Category Archives: Family

The Silence of God

During my first few years of college, my father changed jobs. He went from being pastor of a local church to what was called, an “Associational Missionary.” Old-time Baptists will know what that means. For the rest of you, he was essentially a resource person for the Denomination to help churches in the state of Colorado.

He moved his office to the basement of our house. This meant bookshelves filled with interesting books, a virtual playground for a young man who had always loved to read. I distinctly remember one of the books that captured my fascination. It was a book of sermons by a German pastor, Helmut Theileke, titled, “The Silence of God.” Theileke was a pastor during the war, and the book was a collection of sermons preached to a congregation trying to survive Allied bombing.the_silence_of_god

The sermons are thoughtful, and I’ve re-read the book several times (I see it on a self as I write these words). However, I think it’s the title that made the book stick in my mind. In the five decades since I first read that book, I have heard the silence of God many times. If I’m honest, the silence of God is more common than the voice of God. In fact, even when He speaks, it’s often little more than a whisper.

I’ve heard the silence of God several times recently.

Yesterday afternoon we drove the few blocks to the nursing home where my mother lives. She’s soon to be ninety-three years old. After breaking her hip a year ago, she only gets around via a wheelchair. Other than that, her health is remarkable for a woman her age. If only her mind were as healthy, then I would not be writing about the silence of God.

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The Southern Baptist Convention: One Step Forward and Two Steps Back

For the majority of my life, I considered myself a Southern Baptist. I was proud to be so identified, and even spent a great deal of my time and energy promoting the work of the SBC. That ended a few years back, so if you want to claim that I’m not qualified to speak on this subject, I’m willing to accept your criticism. But, I will speak anyway.

SWBTS

This morning, I saw the announcement that the Trustees at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary finished what they started (and should have finished) last week—terminating their relationship with Paige Patterson. To be honest, this should have been done a decade ago since the incident that precipitated their action occurred that long ago. Any objective observer who didn’t have the need for Patterson’s tenacity to fight other unrelated battles knew that his actions and attitude disqualified him for the position.

However, it took ten years for the Trustees to see the need to nudge him aside, and then another, even more, disturbing revelation, to realize he needed to be gone entirely. It was a slow, hesitant step, but at least it was a step forward. Probably too little too late but at least a move in the right direction.

Then two steps back.

A sizable number of Southern Baptist leaders were accepting of the Trustees’ original move to nudge Patterson aside and even celebrated that he would be allowed to hang around and enjoy the seminary’s generosity. Talk about being tone deaf. Many failed to recognize that his attitude and actions were a problem. It’s like they were saying, “Ok, in order to hold off bad publicity, we’ll make it look like we solved a problem even though we don’t really think it’s a problem.”

I don’t know for sure, but I suspect some of these are the same people who think Donald Trump’s sexual dalliances don’t matter and that the women involved in the #metoo movement should just shut up. Their continued support for Patterson was one step back for the SBC.

Step number two was taken by Al Mohler. Mohler appeared as the new President of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville about 25 years ago—a few years after I graduated. Since that time, he has become one of the leading voices for the Southern Baptist Convention.

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Breathe

My daughter-in-law, Jaclyn, recommended that Sharon and I watch a movie last weekend. I usually take her recommendations with a grain of salt because she’s a big fan of “Grey’s Anatomy” but it sounded like a good story, so Saturday afternoon we took the plunge. The movie is titled “Breathe” and is the story of Robin Cavendish.

He’s not a well-known historical character but was of interest to me for obvious reasons. He was paralyzed by polio from the neck down at the age of 28 and required the assistance of a respirator for every breath for the remainder of his life. His experience resonated with mine in significant ways and it was a painful movie to watch.

He was a pioneer in many ways in dealing with his condition. He lived outside the hospital against his doctor’s wishes. He developed a means of getting out of bed and traveling with a breathing machine. He accomplished a great deal against all expectations and odds.

I had polio as an infant, age one. I avoided an iron lung by a matter of a few days when my condition leveled out. I was almost paralyzed entirely, but I was able to regain the use of my body to a limited extent. I always relied on a wheelchair and crutches to get around. As I’ve aged, my strength and mobility have decreased.Breathe

One of the qualities of Cavendish was his refusal to let others discourage him. Everything he wanted to do he was told that it was not possible. I frequently faced the same. Every school I ever attended, from grade school through graduate school, I was the first student they had ever had in a wheelchair. When I sensed God’s call to be a church pastor, I was told countless times it would never happen.

However, I was taught that anything was possible. I remember my father forbid me from using the word “can’t.” He always insisted that I try with the promise that he would pick me up if I fell. One of the few times I remember Daddy being angry was when a man from the Cub Scouts sat in our living room and told my parents I couldn’t be a cub scout because of the wheelchair.

When I was a pastor, we had a man make a presentation to our church and ask people to join him on a mission trip to Brazil. As I thanked him for coming, I expressed that I thought some of our folks would go with him. He quickly asked if I was going. When I told him that I couldn’t go, he asked if I had prayed about it. Not until then. We did, and a few months later Sharon and I found ourselves in Rio de Janerio. I had to keep learning not to say, “I can’t.”

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A Challenging Mother’s Day

We’re coming up on Mother’s Day once again. It’s true, as you get older, time flies. It seems that it’s only been a year since we last celebrated Mother’s Day. Anyway, I’ve been pondering about mothers. It’s a subject that should interest all of us, since all of us have, or had, a mother.

I have mixed feelings about my own mother this year. I have written before how she has been a special person in my life (see it here), and I will always be grateful for what she has done for me over the years. But it’s been a hard year for Mama.

She has been slowly (sometimes it seems quite rapid) losing touch with reality for several years. Consequently, she has moved from independent living to assisted living to memory care and finally a nursing home over the past few years. My brothers and sister have all been supportive of taking care of her needs, and my youngest brother has gone the extra mile of tending to her day-to-day requirements.Mama and Me

However, today was kind of a new low. Sharon and I went to the nursing home where she lives (a very nice place) to wish her happy Mother’s Day and give her a flower. She is typically in the TV room slumped over and sleeping with her head on a table. I think they try to keep her out of bed.

Today she was at the nurses’ station sleeping in her wheelchair. The nurse was joking with her apparently trying to liven her up. We greeted Mama and took her to her room so we could visit.

She was not happy to see us and kept asking why we were there. I tried to hand her the flower vase, but she wasn’t interested. In the past, I’ve always felt like she knew who I was even if she couldn’t call me by name. But this day was different. For the first time, I asked her if she knew who I was.

She replied, sounding quizzical, “You’re my old man.”

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The Greatest Christmas Gift

Leaving church on Sunday morning with a new outlook on life was not a common experience for Walter. He normally ended the hour of worship with a growling stomach and acute anxiety that he had missed the opening kickoff. But, today was different. Something the preacher said captured his attention.

He didn’t mind going to church, even though he would not classify himself as a steadfast believer. Walter had no doubts about the existence of God, and he rarely disagreed with anything spoken from the pulpit; he just had other interests. He enjoyed church because he loved sitting next to Sally. She was the love of his life, the apple of his eye, and every other cliché you can think of. More often than not, they would even hold hands for a good portion of the hour.

The amazing thing of Walter’s strong affection for Sally is that they were not young teenagers in love. Walter and Sally had been married for forty-two years. Yet, he was just as anxious to sit at her side as he had been when they first met as college freshmen. The years had brought them closer. In fact, since Walter retired six months ago, they spent most of their time together, and he had never been happier.Christmas-Gift

It was the first Sunday of Advent, a time that Walter always enjoyed. He loved everything about Christmas, especially the gifts. For Walter, giving a present was a process, including shopping, wrapping, hiding, and opening. His greatest joy every Christmas morning was to watch expressions as family and friends opened the gift he meticulously picked for them. For Walter, the first Sunday of Advent was the signal that Christmas was almost here.

The sermon by Rev. Wilson was about the gift of God that we celebrate at Christmas. He pounded home the notion that God’s gift was the greatest ever. He defined that gift as loving those who are unlovable. Rev. Wilson was not known for his oratory skills, but whenever he worked at it, he could be as convincing as any car salesman pushing an extended warranty.

Whatever he said on Sunday, he certainly captured Walter’s attention. In spite of the fact that Walter had been attending church for decades and that he had heard hundreds of Christmas sermons, something about the words of Rev. Wilson captured his interest. Like a child entering a toy store, Walter’s mind was racing with possibilities.

He decided that Christmas was about loving the unlovable. This was revolutionary to Walter. He had spent his whole life giving to those he loved. He could not remember ever giving a present to someone who was unlovable. He had never even given it a moment’s thought.

Walter and Sally put on their coats as they walked toward the church foyer. Leaving church was always tedious for Walter because Sally liked to stop and visit with too many people. She was accustomed to Walter tugging on her sleeve like a bored child. On this Sunday, Walter walked off and left Sally. He was in a hurry to speak to Rev. Wilson.

Waiting his turn in line with the complimenters and complainers, Walter finally reached the preacher. Walter stretched out with both arms and grabbed the Reverend’s hand.

“Pastor, you really spoke to me today,” he blurted out as he shook the minister’s hand like a rag doll.

“Thank you, Walter,” said Rev. Wilson in a tentative voice, “I was just trying to say what God laid on my heart.” He was somewhat stunned because he did not remember his words ever having an impact on Walter before.

Almost before Rev. Wilson finished his sentence, Walter said, “Pastor, I’ve got an idea about Christmas. You convinced me that Christmas is about loving the unlovable. That’s what I am going to do!”

Not sure what Walter had in mind, Rev. Wilson said, “That’s good to hear Walter. It’s always good to know that someone is listening when I preach.”

“Pastor, this is my plan. I’m going to find the most unlovable person in town, and I’m going to love them. That will be my Christmas present to them.”

You could still hear some skepticism, or perhaps it was simply reservation in Rev. Wilson’s voice, “That’s great Walter. I’ll be glad to help. Just let me know what I can do.”

Walter didn’t hear the last few words because he had already turned to look for Sally. She was finishing her conversation as Walter seized her arm and escorted her out the front door toward the parking lot.

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Falling In Love

I wrote the following words several years ago and included them in my book “Intermission.” I share them again on the occasion of my 42nd anniversary. As you read these words you will better understand how 42 years is possible. 

A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.  Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.  She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.  (Proverbs 31:10-12)

Finding the right person to marry can be one of the most foreboding tasks in all of life.  In fact, it is such a difficult decision that many young people give up and settle for less than the best.  The acceptable approach to marriage today is to try it for a short time and if the relationship fails, bail out and try someone else.

Fortunately, I was spared the difficult process of striving to locate the perfect mate.  I sometimes wonder if God knew I did not have enough sense to make a good choice so He made it easy for me.  I share how I found a wife with some apprehension.  It is an experience that is not normative for most people.  In fact, I would discourage anyone who thinks they might have a similar experience.Wedding pic0001

Sharon and I met at church.  Although I was already a freshman in college, I still participated in the youth group.  The youth program was led by Sharon’s parents and was built around a musical group called the “Proclaimers.”  We traveled to churches around the state of Colorado and even a couple of trips to churches in Texas.

It was a grand experience for all of us involved.  I knew a little music and played a couple of instruments, but it was in this singing group that I learned how to harmonize.  Sharon’s mother played the piano in the style of Jerry Lee Lewis.  She developed the skill as a very young girl as she played for church.  Elva assigned everyone in the group a part to sing on each song.  During practice, if you could not find your note, she would beat it out extra loudly on the piano until everyone was back on key.  She could lead an entire congregation in singing without ever saying a word or leaving the piano bench.

We learned how to sing from the heart.  Although the music might not have been award winning caliber, the presentation was always meaningful and many people were moved by the sight and sound of committed young people singing about the love of God.  We all developed some great friendships within the group.

When Sharon graduated from High School she moved across the state to attend college.  Although we were friends, we did not date nor did we consider any type of long-term relationship.

In the providence of God, Sharon and I both transferred to Wayland Baptist College in Plainview, Texas, at the beginning of the spring semester in 1973.  We arrived at the Texas campus in the middle of January and neither of us knew anyone else.  Continue reading

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How to Have a Happy Father’s Day

Father’s Day is just around the corner so it seems appropriate to say something about being a father. Most sentiments on this day are presented from the perspective of the child. In fact, I could write an entire book with nothing but positive things about my father. However, this time I want to view the holiday from the perspective of a father.

The experience of becoming a father is securely fastened in my memory; unless you ask Sharon, and she can clarify some of my mistaken memories. I was a seminary student at the time, living in meager student housing. The best thing I can say about our apartment is that the rent was affordable.

I was returning from class for lunch when I saw Sharon walking toward me as I was passing the library. She had been to the doctor so she greeted me with the news that we were going to be parents – I was going to be a father.Branson

To say I was excited would be an understatement, even though I typically don’t show excitement outwardly. However, the euphoria was quickly swallowed by thoughts of what do we do now. Seminary took every penny we had, and at the time, Sharon was our only source of income. She was doing social work on a government contract for a magnificent sum of $600 per month, more than enough for us to live on. If she had to stop working, or if the contract was not renewed, we would be in trouble.

However, I’ve always been a problem solver so the worry didn’t last long. The nine months went by quickly. We took the natural birth classes, all the rage at the time, and her pregnancy was uneventful.

When the morning arrived that the baby was ready to meet the world, I called our friend Bobby and asked him to take us to the hospital before class. We didn’t anticipate any issues. But things didn’t go as planned. Circumstances were that Sharon needed a cesarean, which we were unprepared to face.

That was back in the day when they were smart enough to keep the new father out of the delivery room, so they prepped her, and wheeled her off to surgery. I stood in the hallway, in a city a thousand miles away from any family, with not even a friend nearby. As tears rolled down my cheeks, a woman walked by, gave me a hug and said, “Everything’s going to be fine.” Continue reading

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