lady with a wonderful future ahead of her. One of my earliest memories of time spent with Nicole will always be firmly planted in the front of my mind. I took on the responsibility of putting Nicole to bed at night, usually by holding her and giving her a bottle. Many nights during her first winter in our home, I would take her downstairs into our living room, turn up the gas logs and enjoy some quiet time as she went to sleep. (sometimes we'd both go to sleep) Many nights I would pray over her. Since she was a foster child, we had no idea how long we would have her, or where she might go. What we did know was that her mother was a 14 year old runaway that was running from the law. We did not know who her father was, and to this day he is unknown. The only person that seemed to care about her was her maternal grandmother who was trying to get custody of her. One night as I was praying for her, I agonized over the fact that Nicole did not have a father. Suddenly it seemed like the Holy Spirit stopped my prayer and whispered in my mind, "you are her father, you have taken responsibility for this baby and you are her father." At this moment I also realized a tremendous sense of God's love for me, Abba Father, "Daddy", embracing us both and helping me realize that God loved us both with an overwhelming love.

18 years later, I truly am Nicole's father. After 18 months of contentious legal manuvering, a Colorado family court decided that none of Nicole's blood relatives had passed a home study. Since she had been with us for so long, we could not put her back in the foster system and we started adoption proceedings. Last night as I watched her walk across the stage to receive her diploma, I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving to our Father, who had allowed me to be her father. Tomorrow I'll relate another story that showed me how much God loves us all.

Scary Moments - Raising Teenagers

Last Saturday night I was talking to my son Sam via our cell phones. Nicole and I were picking him up from a friend's house, but when we arrived at the friend's house, he wasn't there. He was in the middle of telling me that he and his friends were on the way when his voice stopped. At first I thought the call had dropped, but I could hear background noise, and then I heard a teenage girl screaming. She was saying "he's unconscious, he's unconscious, wake up, wake him up". I could also hear Sam in the background saying "where's my phone, I lost my phone". At this point, Sam's phone disconnected. I tried calling him back, and didn't get an answer. While I was trying to call him, a call came in from a number I didn't recognize. The voice mail was Sam, crying, telling me he had lost his phone and to call him back. Then I realized what was going on. Sam and his friends had been in a car accident while I was on the phone with him.

I quickly called him back, made sure he told me he was okay, got his location and we drove as fast as I dared. When we got to the accident scene, the entire 4 lane street was blocked off and there were 2 firetrucks, 3 ambulances and a host of police cars. Sam's friend, the driver, was so wedged into the front seat that the firemen had to cut the top of his classic Camero off. As I stood with Sam and watched, I thanked God that it appeared that everyone was okay. It was a little disconcerting to see all the gurneys they had out. Sam had some minor lacerations on his forehead from windshield glass, but that was about it. It seems weird to me that after seeing how much damage was done to the car, I didn't hear the impact over the phone. What happened was that in mid-sentence, Sam's phone flew out of his hand during the impact and landed under the driver. He could hear me calling his name, but in the immediate confusion he couldn't find his phone.

Several hours later, (all four teenagers were taken by ambulance to the hospital), we left St. John's Emergency room. Cuts were bandaged, x-rays taken, instructions and best wishes given. We called Kathy to tell her we were on the way home. What a blessing to say "we're on the way home." Anything different than that would have had terrible consequences. "Thank you God, for your protection, and love. Where would we be without You?" Sam was shaken, and sore for a couple of days, but he's okay. "Thank you, Lord."

Russell Has Seen Better Days

I have a very funny daughter. One of the funny things about her are her names for everything. Last year when Josh and Kelly left for South Africa, he left his 1992 Honda Prelude for Nicole. She promptly named the car Russell. So instead of referring to "the Honda, or Prelude, or Nicole's car", it is "Russell".

Monday was a sad day. Nicole was turning a corner in a busy intersection and the traffic suddenly came to a sudden stop. Unfortunately, she and Russell didn't stop in time and Russell came to a stop underneath an SUV. As you can see in the picture, Russell didn't do so well. We had hoped that Nicole could drive this car to college next year. She'll be commuting about 20 miles one way to school. But, since Russell is 18 years old, has 234,000 miles on it, plus other health difficulties, we only had liability coverage on him. The SUV had a few paint scrapes. To add injury to insult, Nicole was driving Russell on Wednesday and his hood flew off. Fortunately, it landed on Russell's windshield and not on top of someones car.

So, our 18 year old, almost high school graduate, (I'll be blogging about that in a couple of weeks) gets to trust God for another car. Russell will probably sold for parts and won't bring much money. It will be an interesting time to now put God's promises into action that we and our church have been teaching Nicole all her life. If indeed our God is Jehovah Jireh, what does that mean for an 18 year old making one of life's biggest transitions? We'll see, I'll keep you posted.

Celebrating Cinco de Mayo

Cinco de Mayo is a holiday that commemorates the Mexican army's unlikely victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5,1862. While not an "obligatory federal holiday" in Mexico, it is celebrated primarily in the state of Puebla, and in the United States. Cinco de Mayo is not Mexico's Independence Day, which actually is September 16, the most important national patriotic holiday in Mexico. In the United States, many people mistakenly think Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's Indepence Day.

Tomorrow may be a very interesting day in the Southwest. The new Arizona immigration law has stirred up a hornet's nest of opposition. The sad thing to me is that Arizona wouldn't have had to deal with this if the federal government had simply enforced the laws already on the books. As a Hispanic male who faced some prejudice in my teens and early 20s, I find it interesting that Al Sharpton and other non-latino, racial issue, lighting rods are in the Southwest commenting and spreading misinformation. In my opinion, these are uninvited pot stirrers who need to stick to their own issues. Regardless, this is just another opportunity for many to say ugly things, throw rocks and other objects, and make law abiding latinos look bad. Shouts of Si Se Puede, Yes We Can, are so misplaced. Yes We Can what? Believe misinformation? Not find out what is going on for ourselves? Be led around "by the nose" by agitators who's main agenda is agitating?

So how does a Christian, conservative, latino man celebrate Cinco de Mayo? 1) Pray for Arizona and the people who are so divided over the issues. 2) Try and be a conduit in any conversation of correct information. (I believe that the root of the problem here, like in so many volatile issues, is that people do not take the time to really find out what truth is) 3) Pray for a return of civility in this country. 4) Go to my favorite Mexican market for a bowl of menudo.

God's Love In Action

Yesterday I wrote about the escalating meanness in America. I am a full blooded Latino, of Spanish extraction. I am proud of my heritage and proud to be an American citizen. While I don't know anything about my ancestors that immigrated to this country, several generations of Salazars have lived in this country and made positive contributions. I hate the racial overtones that are dominating the situation in Arizona. We have made so many strides forward, I don't want to go back.

In the 1950s there was a migrant worker program in the US called the Bracero program. It actually started in 1947 and ended in 1964. Workers from Mexico, largely agricultural workers, were allowed to come to the US and work for a period of time. I remember going with my grandparents to some of the farms and ranches around San Jose, California to visit with Braceros in the evening. My grandparents shared the Gospel, took clothes and other necessities, and I remember my grandmother talking with some of the ladies, perhaps comforting them because they were away from their children. My grandfather had pioneered a Spanish speaking Assemblies of God church by this time, and other church members joined them on their trips to the Bracero camps. There were not any ulterior motives here, none of them would join the church, they wouldn't contribute any offerings, they wouldn't bring other people into the church, this was ministry, pure ministry.

While this took place over 50 years ago, this is a memory that is vividly etched in my mind. I can still still see the little huts where the Braceros slept. I can almost smell the smoke from the fires that burned in 55 gallon drums for warmth, and I remember my grandfather walking from hut to hut telling the men that we were there and asking them to gather together. The farmers and ranchers welcomed the ministry because they saw the changes that occured in the Braceros lives as they committed themselves to the Lord. Who knows the impact of these changed lives as they went home to their families and communities? What I know, is, that I saw God's love in action. We really need to see more of that today. Oh God, help us to engage the meaness in our country with Your love.

This Is A Mean Time In America

This has really become a mean time in America. People are angry about health care, the Tea Party movement, a new law in Arizona, the rising cost of living, the uncertainty of the future, and the list goes on and on. People are disgusted with all the various levels of government and aren't afraid to voice their opinion. Charges of "racism" are being tossed back and forth and today I heard a call by a national leader for people in Arizona to defy the new law. Wasn't this presidential administration going to be the one to unify us? What happened to "Yes We Can"?

Even Christian leaders are being swept into the chaos. Franklin Graham was "dis invited" from a Pentagon Prayer Breakfast because of some of his comments regarding Muslims. News of the Schuller family squabbles and the near financial collapse of the Crystal Cathedral grab headlines. Where are the Christian voices proclaiming peace, repentance, reconciliation and unity?

I believe that one of the most successful tools in Satan's weapons arsenal is fear. Fear of the future, fear of consequences of misguided policies and legislation, fear of each other. We're hiding behind labels; liberal, conservative, racist, Tea Party member, homophobe...

What is our most powerful weapon? God's love. God's love demonstrated in our lives in such a way that a watching world cannot deny its power. Oh God, help us demonstrate your love and begin to dissolve the meanness in our country.

Social Networking By Age

I saw an interesting chart recently. It showed social network site users by age. Here are the stats:
75% of 18-22 year olds use one or more social networking sites
49% of 23-35 year olds
21% of 36-49
9% of 50-65
3% over 60

I personally use Facebook. I have really enjoyed connecting better with family members, particularly more distant family members, and all the friends and acquaintances from places we have lived and worked around the country. According to this Pew Research chart, I am among 9% of my age group that does this. For me, it seemed pretty natural to launch into social networking because I have always tried to stay up with technology as it has developed at such a rapid pace. I must admit, however, that I don't have a Facebook farm, I don't look for eggs, I'm not a Mafia member, nor any of the other myriad of opportunities that are available. I just enjoy the posts and pictures and all the "catching up." I was thumbing through a college catalog the other day and wondering about taking a computer networking class. I think it might be time to stretch some more...

A Long and Rewarding Day

About 3 times a year I am an assistant supervisor at one of our St. Louis County polling locations. What an assistant supervisor does is to arrive at the polling location by 5 AM and set up all the machines that the voters will use in voting. Yesterday we had 3 touchscreen machines and 3 paper ballot stations with a paper ballot scanner. From 6 AM until 7 PM, my job was to assist each person as they voted. The polling location that I serve is in a very large Methodist retirement center and many of the residents come down to their recreation room and vote. I have come to really enjoy helping these folks, talking with them and hearing some of their life stories. The other end of the spectrum was helping a couple of 18 year olds vote using the touchscreen machine. In both cases, this was their first opportunity to exercise their constitutional privilege of voting.

Unfortunately, our Republican supervisor got sick during the afternoon and had to leave. I stayed later than normal and helped prepare all of the materials and went with the Democrat supervisor to drop everything off. (Elections are very bi-partisan. Everything, and I mean everything, has to be signed off by both a Republican or Democrat worker. This includes the voting stub that everyone gets when they first come in, to the reports that must be assembled at the close of the polls)

So I arrived home at 8 PM, 15 hours after I left in the morning. A long day, but rewarding...rewarding because I had a very small part in a democratic process that insures that the people of this great country get to choose their leaders and vote on issues that come before them. Rewarding because I got to help a lot of seniors vote, and to applaud them for their interest in this process even at their advanced age. They haven't stopped being involved even though they are retired. Rewarding because I saw brand new voters vote for the first time. Young people who are plugging into the system as soon as they can, and will help our country stay the strong nation God has blessed it to be.

He Is Risen! He Is Risen, indeed!

Somewhere in many church service worship schedules today, the song "Because He Lives", by Bill & Gloria Gaither, will be sung. As we closed our early worship service this morning, the strength and hope of the resurrection overwhelmed the uncertainty of the future for me. "...Because I know He holds the future; and life is worth the living just because He lives."

There are times in our lives when several things seem to collide all at once. Periods where almost everything in life is affected. In my case, dealing with raising 3 teenagers, again; the cost of living that has skyrocketed, working through issues at work, health issues that complicate life and the list goes on and on. I know this is part of life, valleys that seem to go on forever without a path to the mountain top. Last night was tough...teenager vs. dad, enough said.

It's too bad the Gaithers didn't live at the time of Christ on earth. The disciples could of used their song. Their future seemed over, they were afraid for their lives. And then came the wonderful news; "He is not here. He was raised, just as he said. Come and look at the place where he was placed." ( Matthew 28, the Message)

For me, those song words triggered the hope of the resurrection this morning in my spirit. Life is worth living because of what Christ did for us. I will find the path to the mountain.

Have a Little Faith

I just finished reading a great little book, Have A Little Faith, by Mitch Albom. If the author's name sounds familiar, you might know him by his best selling book, Tuesdays With Morrie. Have A Little Faith is about the author's relationship with an 82 year old rabbi and a black Detroit pastor-a reformed drug dealer and convict-who preaches to the poor and homeless in a decaying church with a hole in the roof.

The book starts with an unusual request by the rabbi, he wants the author to deliver his eulogy. Feeling unworthy, Albom insists on understanding the man better, which throws him back into a world of faith that he had left years earlier. Moving between their worlds, Christian and Jewish, African-American and white, impoverished and well-to-do, Albom observes how these very different men employ faith similarly in fighting for survival: the older, suburban rabbi embracing it as death approaches; the younger, inner-city pastor relying on it to keep himself and his church afloat.

This book is a great read for the times we are in. Our world faces huge challenges economically, politically and spiritually. I am convinced that as Christians and for myself as a church leader, we must facilitate and resource relationships as a main vehicle for seeing people's lives changed and touched by the power of God. It is great to come together and worship and see the same church family members week after week, but we must do much more than this. We have got to find creative ways to bring people together who desperately need hope for the future and share with them the good news of the Gospel. If you get a chance to read Have A Little Faith, I think you'll know what I'm talking about.

Christmas Past

The 2009 Christmas season is over. Our last guests left today. We had non-stop guests in our home from December 23rd through January 9th. We never had less than 8 people at our table and some meals had 15. Kathy wished she had kept track of how many times our dishwasher ran, usually it was more than once a day. Today, we'll move the last of our indoor Christmas decorations downstairs and next Tuesday I'll pull out all the boxes out, put everything away, and that will be that.

As adults, with adult children, spouses and grandchildren, Christmases take on such a different character. I've reminisced on this blog about childhood Christmas memories. As an adult, however, this time is so different. This year we really missed having our oldest son and his family up for Christmas. Even though all the rest of our children were here, there was a big hole. I loved watching our older children interact with each other, but I missed watching their oldest brother and sister-in-law be part of that process. I really missed being able to watch our grandsons open the presents we gave them. I would have enjoyed putting the Legos together with them.

We had the joy of having Kathy's parents here for Christmas. 4 generations together is a lot of fun. Catching up on life's events, giving and receiving advice, playing games, watching Christmas movies, looking for great Christmas lights, celebrating Communion together, eating some great food, are all memory makers. Regardless of what may come in 2010, God has truly blessed us and for that we are thankful. We are all eternally grateful for a Savior who was born for us, who gave His life to redeem us, and for the love He so freely gives us. It's because of His love that we in turn can love each other. Christmas 2009 was blessed...

New Beginnings

Just a couple of hours until a brand new year. I've been working on a couple of small changes in how I organize my life next year, and I've decided that a few words and phrases I seldom use will become part of my everyday vocabulary. "No", "I'll check and see if I can fit that in my schedule", "I don't think I can do that", and other similar words and phrases are going to help me free up more creative and contemplative time.

This past year I read through the Bible using The Daily Message. I actually used it both in 2008 and 2009.
Tommorrow morning I'll begin reading from the God Sightings One Year Bible. This is a one year program that our senior pastor is suggesting our congregation use in 2010. I am also going to read daily from two books that were gifts. The first is The One Year Christian History, A Daily Glimpse into God's Powerful Work. I've already "fudged" and read the first two days. This is going to be a great read all year. The other daily book that was given to me is A Farmer's Year, Daily Truth to Change Your Life. This daily reading book is written by a South African potato farmer, Angus Buchan. His story is told in a wonderful movie titled Faith Like Potatoes. I'm looking forward to his writing.

On day one, Angus writes "Good farmers know that the worst thing a man can do is look behind him when he is ploughing, because he will not plough a straight furrow. Whatever has happened in your lilfe during the past year, do not look back. There may be things that you have not been able to rectify because the other party is not interested in reconciliation. Leave those things under the blood of the Lamb. Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary so that your sins may be forgiven. Make sure you do whatever you can from your side to rectify any undone situation, and then press on." Good advice to start the year.

To summarize, I'm going to eliminate a lot of the busyness in my life, make room for creative thinking and planning and look forward, not backwards. See you in 2010...

The End of Christmas

I love Christmas. I love the preparation, the anticipation, every event, concert, service, dinner and especially our family time. I love the Christmas story and all of the mystery and wonder that it inspires every year. In fact, I have a small collection of manger scenes. This past year I have had 5 manger scenes in my office all year long. During the month of December we have 2 manger scenes downstairs, 8 upstairs and one large one that we didn't set up this year. I even have a small one made out of glass on my bedroom dresser. Each time I look at one it reminds me of the wonder of this season. My oldest son and daughter-in-law gave me 2 manger scenes this year that I will cherish. I might even take one to my office and trade it for one that is there now.

The reality of the end of the season came when I went outside on December 26th and noticed that our neighbors had already undecorated their Christmas tree and it was laying on its side next to their trash can. Now, several days later, some of our neighbors aren't turning their lights on anymore and by the weekend, I will probably unplug my timers and that will be that. This is the sad time of the celebration, the slow finale of a wonderful time. One of my favorite Christmas stories is one titled Christmas Every Day. It's the story of a little girl who is granted her wish that Christmas would come every day of the year. After a while, there are no more turkeys to be had, no more gifts to buy, everyone is cranky and hates Christmas. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, but I do wish there was a way to extend the season and then bring it to an orderly, happy end. Maybe I'll work on that for next year.

For now, I'll enjoy some great gifts that I received, thank God for my family and friends, and concentrate on sharing the truth of Advent with a world that is desperate to know God, even if they don't know it.

Tamales Tomorrow Night

One of our long standing traditions is to have a Mexican food feast on Christmas Eve. Since I normally have had pastoral duties on Christmas Eve, our meal has had to wait until later in the evening. This is a tradition I look forward to every year, and each year we have a different group of guests for dinner that adds to the wonderful celebration of the Christmas season. I recently read a story about tamales, which are a main element of our Christmas Eve dinner.

Carl Fenter was out trying to find tamales on a very cold Christmas Eve morning. He had the bright idea of having a tamale feast after the service, but he didn't think about it until Christmas Eve morning. Who would've guessed that every tamale shop in the city would be sold out the day before Christmas? But they were, as Carl knew. He'd been driving all over El Pasto that morning. Determined to bring home the tamales, Carl tried on last tienda, an old favorite out in Canutillo.

When he arrived, a fresh batch was due off the steamer in forty-five minutes. Taking his place at the end of the snaking line of tamale-seekers, he watched the woman in front of him remove her jacket to drape around her shivering youngster. It wasn't long before she, too, shuddered in the chilly wind. After only a moment's hesitation, Carl shed his own jacket and offered it to the grateful mother. Together they cheered when the line crept forward at last, and smiling people exited the shop toting steamy bags. Finally, Carl got inside the door and inched his way closer to the counter, the woman now first in line.

"Sorry folks," the cleark announced, "that's the last of the tamales." "No way!" Carl groaned with everyone else lined up behind him. "But," stressed the man at the counter, "we'll have a final batch ready in, oh, about two hours." Defeated, Carl backed away, but the young mother grabbed his arm.

"You're leaving?" "I have to," Carl glanced at this watch. "I promised to put up luminarias at my church." "I'll get your order of tamales and bring them to your house." Carl's brow furrowed. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "But it's the least I can do. You lent me your coat." Her smile overrode his objections. "Just give me your address."

And at exactly noon on Christmas Eve, four dozen fragrant tamales-along with Carl's brown jacket-arrived at his home. What a great act of Christmas kindness. Have you had any moments where you could provide Christmas kindness?

Gotta go, my tamales will be ready for pickup at 2:00 PM. Can't keep traditions waiting...

Presence and Accounted For

Here's another story from The Book of Christmas Virtues... Every gift had been wrapped, each recipe prepared, and all the ornaments hung. I had seen to every detail; I knew I hadn't overlooked a thing. And now, with three anxious children tucked in bed at last, I leaned back in my favorite recliner-satisfied-to survey our perfect, shimmering tree.

I admired the packages arranged underneath. Thanks to my early planning and a little extra money this year, Christmas was going to be wonderful. I couldn't wait to see my children's faces when they tore into their presents the next morning, discovering all of the new clothes and great toys I had bought for them. I began a mental accounting of the treasures tucked inside each package: the Dallas Cowboys jacket for Brandon, the Fisher Price castle for Jared, the Victorian dollhouse for Brittany...

Basking in the glow of twinkling lights and my own thoughts, I barely noticed Jared sneak into the room. My normal reaction would be to jump up and rush him back to bed. This time, I chose to sit still and watch, hoping he wouldn't notice me. I needn't have worried.

Jared was a five-year-old with a mission. The glimmering tree illuminated his small figure as he made his way straight to the nativity beneath it. Sinking to his knees, he held out a paper and whispered, "See, Jesus, I drew this picture for you." Not wanting to miss a word, I held my breath and leaned forward. "On the left side, that's me." Jared's finger traced a path across the page. "On the right side, that's you." He pointed. "In the middle is my heart." He smiled sweetly. "I'm giving it to you."

With tenderness, Jared placed the picture beneath the tree. "Merry Christmas, Jesus," he said and scurried back to bed. My throat tightened, and my eyes filled. All the sparkling decorations and all the shiny wrappings in the room suddenly dulled in comparison to Jared's innocent crayon drawing. It took my small child's gift of love to remind me that only Jesus can make Christmas wonderful this year. And he always does.

I Am Especially Fond Of You

During the Christmas season I read a lot of Christmas stories. In fact, I collect them. I love how this season of the year impacts people in so many ways. This week, in addition to all my Christmas readying, I re-read a book that in not a Christmas story, but impacted my life the first time I read it. In fact, I wrote a blog about it a few months ago. The book is The Shack.

This time, the chapter titled A Festival of Friends (#15), really affected me. As chapter 14 closes, the Holy Spirit, named Sarayu, tells Mack (the main character) that "for tonight, I would love you to see a bit of what we see." After she touches him, the author writes, "He turned back to Sarayu, who still stood next to him. Although she was difficult to look at directly, he could now make out symmetry and colors embedded within patterns, as if miniature diamonds, rubies, and sapphires of all colors had been sewn into a garment of light, which moved first in waves and then scattered as particulate." The author goes on to describe all of Creation in terms of light, beautiful light in different hues and intensity. Color that could not be imgined. Creation that is perfect, unspoiled by sin. The author goes on to write, "Mack realized also that he felt no pain, not even in his usually aching joints. In fact, he had never felt this well, this whole. His head was clear and he breathed deeply the scents and aromas of the night and of the sleeping flowers in the garden, many of which had begun to awaken to this celebration. Delirious and delicious joy welled up inside of him and he jumped, floating slowly up into the air; then returned gently to the ground."

What the author was describing was a scene from heaven, where God's perfection extends to mankind and changes everything. The part of this chapter that knocked me for a loop was near the end. The author, William P. Young, writes, "A hush descended. The anticipation was palpable. Suddenly to their right, from out of the darkness emerged Jesus, and pandemonium broke out. (my emphasis) He was dressed in a simple brilliant white garment and wore on his head a simple gold crown, but he was every inch the king of the universe. He walked the path that opened before him in the center-the center of all Creation, the man who is God and the God who is man. Light and color danced and wove a tapestry of love for him to step on. Some were crying out words of love, while others simply stood with hands lifted up. Many of those whose colors were the riches and deepest were lying flat on their face. Everything that had a breath sang out a song of unending love and thankfulness. Tonight the universe was as it was intended."

I wept many times while reading this book, sometimes longing for the kind of relationship with Pappa that the author was describing, and sometimes overjoyed at the scenes being portrayed. I wept at this spot because of the longing to see Jesus like He really is. I want Him to cause pandemonium to break out when I think about our relationship, when I spend time in His Word, when I spend time in prayer. What a wonderful thought, that everytime we met to enjoy His presence, pandemonium would break out!

One last thought from this chapter, and the title of this blog. In the midst of all the pandemonium, all the people worshiping Jesus, and out of everyone that Jesus could have chosen, from a distance He whispers into Mack's ear, "Mack, I am especially fond of you." As I sat on the couch, next to our Christmas tree, enjoying the scene from the book that I was imagining, I think I heard a voice in my mind whisper, "Louie, I am expecially fond of you."

It's More Blessed to Give...

Here is a great story I ran across this year. I hope you enjoy it. (I could not find an author's name)

A friend of mine named Paul received an automobile from his brother as a Christmas present. On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. "Is this your car, Mister?" he asked. Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas." The boy was astounded. "You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn't cost you nothing? Boy, I wish..." He hesitated. Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels. "I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that." Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my automobile?" "Oh yes, I'd love that."

After a short ride, the boy turned and with his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front on my house?" Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again. "Will you stop where those two steps are?" the boy asked. He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.
"There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas and it didn't cost him a cent. And some day I'm gonna give you one just like it... then you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying to tell you about."
Paul got out and lifted the young boy to the front seat of his car. His older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.

That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he had said, "It's more blessed to give...."

Christmas Kindness

In the Chicken Soup for the Soul book The Book of Christmas Virtues, Marion Smith tells of her experience in Washington, D.C.'s Union Station on a bitterly cold December evening. She sat on a public bench with a steaming cup of coffee, waiting for feeling to return to her fingers. As diners left the American Restaurant, the heavenly aromas tempted her to consider an early dinner. She observed a man seated nearby, and from the longing in his eyes, realized that he, too, noticed the tantalizing food. His gaunt body, wind-chapped hands and tattered clothes nearly shouted, "Homeless, homeless!"

Half expecting him to approach her for a handout, he didn't. While she debated what to do, a well-dressed young couple approached him. "Excuse me, sir," the husband said. "My wife and I just finished eating, and our appetites weren't as big as we thought. We hate to waste good food. Can you put this to use?" He extended a large Styrofoam container. "God bless you both. Merry Christmas," came the grateful reply. Marion was pleased, yet dismayed by her own lack of action. The man scrutinized his new found bounty, rearranged the soup crackers, inspected the club sandwich and stirred the salad dressing-obviously prolonging this miracle meal. Then just before taking the first bite he stopped short. She turned her head to follow his gaze. Entering the hall and shuffling in their direction was a new arrival. Hat less and glove less, an elderly man was clad in lightweight pants, a threadbare jacket and open shoes. His hands were raw, and his face had a bluish tint. Marion gasped aloud at this sad sight, but her needy neighbor leaped up and guided the elderly man to an adjacent seat. He took his icy hands and rubbed them briskly in his own. With a final tenderness, he draped his worn jacket over the older man's shoulders. "Pop, my name's Jack," he said, "and one of God's angels brought me this meal. I just finished eating and hate to waste good food. Can you help me out?"

Marion writes, "It wasn't easy making my way to the food court with tears blurring my vision, but I soon returned with large containers of coffee and a big assortment of pastries. 'Excuse me, gentlemen, but'..."

Oh God, help us to be your hands of compassion in this wonderful season of the year. Help us not to let any opportunities to go by without doing everything we can to show Your love.

The Bar NR

A real keepsake came home with me after visiting with my parents at Thanksgiving. I brought home the cattle brand that my grandfather had made when he bought his first steers and pastured them on his new ranch land. I think I was about 10 years old when he bought 10 acres of land in the San Joaquin Valley of California. The land had 2 sides fenced. I remember spending several days laying out barbed wire fencing, helping to dig fence post holes and stretching wire to secure the fence. I'm sure I was more in the way than anything else, but I hope I helped a little. I remember helping my grandfather build a small pump house with a side room. We stayed in that side room many times while he, (and I) built a barn and then laid out a foundation for a house. He found a house on a nearby military base that needed to be moved. He bought it and had the foundation poured. I still remember the day the house came. I would run out to the intersection every few minutes and look for a house coming down the street. Finally, I saw it off in a distance. I house coming right down the middle of the street. Power lines had been moved and there was a truck in front with flashing lights. This was the most exciting thing I had ever experienced. Finally the house got to our ranch. After a lot of finagling, many "stay back"s from my grandfather, pushing and tugging, the last support came out, the men and their trucks left and the house was sitting on it's new foundation. What an experience.

We had many great times out at that ranch. My grandpa bought a few steers and we went to a shop to have a brand made. He picked the Bar NR as the name for the ranch. His name was Nemias Ruybalid. Just like an old West movie, we heated up the branding iron, walked over to the steer that had been roped into submission, and burned the "Bar NR" into it's hind side. He would raise them, butcher some for meat, and sell others. We went to auctions to both buy and sell. It was a wonderful time for me, and my hero. I learned how to drive my grandfather's F-100 truck out in the pasture, shot his .22, picked asparagus in the canal, helped flood the pasture to irrigate and a tons of other fun things for a kid my age. My grandfather's plan was to retire at age 65 and move from San Jose to the ranch. Wouldn't that have been grand. But, sometimes life doesn't turn out like you think it will. Before he was able to retire he got cancer, and died when I was 15. There are days when I still cry when I think about it. In fact, I'm crying right now as I type this...

I have a spot picked out on my office wall for the Bar NR. I'm going to make a wooden stand for it, clean it up and hang it there, right next to a picture I have of my grandfather's congregation in San Jose. Then every once in a while I'll lean back in my chair, close my eyes and relive some great moments at the Bar NR.

The Tinsel Tree

I love Christmas. Sometimes I wish it could be Christmas every day. I love the traditions, the family time, the special events, the food, the church services, and I love meditating on the Biblical story of Christmas. I really enjoy Christmas lights, candles, decorations and manger scenes. In fact, I collect manger scenes. I have 6 of them in my office all year round. So if you need a gift idea for me...(hint, hint)

I thing I really enjoyed as a child was laying under our Christmas tree and reading a book. Sometimes there would be a fire in the fireplace and the combination of the light from the fire, lights on the tree, the pine fragrance and a good book, were almost too much to take. Even today, that scene is vivid in my mind. Knowing this, you can imagine the shock I felt one day early in December when I got home from school and there was a tinsel tree in our living room. It was decorated with blue balls and it had a multi-colored wheel that rotated around and cast light on the tree from an irritating spotlight. I couldn't believe my eyes! No pine smell, no stranded lights, no ambience... but, I gave it a try. That night I plunked myself down next to the tree with a book. The whiring noise of the multi-colored wheel motor was distracting, the spotlight was too bright, and the lack of pine smell was just too much.

We endured the tinsel tree for a couple more years and finally the motor died, the spotlight melted the color wheel and the tinsel tree went to tinsel tree heaven. It was a wonderful Christmas again when we went back to a natural tree. In this day of technically perfect, pre-lit artificial trees, we still get a natural tree every year. Some have holes we have to hide, some are bent a little, and some droop earlier than they should, but they smell wonderful and look even better. It's just about time to select this year's tree. We always get it in the house and decorated by the second weekend in December. I can't wait...

I'm With A Saint

We're at my parent's home in Columbus, Ohio. As I have watched my mom care for my father this weekend, I am watching a saint at work. My dad is 90, and having a difficult time physically. His hearing is almost gone, and he needs help with nearly every task that we all take for granted. I watch my mom care for his every need, listen for his call, put him to bed and then listen to make sure he is okay. My parents have been married for 58 years, and I see the result of a wonderful marriage.

As we traveled here on Wednesday, 3 hours away my sister called to say that my mom was being rushed to the hospital. She was experiencing stroke like symtoms. As you can imagine, we begin to pray, and pray hard. Then I began to think of the potential consequences to my dad, if she indeed were having a stroke. Who would help her rehab? Who would take care of him? Thankfully, the diagnosis was Bell's Palsy. The recovery time is weeks to 3 months. We are so thankful to God that the result was this, and not a stroke.

We arrived on Wednesday evening at my parent's home before my sister and brother got my mom home. When we came in, my dad was sitting in his wheel chair by the front window, watching for my sister's car. Every few minutes he would ask "when will they be here?". Finally, they arrived home. I watched them embrace, shed tears of joy and watched relief spread across my father's face. Even though she should have gone right to bed to rest, the first thing my mom did was to make sure that my dad had everything he needed. Like every night, she helped him through him through his "going to bed" routine, made sure everything was finished, and then she went to bed. She's in bed tonight, it's 11:20 PM, I wonder if there is a glow in a saint's bedroom?

God Moments

Our oldest son, Jason, was born in January of 1976. We were living in Las Vegas and the high desert can get bitterly cold. One Saturday our heat stopped working. We were poor youth pastors at the time and I knew we couldn't afford a weekend service call. I climbed up on the roof to see if I could figure out why our combination heat/AC unit had stopped working. I'm fairly handy and checked everything I knew how to check. I tried everything, took off covers, flipped the breaker off and on, wiggled the wiring, nothing. Our house had already started getting cold and Kathy and I had a new baby that we knew could not get cold. I remember sitting on that roof, shivering so badly I could hardly work and finally crying, literally, out to God for help. I told Him about our cold house, new baby and new mother, as if He didn't know. I know the Holy Spirit put the next thought into my mind. "Run your hand along the bottom of the back cover." As I did that I felt a circuit breaker. I got down on my belly and shined my flashlight to look. It was Off. I pressed the On side and the heater fired up. I will never forget that God moment.

Saturday morning I had another one. Our dishwasher had stopped working and draining properly. Since this unit is probably original to our house, 30 years old, we had talked before about replacing it. But now was not the time. Things have been tight and we're trying to save some money to fly out our Oregon kids and grandkids for Christmas. I was telling the Lord all that on Saturday. No one else was up yet and I was having a little personal "pity party." In fact I was covering a number of feel-sorry-for-myself topics with Him as I started bailing out all the water in the bottom of the dishwasher. As I was trying to figure out how to get the last of the water out, a thought came into my mind that I know the Holy Spirit put there. "Take the back screen cover off, take out the plastic screen and put your hand down in the opening." I got my tools, took out the screws and removed the 2 screens. As I reached down in the well still filled with water, I felt pieces of plastic and other yucky stuff. By the time I had cleaned it all out, I had quite a collection. I put it all back together and shut the door, ran the control around to rinse and listened for the rinse cycle to stop. Just as it stopped, I opened the door to hear this great sucking sound and all the water was disappearing just like it is supposed to. A God moment.

Grrrrrrrr

Ever felt like this little girl? What a mismatch! But sometimes you don't have a choice. The fight you are in is the one you have to fight. Even if the enemy, (poor health, financial setbacks, relationship that have deteriorated, rebellious children, etc), appears to be overwhelming, God knows what it will take to defeat your enemy. Right now my reading-through-the-Bible-in-a-year reading is the book of Job and the book of Isaiah. What a combination. Even the best mornings spiral downward in a hurry reading those two books together. I wonder if the editor of The Daily Message thought that at the 3/4 mark in the year, the readers might be too happy and contented with reading each day and he decided to combine these books to bring us all down to earth. :) A couple of days ago while reading Isiah 9, I came to this wonderful passage; For a child has been born-for us! The gift of a son-for us! He'll take over the running of the world. His names will be: Amazing Counselor, Strong God, Eternal Father, Prince of Wholeness. His ruling authority will grow, and there'll be no limits to the wholeness he brings. Wow...bring that Sumo on.

Extra Spice

Have you ever felt like something was missing from your life? You can't put your finger on it, but something is not quite right. How about a meal you are having. It looks okay, and tastes all right, but something is missing. There isn't any "zing" to it. One thing I have done for several years is buy Embasa Querito Peppers. These are fairly hot peppers that add zing to any kind of meal. For all the years we have lived in the St. Louis area, I have purchased the peppers at a Mexican market near our home. I was quite surprised several months ago to find out that the store had changed hands, and, they no longer carried the peppers I loved. So, for several months I have not had a guerito pepper. I have tried other peppers from other stores, but they are woefully lacking. My meals have been good, nutritious, satisfying, but something has been missing. In the busyness of life, sometimes the routines we establish get everything done that we need to, but there is no "spice", no "zing". Life is too precious to just make a routine of living. So, I'm adding some zing, (I have a couple of good ideas) and I'm looking for another source for guerito peppers. When I accomplish both, I'll let you know.

Bittersweet

Today is a bittersweet day. Josh and Kelly have been working for over a year to raise funding for a two year missions opportunity with OneHope, in South Africa. Over the past 18 months we prayed for them, advised them, helped them and now the time has come for them to leave. Today, in fact, is their final day in St. Louis. Friday and Saturday, Kathy and I helped Josh and Kelly pack up and move out of their apartment. There was a very emotional finality about vacuuming the last bit of carpet, carrying out the last box and closing the door.

We are so excited about this opportunity for them. We wouldn't want them to stay home for anything. I think they were both created by God to be missionaries, and He put them together. I know they will miss home, and their families, but Kathy and I also know the call of God on our hearts, and Josh and Kelly are following that call. We are so proud of them and know that God has great plans for them as they train and facilitate teams of young people in this strategic African country. I think, deep down, we also know that they will probably do this for a career.

Later today they'll drive away, on the first leg of their trip to Florida for some final training and then on to South Africa. My tears have already started to flow as I write this blog. Sometimes it's hard follow God's leading, but from our experience, we wouldn't have it any other way.

What's Hot and What's To Come

I mentioned in a Facebook status update yesterday that I attended a very enlightening workshop regarding the current state of technology and what developments are just around the corner. First, the presenter confirmed a suspicion I have had for months, email is a dying technology. For months, my junior in high school daughter has been telling me that she doesn't use her email accounts anymore. The only thing she uses them for is for a phone application that requires an email address to register. Her primary method of communication is Facebook and her phone. The presenter for this workshop said that in today's digital world, email gets opened 42% of the time and phone texts get opened 98% of the time. In other words, if you want you communication to be received, send a text, not an email. The sale of laptops/notebooks is flat in the USA. Net books or mini-computers are now in. However, the sales of smart phones is going through the roof. Apple is selling iPhones at a phenomenal rate. This is the hot communication method today.

Here's one of the most interesting technologies on the horizon. Texas Instruments has developed a chip for your phone that will allow you to show pictures, files, documents, etc. as a projected image that will be approximately 6 by 8 inches. Instead of showing your pictures and other media on your tiny phone screen, you could put a piece of white paper on a table and project a rather large image.

For someone my age, it's getting hard to keep up...but it sure is fun trying. More later.

Reminiscing

This is a picture of one of the first houses that Kathy and I owned. It's in San Jose, California. On our vacation we stopped in San Jose to show our younger three children our childhood homes and to show them this house. We were so pleased to see how well its been taken care of. This house was built about eighty years ago and had so many wonderful little features that you would never find in a newer house. It had high ceilings with tin inserts and wood carved moldings. The entry way had carved pillars and beautiful wood paneling. The dining room chandelier was an antique brass and crystal piece that was quite valuable. It was interesting reminiscing about living here. I think sometimes we tend to block out the negative experiences and only remember the positive ones. We had a good time living here.

I hope when we have been gone from our present home for awhile, we primarily remember the positive experiences here. There have been some of both. The interesting thing is that you can have high moments and low moments at the same time. I thank God that He blesses us with mountain top experiences and walks with us through the valleys.

18 Days, 5300 Miles, 10 States

The Salazar 2009 vacation odyssey has come to an end. We traveled on Highway 70 through Kansas, Colorado, into Utah. Then we travelled Highway 80 through Utah, Nevada and California. Highway 5 north through California to southern Oregon. East on several 2 lane highways through Idaho and Wyoming. Back to Highway 80 through Wyoming, Nebraska, a little bit of Iowa, Highway 29 south back to Missouri. We visited Kathy's parents, sister and niece in Colorado Springs, we also visited with her brother Kent and his family and my sister Lori and husband Dave in the Sacramento area. We spent several days in Medford, Oregon, with our daughter Aimee, husband Jason and our granddaughters and grandson. We body surfed waves in Santa Cruz, California, watched Chinook salmon run the Rogue River in the mountains above Medford and white water rafted the Snake River just outside of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I had never seen a moose in the wild before, until last week. Wow...

We live in a beautiful country. The desert was in bloom, mountains still had fresh snow on them, and Jackson Hole, Wyoming has got to be one of the most spectacular parts of the West. I'm not so sure that our 3 teenagers totally appreciated the wonderful geographic sights. Overall, they did great with all the miles we traveled. We had occasional melt downs, but it all worked out okay. We really gave the DVD player in our van a workout.

We are so blessed to live in this country. We can travel in complete freedom, never having to show identification, or tell anyone where we are going, or why. More than once I found myself thanking God for His bountiful blessings on us. We have so much to be thankful for.

Father's Day 2009

I talked with my dad today, wished him a happy Father's Day and then spent most of the time talking with mother. My dad is 89 and can't hear very well. He was never able to adjust to hearing aids, so talking with him for the past few years has been very difficult. There is so much I would like to talk with him about, but it is almost impossible.

He gave us a scare last week. His lungs filled with fluid and he was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia and congestive heart failure. He is home today, weak, but recovering. The doctor told my mom he will not recover fully because his body is tired, and he cannot handle any procedures that will strain his heart. Even though she didn't say the exact words, I could hear her telling me that this is probably the "beginning of the end."

A couple of weeks ago we were in San Jose, my birthplace, on vacation. We stopped there specifically to show my children where I grew up. When I was one year old, my parents purchased a brand new home in a new part of town. They were small homes, but to a young child, I remembered a huge yard and a big house. I had a wonderful upbringing there. My dad worked hard, but had plenty of time for his children. I always had a tremendous sense of stability, calm and peace because of him. He taught me by example, letting me work with tools to accomplish tasks, showing me how to care for our year, observing him do things that I needed to learn. He has the unique skill to figure out how to fix things, or make things, with materials that are easy to get and inexpensive. Learning this from him has been invaluable for me. As we pulled up to our old house, I didn't recognize it at first. It was so small, the yard was small, and it was so run down. When we lived there, it was always in perfect shape. In spite of the condition of the house, so many memories welled up in me. I hope that some day my children will pull up in front of their childhood homes and have the same great memories.

I have been blessed with a wonderful father. I love him so much. He may not be with us much longer, but he is ready to see his Father. Happy Father's Day, dad.

Is This A Little Glimpse of Heaven?

We spent Sunday afternoon in the mountains above Medford, OR. It was beautiful, at times awesome, and I thought how fortunate the people are who live in this area. I could live here very easily, perhaps too easily.

Today and tomorrow we are in Jackson Hole, WY. As we turned the last corner on Teton Pass, the Jackson Hole valley came into view. It was an incredible sight. The Tetons behind the valley, dark green mountain hillsides come right down to the town. The Snake River, very visible in the valley. Green is everywhere, the sky filled with clouds ringed a perfect picture. We pulled over, took some pictures and enjoyed the view. I could really live here. People who live here, live in a wonderful part of the earth. I can't imagine ever getting tired of the view.

I wonder if this might be a little glimpse of heaven? Obviously the town has been commercialized, but it seems like they've done a very good job of trying to keep the landscape as pristine as possible. If God's creation here on earth could be this beautiful, what must Heaven be like? And yet the Bible seems to indicate that Heaven will far surpass anything we can imagine. Looking at the scenery here, and being "wowed" by it, Heaven will be unbelievable. For now, we'll enjoy this place, and dream about living here.

God Is So Creative

Yesterday, after attending Aimee & Jason's church, we drove out of the valley into the mountains that surround Medford. We followed the Rogue River for quite a while and took a short hike to some beautiful water falls. Then we stopped by a fish hatchery on the Rogue River where salmon are collected and their eggs harvested. We didn't realize until we got there that the Chinook salmon run has just started. Chinook can be 50 pounds or larger and are spectacular fish. We watched several fish jump in the river and watched them run up the fish ladder in the hatchery.

At the hatchery there is the story of salmon that run this river. At different times of the year, Chinook, Coho and Steelhead salmon return to their birthplace. The amazing thing is that after these fish hatch, they go down the river to the ocean. They live in the ocean for several years and then find the exact river and start their spawning run. Not only do they find the exact river, they return to the exact spot in the river. When you consider this detail, you must acknowledge Gods creativity. Even though I am a fisherman, and have fished for salmon in one of Oregon's rivers outside of Corvallis, I was glad to see that none of the salmon fisherman that were fishing near the hatchery caught any of these magnificent fish. For the moment, all of us were mesmerized by the idea of what they do and why they were back to the hatchery. God is so creative.

The Call

It's Saturday morning and I'm writing from the Rogue Valley in southern Oregon. Our oldest daughter, Aimee, is the children's pastor at Bethel Church in Medford, OR. We are enjoying our visit with Aimee, her husband Jason, Madelyn, Elise and JJ. Geographically, this is a beautiful part of the state. Yesterday we toured their church building. It is on one of the hills that surround the valley and the view is quite spectacular. Bethel is a wonderful, growing church and Aimee and her family plan on putting down deep roots here. They moved here from a very difficult church situation in northern California and I am so happy that they are happy and filled with such optimism for the future.

The hard thing about ministry is that inevitably, a lot of distance separates families. Later this summer, Josh and Kelly (our second son), will leave for two years in South Africa. Aimee and her family live in Oregon and our oldest son, lives in Springfield, MO. With us in St. Louis, visiting our children and grandchildren means travel. Our parents live in Colorado Springs, CO, and Columbus, OH. For our three oldest children who are involved in full time ministry, they are the 4th generation of ministers. My grandfather and Kathy's grandfather were pastors. Kathy's dad is a pastor, Kathy, her brother Kent, and I are pastors, and now our three oldest are all full time ministers. On this vacation, we have been able to visit Kathy's parents and sister in Colorado Springs, her brother Kent and his family in Sacramento, CA and now Aimee and her family in Medford, OR.

I know that all of us wish we could live closer together. But would any of us trade what we're doing for less distance? I doubt it. There is a "call" to ministry that will not let you do anything else. I don't know how many times I have decided it was time to do something else, only to realize that I could never set aside the "call." So for now, we relish each moment that we have together, we take advantage of technology to exchange pictures, web cam images, telephone calls and emails, and know that all of us are doing exactly what we are supposed to be doing.

58 Degrees

I think this vacation is partly a Homecoming Tour for me. Today we spent the day on the boardwalk and beach in Santa Cruz, CA. The summers between my last two years of high school were largely spent at Santa Cruz, Capitola and other places where 3 friends and I surfed and fished. We were true beach bums for those two summers. Today the water temperature was 58 degrees and the air temperature was about 70. Sam, Shawn and I had a great time body surfing 3-5 foot waves. At one point Sam got caught in a rip tide and started to get farther out than he and the lifeguards were comfortable with. Just about the time the lifeguard took off his tee shirt and started to put on his fins, Sam was able to touch bottom and come in. Whew, scary for a moment.

The ocean has a steady rhythm. In, out, in, out. Much like our heart beats, steady. Another aspect of the ocean is that you never get tired of seeing it. It is so much larger and awesome than our everyday lives that it is constantly overwhelming. I have talked with people who live at the coast and have views from their homes of the ocean. They all say the same thing. They are constantly awed by it. Why else would people build on land that is unstable, and take the chance of their homes falling into the ocean. On our honeymoon, we stayed at an inn right next to one of the Santa Cruz beaches. We left our windows open at night so we could hear the ocean waves as they beat their steady rhythm. I think the ocean reminds me of the awesomeness of God. So big, so overwhelming, and yet approachable. I think sometimes we only get our feet wet or wade up to our waists in God, much like we do with the ocean. We get afraid of being swept away, or of the unknown in God. Oh God, let me fearlessly submerge myself in you. Overwhelm me with Your glory.

Remembering Home

Today we drove through San Jose, CA, on our way to spend a couple of days at the ocean at Santa Cruz. I wanted our adopted children to see the 2 houses where I grew up. I was one year old when my parents bought a brand new tract home in the middle of a bunch of prune orchards. People told them that they were crazy for buying so "far out of town". They were told they would never get their value out of their house. Today the city goes out for miles well beyond where this house sits. I remember our huge front lawn where we played football and baseball. The backyard went on forever, and backed up to a creek that provided loads of fun in the summer when it had pools of water in it. Today was a real reality check. The house was small, run-down and the yard front and back, was tiny. I remember the care that my dad took with the house and yard. None of that care showed today. It was still an emotional encounter, however, because a ton of wonderful memories flooded my mind. I didn't really see a run-down house, but a warm, safe and comfortable home where love and care were shared on a daily basis. We drove by a second house where I lived a short time before I moved out on my own and then we drove by Kathy's former house. It was amazing how many warm memories came out as we told several stories to our children.

Everything about these neighborhoods has changed. Almost everyone we knew have moved away. The saying "you can never move back home" is probably very true. There is not a good reason to consider it. But, driving through the neighborhoods was a wonderful experience. Tonight we are in Santa Cruz, on the coast. We had dinner in a restaurant on the Santa Cruz pier where we ate a few times as a family during my growing up years. Tomorrow we'll spend some time in the waves and on the boardwalk. I know more pleasant memories will get stirred up. I am so thankful for my parents, my homes, this area of California. All of this shaped me and prepared me for who I have become. I hope that when my children do the same kind of thing, they feel the same way. It is good to be home.

Beauty And the Beast

Another stop on our vacation was San Francisco. When Kathy and I started dating, many of our dates were in SF. We loved the Fisherman's Wharf area, Ghirardelli Square, Union Square, riding the cable cars, and a coffee shop that doesn't exist anymore, Portofino's. Downtown San Francisco at Christmas was a magical place. We loved the views around the Golden Gate bridge and a favorite date was to take the ferry across the bay to Sausalito. We dated at a time when the political climate in the city was more moderate and the extremists had not taken over yet.

Today the views were spectacular, the sailboats were out in force, we watched a couple of giant container ships come in to port and tried to explain to our sons what Alcatraz Island was all about. Two things were sad to observe. One was the landscaping in the parks and open areas around Fisherman's Wharf and the Cannery. It is obvious that no one is paying much attention. What used to be immaculate flower beds and trimmed bushes, are now overgrown plots of ground that have not had any attention in quite a while. I suppose that this is a casualty of serious financial mismanagement in this state that has brought it to the brink of bankruptcy. The second sadness was to see what has happened to all the shops and stores that line the streets that lead from the wharf area to Ghirardelli Square. There used to be art galleries, clothing shops, upscale gift stores, luggage stores and other interesting places to window shop. Today it is "junk row." Tee shirts, imported trinkets and knock off purses... We didn't even slow down as we walked down the street.

Still, this is a beautiful city that has lost it's way. People struggling to include everyone, and missing everybody. The contrast is of the bay and the city, with all of it's contour and substance, and a political climate that level headed people have trouble understanding and living with. I think if I lived in San Francisco, I would never get tired of the views. But I know I would be drawn into the fight for righteousness. There are some wonderful spiritual battles being won here, but so much more needs to be done. This jewel of the Pacific has lost its lustre, for now. But it doesn't need to be that way forever. Lord, as we think about this stop on our vacation, help us to pray for this wonderful city and its people.

What if?

We're on vacation and yesterday we spent a lot of the day in the giant hot springs pool in Glenwood Springs, CO. Glenwood Springs is a wonderful mountain city at the base of the canyon that leads to Aspen. In 2000 we spent several weeks helping the local Assembly of God church through a period without a pastor. Kathy and drove from Grand Junction, 100 miles, on several Wednesdays and conducted a Bible study and worship time. We interviewed with their board members and eventually candidated for their open pastor position.

During the time that we spent going back and forth, I feel like the Lord gave me some very specific insight into what needed to happen in Glenwood Springs to see ministry take place outside the walls of the church. People who live in the mountains work hard, and play hard, and from a distance, it appears like spiritual ministry in towns like this is very difficult. However, I felt like there were some keys to breaking through some of the barriers. On the morning of our candidacy, I preached a sermon on "What if?" I laid out some of the insights that I felt God was sharing with me and tried to help the congregation see the possibilities.

In the evening service, I shared a short Bible study and then a district official chaired a meeting to vote on us. On Saturday we had a great question and answer session and I felt like over the weeks we had been involved, we had done everything possible to help this congregation know us. After an hour or so, one of the board members came into the room where we were meeting and told us that we had not been elected. I think I might of scared some of the people. I think that maybe they wanted a pastor that would maintain the status quo and not change much.

Yesterday we drove by the church, through the town and then back around the church property. What if?

Mountains

I'm sitting at a computer at the base of Pike's Peak in Colorado Springs. Mountains have a special allure about them. As we were driving towards the mountains yesterday, all of us in our van tried to be the first one to spot the mountains. There is a grandeur, and majesty about them. Because of the snow runoff and spring rain, Pike's Peak and the surrounding mountains are lush with greenery.

When God set up special meetings with Moses, He always held those meetings on a mountain. Jesus met his Father in mountain top meetings. And when a privileged few were allowed to come along, it was with the caution that they not see God himself, because His glory was too powerful for a human to see or experience. Even though mountains are not spiritual in themselves, there is a spiritual drawing to them, perhaps because they are some of God's special creations.

Later this week we're going to drive through the Rockies. When we lived in Colorado, I drove that drive many times, and never got tired of it. I'm looking forward to the drive again, because of the mountains, and because I always know God's presence during that drive.

Institutions Really Do Fade Away

I went to a Gaither Homecoming concert last night. The last time I went to one, the stage was filled with all the "greats" in gospel music. From young to old, everyone made great contributions to a wonderful evening.

I cut my musical teeth on Bill and Gloria Gaither songs. He Touched Me, Let's Just Praise the Lord, and many, many others. Now these are "classic" songs. New writers have come to the front, Chris Tomlin, Paul Balouche, the Hillsong writers, to name a few. We appreciate and value the older writers, but their time has come and gone.

Last night's concert had a strange mix of artists. Besides the newly minted Gaither Vocal Band, there was another great quartet, Ernie Haase and Signature Sound. The only "old timer" was Ben Speer. They did a cool effect, playing an audio and video track from some of the older concerts featuring Vestal Goodman, Jake Hess, George Younce and others, and having the on stage artists sing along. During some of these songs they switched the large screen image from the old video to the live stage. Gloria Gaither was a no show and Guy Penrod isn't singing with the Gaither Vocal Band anymore. While I enjoyed much of the concert, I realized, as we were leaving, that even this great institution, is fading away and is only a shadow of what it once was. All of these thoughts prompt me to say; "Enjoy life in the moment, without looking too far ahead and missing it, and looking too far behind and never catching up." Someday, we will all be classics. Maybe I already am...