A wife of noble character who can find?

Proverbs 31

    I could not begin to put a value on my wife. After 30 years, I find I have become utterly dependent on her. I trust her with my life, and she has never, ever disappointed me.

• She is powerful wind, lifting me to heights that I could never imagine on my own.

• She is like a rudder, keeping me focused and on track. I shutter when I think of what I might have become if left to my own devices.

• She is smart, sexy, and funny often all at the same time.

• She is beautiful both outwardly and inwardly. Those tiny lines you might see on her smiling face are simply her sweet spirit shining through.

• She is the epitome of thrift and creativeness. Sales seem to follow her around. If we need it, she will find it.

• She does the work of many, all without complaining.

• She is generous and kind. I have yet to see her refuse a poor Girl Scout selling cookies. Her fresh baked cookies are famous, liberally given, and short lived.

• She can plan and execute a wonderful vacation for our family on what seems almost nothing.

• She makes us live within our means; yet we have enough.

• We eat like kings, and still she surprises us with new and delectable things.

• She is one of the first to awake, and usually the last to go to sleep.

• I believe she could sew anything – I've seen it with my own eyes, from wedding dresses to suits, often without a pattern.

• She protects her family. I would rather face a mother bear in a deserted wood.

• Her children text just to say “I love you.”

• She is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I may have accomplished a few noble things. I strive to be a good father. I try to be the best husband possible. But any way that you look at it, I got the better deal by far.

All in good time my child, all in good time.

“What do we want God to do for us?” I had asked. It was June, and we were in-between jobs. This weekend I was driving my family up to the San Francisco Bay area so that I could finish all the moving details. Now we were back on the road, traveling north. With our hunger satisfied from our favorite roadside burger joint, we slowly compiled a list as we drove. (I have underlined the answers to pray as they happened.)

1. I wanted to teach in what is called a “Principle Approach” school.
2. We wanted to be in the church for a while before I signed a teaching contract.
3. We wanted to live close to the school/church.
4. We wanted to live in a house. 
5. We wanted a 12-month contract.
6. We wanted good insurance coverage.
7. We wanted to be able to live on my salary so she could be home with our children.
8. I wanted to take a year off to “forget”.
9. We wanted a pastor that loved us.
10. I wanted to teach and also do church music. 

With a desperate prayer, and what faith we could muster, we set out in a new direction. We finally settled in at my in-laws until we could find a place to live. First, I needed some new shoes. The administrator at the last school had given me a going away party and a gift certificate for J. C. Penney’s. It was a hot June afternoon as we drove back from the mall. My wife was pregnant with our 3^rd daughter. We decided to get something to eat, but because of the heat my wife ask for us to stop somewhere nicer than a fast food joint so we could relax and enjoy our meal. Right over the freeway was a Denny’s. The hostess informed us that there was a 20-minute wait for a “non-smoking” table. It was cool and comfortable. That’s all that mattered. About 5 minutes later she returned with an odd but welcome proposition. If we were willing to share a booth with a “nice little old lady” (her words) we could get a table now. We enjoyed a nice lunch and good conversation. When she heard I was a Christian School teacher, she began telling us about the church she had just started attending. We said goodbye, and she left. I thought it was somewhat odd that she could not remember the name of the church, but I marked it up to a “senior memory”. After a few minutes she returned to our table. She had found a bulletin in her car. Not much was said about it, although I though the pastor’s face was vaguely familiar. The next Sunday, my wife suggested that we visit the church. It happened to be in the same general area where we were house hunting. 

When I called to get directions, I found that it was the pastor who answered the phone. During our conversation I learned that I had met him at my college when he was a pastor in Wyoming. Although I had really liked the school and its programs, there was no way either of us wanted to go to Wyoming. 

When we arrived at the church we were met by the assistant pastor. We introduced ourselves and after some small talk, he asked me what I did. I said I was currently working for a computer data center in the area, but was a science teacher by choice. “Don’t leave here until we talk to you”, he said with a smile. 

We were escorted to the adult Sunday school class lead by, of all people, the headmaster of the school. “Don’t ask him what his job is right now, ask him what he used to do”, quipped the assistant pastor on his way out. That started the wheels in motion. After the service I was asked to chat with the pastor and the headmaster.

 I was very impressed with their program. It was a Principle Approach School. They paid 20% more for each class over five. After finding out my background basics, the headmaster was disappointed. “I have a problem. I have all the teachers I need for the coming year, but I would really need you for the following school year. You’re going to go get a job somewhere else, and we won’t be able to hire you”, he said. I assured him I was not looking for a position this school year. He then told me that they would be beginning the 12 month contracts the following year. They provided full insurance. Children of faculty went tuition free. 

I signed a contract in early January. Shortly after, my wife’s aunt was murdered. The pastor gave my wife the money for a flight to West Virginia for the funeral. This was only one of the many times that he showed his love for our family.  After one year of teaching, the assistant pastor left. The pastor asked if we would like to move into the church-owned house across the street.  The next year, the music director left so they could take care of his in-laws. I was asked to lead the church services and the choir with pay! Everything we had asked for (and more) had been provided!

About Cars…

            I think I inherited my dad’s philosophy about cars. “Cars are simply a tool to get you from point A to point B safely, and faster than walking.” Oh sure, keep them clean and fixed up, but they don’t have to be new. In fact, as far as I know, the only new car my dad ever owned was a 57 Chevy that he had before he got married. Mom always got the better car; he drove a work van.

            My dad was also a Mr. Fix-it  He could fix almost anything, and some things that shouldn't have been able to be fixed. I inherited that trait too. Living in California for so many years, I am convinced that u can get almost anything for free (or very little) if you’re not in a hurry and it doesn't have to be new.

            We have owned 12 cars. We have only paid for two of them. One of those was a lemon. There are a few that really stand out in my memory, not because I liked them particularly, but because they were “God Gifts”. 

           

The first memorable car was a blue, four-door 1974 Ford Maverick. It was given to us by a friend. It was in very good shape body-wise. It just had a cracked engine block. Good find, but I didn't have any free money to spend on the car. While we were saving up, the school I was teaching at was broken into, my classroom included. Although they stole mostly junk, I still got a couple of hundred dollars from the insurance company. Money in hand, I went to a local junk yard to see what I could find. Usually all the good engines in this particular yard are already pulled and in a separate room. As I looked around, there was an engine, exactly what I needed, with the transmission still attached lying right there in the aisle. When I asked one of the yard workers how much he wanted for it, he just scratched his head and said, “Where did that come from?” he finally said, “$150.00 and it’s yours.” This was cheaper than the price of just an engine! When we got it home, we realized it had just been rebuilt. The car must have been in an accident. It didn't even have to be rebuilt. We used most of the peripheral parts from the old engine and put it all together. It ran like a dream! We drove it for years. It took exactly the amount of money that I had gotten from the insurance claim. Well, there was $10.00 left over, just enough for a tank of gas.

            The second car was technically never really mine. A friend gave us a car that used to belong to her brother. It wasn't even in that good of shape, but it ran. A mechanic had told her that it had rotten freeze plugs, a nasty fix on this type of car. She asked us if we wanted it to fix up. I reluctantly took the car. Upon closer inspection, the leak turned out to be a bottom radiator hose. After one cut with a knife, I slid the hose back on and fastened the clamp.  A few days later, I sold it for $350.00. Not bad for 15 minutes of work.

The third car was a blessing in the middle of chaos. I was having a rough year. I had lost my dad, and now I had to spend most of August on a jury for a civil trial. We had a new baby, and this made the old car too small. I was having bouts of fierce heartburn. A friend of ours was checking up on me, and I mentioned the car problem. She reminded me that her husband was a used car salesman. (He happens to be the only used car salesman I ever trusted.) They invited us to stay at their house while we looked for a car. He found a van, and even made the financing fit our budget. We even got to drive it back east to visit my mom.

The forth car was actually supposed to be a purchase. We had to make an unplanned move one school year, and needed a second car to get around. A friend told me he had just purchased his dream jeep and had a car, a 1988 Nissan Sentra, which he wasn't driving that we could use. It needed some work, but it ran pretty well. After a CV axle and a replacement door lock from a junkyard, it was ready to go.  It even had the insurance paid for the year. At the end of the year when the registration was due, he asked me if I would like to buy it. He even said I could pay him when I got the money.  I changed the registration that summer. On the first day of school, I noticed a note on my desk. It was from the family that let us use the car. I taught their children and she was also a faculty member. Expecting the usual “welcome back” note I was stunned to read these words:

“Thank you for teaching our children again this year. They really look forward to your class.

Oh, and by the way, consider the car paid in full.”

Yes, I cried, and prayed, and thanked, and drove that car for many years more.    

            The fifth car surprised even the giver. Our van (the lemon) was dead. We were driving all the children to school in the Nissan (loved that car) and then my wife would use the car if she needed it.  My wife was working for the school also, but at a different campus. One of the other faculty members had seen the “prayer chain” request for our vehicle needs. They had a van that none of their children wanted to drive. They wanted to give it to us, but warned it had a pretty bad oil leak. Being a decent mechanic, I was up to the challenge. We picked the van up at school. It was nice! We now owned a 1994 Plymouth Grand Voyager Sport. We drove it to show my wife’s parents, and then home. I would deal with the oil leak later. The next morning I check for leaks. Nothing was found. This went on for a whole week. Later that week, the lady who had been so gracious with the car gift, excitedly commented, “So your husband found the leak”. When my wife said that we were still looking for it, the lady grew pale. She explained that it would fill the bottom of a small pan put under the car each evening.

My wife seems to have the best explanation. It was a “God Gift”. He took what they could give, and fixed it for us. We have since stopped looking for the leak.

            The Truck

            Not long ago, my daughter was putting to rest her old worn out Toyota. We had notified our Church’s prayer chain to pray for a car. I too was driving a little Mitsubishi that was not long for this world. It had a manual transmission and no one else in my family would drive it. (Frankly, I’m not sure they knew how.) A dear friend and school parent called me a few days later. He said that he had a truck for me. He was reading his emails in the study when he came across the pray chain email. It was then that God put a thought in his heart. Give that truck to the Cross family. He went into the living room and told his wife that they needed to talk. She smiled and said, “I already know. We’re supposed to give the Crosses the truck.” Sure, that happens every day, right? OK,  so I went to look at the truck. I figured it was going to be a little, semi worn-out, “beater” truck. As I rounded the corner into their court, I was speechless. It was a 1999 Dodge Ram 1500 in great condition with only 69,000 original miles! To top it off, it had already had its semiannual smog check. What a blessing it was!  I got to give the Mitsubishi to my neighbor’s brother-in-law and my daughter found another small car to get her around. I still am amazed when I thing of all of the undeserved blessings the God has showered on our family. Not long after, a coworker at my summer job commented on the truck. When I told them the story, they said, “Wow, now you don’t see that happening very much!” I just smiled. In our corner of the world, it happens more than you would think…

If It's Not Your Fault, Then Who's Fault Is It?

            “It is Nature's fault that I do not look like a movie star.”

“It is my parent's fault that I have personality issues.”

“It is the government's fault that I can't pay my taxes.”

“It is society's fault that I have a criminal record.”

“It is my children's fault that I have to go to ‘Anger Management’”.

“It is my genetic code's fault that I have a chemical dependency.”

Who Me?

We live in an age of non-responsibility. We have No-Fault insurance, temporary insanity. And the list goes on. So what is the meaning of all of this?

            Is society really to blame? Is it my parent’s entire fault, my spouse’s, my children’s? It is not a new concept. It started in the Garden of Eden. Adam blamed Eve. Eve blamed the Serpent. Interestedly, the Serpent seems to have taken the heat without trying to pin it on someone else. (He did start it after all.) Since then, "the buck" has never really stopped in any one place for very long.

            There are a lot of theories about why we act the way we do. Philosophers, psychologists, and even the common man nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee have reasoned, puzzled and often talked in circles about were the fault lies.  As a school teacher of over 25 years, I have seen and heard a wide range of reasons and excuses for "why I did it". The longer I spend sorting them out, the more I have come to realize that, the reason I am the way I am, is, except for the better parts, ME.

            With all the many ideas that are out there today, were can someone find the truth? The world's basic philosophy is that "truth is relative". If that is the case, then there is no real truth, no standard, and ultimately no problem for anyone on which to place blame. Yet the Bible says that God is Truth. If He is Truth, them why does it seem so hard to comprehend what our responsibilities are? 

            As with most of the world's ills, the problem stems from a distorted view of God's plan for the world and mankind. We do not know His plan because we do not know His Word. We live in the temporary as if it were eternal, and treat the eternal as if it doesn’t exist. I must set the record straight here and now. It is by no means that I can say that I have all of the answers. If Job had to say, "I'm shutting up now" after God questioned him, how much more should I be wary of pride and self-conceit!

            I suppose that even the act of writing a book could be thought of as a form of arrogance. To think that you have something so important to say that everyone needs to read it is quite a bold idea. Fortunately, since most of what I have to say has been given to me by others, I think am safe in sharing it with others.

God Says....

            So what do the Scriptures say about my responsibility? Here are some questions to help you on your journey. But before you go any farther, promise yourself two things:

            1. You will accept God's truth about your life, even if you don't like what He says.

            2. You will do your best to live according to the life changing light of his Word.

Who Am I?

Whose Am I?

What Is My Duty?

For What Am I Accountable?

What Is My Future?

Answers

“Answers: 25 cents. Right Answers: 50 cents.  Dumb looks still free.”

-poster in my dad’s television repair shop

            

Children seem to come into the world asking questions. Why? When? Where? How? Are we there yet? Adults don’t stop asking, they just get more sophisticated in their interrogative adventures. Aside from the mundane “When is supper?”, and “What’s for dinner? “, I only really struggle with 4 major categories. These are in no real order of significance, just in the order they came to mind.

Tough Answers.

            As a science teacher I know all too well the joys of mental mathematical gymnastics. For those sympathetic to number crunching, I have only two suggestions. Clutter your mind with only the formulas and processes that you really need; and make friends with your calculator!

As to the first, I remember being surprised as a teen that my dad didn’t have certain “every day” facts (funny, I can’t even remember what they were) memorized for instant retrieval. As a television repair man, he had to know a volume of “tube” numbers and other parts and lists (yes, I am that old and I do remember TV’s with tubes) by heart to work efficiently on service calls. That was his trade. Since these were “important”, he decided not to clutter his mind with other non-essentials. Yet he was a great father. He knew that trade very well. He studied the art of fishing and passed it on to his children. He didn’t know all the MLB baseball teams with their respective cities by heart. Personally, I think he made wise choices.

Regarding the second, use technology to its fullest. As far as I’m concerned, spell check is one of the greatest inventions of the 20^th century. I still don’t understand why it had to wait until after I finished college to appear. Learn how to use your tools. Learn where to find information. Learn to READ! You will probably never be put in a white room with four bare walls and be told to invent something. You will be given books, manuals, and software with help files (that few ever read). Make friends with knowledge.

Things that don't have an answer.

            As a Bible major in college, we spent many hours in and out of the classroom discussing many things. Some were deep. Some were, well, stupid. I have come to the realization that If we could find all the answers to all the questions, we would be God. As a scientist, I want to know. As a human I may never find the answer. Actually, this thought is very encouraging to me. I don’t have to have answers for everything. It allows me to sleep better at night, knowing that some things are God’s problems.

Answers we don't want to hear.

            I hope deep down, you are a “truth seeker”. Never be afraid of the truth. I can honestly say there are times that I don’t like the truth, but I never want to become a person who rejects it. Start with the Scriptures. God is truth. Go from there. Don’t be in a hurry. You make most of your mistakes when you rush. Pray, meditate, and ask God for wisdom. It’s ok to cringe when you realize truth for the first time. It’s not always fun, or convenient, or easy. It may even be painful. Yet it is the best way, the only way. Embrace it. Share it. Live it. Otherwise, your life is just a meaningless, worthless, lie. 

Answers that we just don't listen to.

            There are still those who, even when confronted with the truth, continue on in their present course. It could be as simple as believing in “wives’ tales” or “urban legends”. These have become the bane of email everywhere. With multiple internet resources dedicated to just this subject, you would think they would stop quickly. I guess people either don’t take the time to check or don’t really want to know the truth. Either way it causes the thinking people of the world much grief. Check it out first!

            A more serious form is the rejection of truth altogether. It could be in the form of prejudice, or just mental blindness. The damage done to lives and property throughout even recent human history in the name of these two seems incalculable. Science, both secular and Christian, has been plagued through the ages with those incapable of discerning the difference between truth, error, theory, and what is still undecided.

So what will you do with all of this? Now there’s a question that only you can answer!

What More Could I Want?

            If I could create my own “happy place”, it would have to be a cabin on a private, medium sized bass lake. I grew up fishing the rivers and lakes of Illinois. Some of my best childhood memories are tied to these trips. In fact, freedom to follow God is linked to fishing in an interesting sort of way. While I was in college, my father was able to purchase a small piece of property on an 11 acre lake. Summers were the best. We would spend humid, quiet evenings casting for bass. He had a small 14 foot boat that he left right on the edge of the lake. Our favorite game was to look for those special “hot spots” along the bank that might hold a promising largemouth. Who ever spotted it first got the first cast. It had better be a good one. If you missed, you didn’t get a second chance. We ended up getting pretty accurate.

When I graduated from college, I took a job in Southern California, and later moved to the San Francisco Bay area. Now the fishing buddies we more than 2000 mile away from each other. As God added children to our family, it became increasingly harder to travel home for summer visits to fish with him.

One cold February afternoon while preparing to go ice fishing on the lake, my father had a heart attack. It was the perfect storm scenario actually. He decided not to wait for the other guy to get there and had hand drilled four holes in the ice himself. He had no phone in the cabin. When his buddy arrived thirty minutes later, he had to walk to the nearest farm house to call. The ambulance got stuck in the snow. They had to go back to the farmhouse to get a truck to push the ambulance out of the snow. By the time he reached the hospital almost two hours had passed. He didn’t live through the night. After the shock wore off, I started processing my emotions. I felt anger and some guilt. I told myself that if I had been back in Illinois, it wouldn’t have happened. If I would have been there, I could have gotten him help sooner.

As I muddled through the grief, anger and guilt, I remembered a conversation with my father that had happened a few years earlier. I think we were coming home from a fishing trip. Although I can’t recall the destination, I remember the conversation as if it had happened yesterday. I remember asking my dad if he ever regretted me moving so far away to California. After giving me one of those “that’s one of the dumbest questions I’ve ever heard” looks, he simply asked me two questions. Are you doing what you are supposed to do? Yes, I said. Are you where God wants you to be? Again, I answered yes. He smiled at me and said, “What else can I ask for? All my children are serving God. What more can I want.”  Peace overwhelmed me. I know that my dad would have liked to spend more time fishing. But I also know he died a happy man.

Fishing buddies got my rod and my reel

Fishing buddies let me tell you how I feel

When you’re fishing with me there’s no place I’d rather be

Fishing buddies just you and me.

                                                                                                        M. D. Cross

Walls

I stand at the base of a wall. It’s is not a high or a substantial wall as walls go. It’s not the shortest or the highest wall, but resides somewhere in the middle. But to those seeing it for the first time, it looks infinite, unyielding, insurmountable. To those of us who have more experience, it is but an easy hop. Beyond this barrier lies another somewhat larger wall. Many walls exist beyond actually, each with increasing height and difficulty. Some enclose very specific environments. Some enclose open plains filled with a multitude of opportunities. Yet if one keeps going, you will eventually come to another higher wall.

            I have been over many walls, more than the average person. I have hopped the beginner’s wall, dawdled over the children’s wall, scaled the middle and high walls, and even soared over the higher wall. The wall of master I have never challenged. I have stood at the base surveying it several times. Each time I was called away to care for a more pressing need.

Truthfully, I know the best path to climb, the surest footholds and most of what lies beyond. I have collected volumes of stories, diagrams, and advice over these many years. I feel like I know the places beyond intimately, even though I have never been there.

Yet here I stand. My assignment, I volunteered actually, is to coach, prod, and encourage those trying to climb the middle wall. I love what I do. It never gets old. I especially enjoy those who, after having climbed to the heights, gratefully return to share their stories and successes with me.

Someday I will get the chance to explore the other walls. Until then, I will continue to help my group of wide-eyed, energetic, and often terrified “middle-wallers” to find the next hand or foot hold. “Up and over you go!...”

How Did I Get Where I Am?

How Did I Get Where I Am?

So how does one become a left hand man? It’s complicated, and simple. It’s complicated because there is a tremendous series of meetings and events that must all come tougher in the right place at the right time. As one looks at the past, it is a dynamic web of intersecting, interacting paths. It’s simple because God is a master craftsman in shaping lives with no waste, and with ultimate efficiency. If God’s life plan is followed, the follower always ends up eventually right were God wanted them. He even accounts for stupid mistakes, stubbornness, and bad choices on the part of the humans involved.

            The complicated for me started with my own personality and upbringing. I have always had a desire to “find out”. As soon as a toy would break, I would take it apart to see how it worked. (My mother claims I took apart some things before they broke; (I officially do not recall any of these events) I loved learning. I’ve kept a myriad of creatures these many years from butterflies to reptiles. I was always devouring science and nature books. My favorite television programs were Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, Jacques Cousteau’s Underwater World, and National Geographic (anything). I still drive my children crazy by watching multiple episodes of “How It’s Made” on Saturday afternoons.

            My mother made sure we were “well rounded”. We took tennis and swimming lessons. She made us read books and take piano lessons. I even learned to play the violin. She sang to us, read to us and made sure we could also do both.

My Father was in the service oriented job of television repair. I learned from an early age to produce a good product and please the customer as much as possible. In my eyes, my dad could fix anything. He worked hard and with these extra fixing skills provided a good life for his wife and five children. We didn’t have all the newest things, but we had what we needed. Most of all, he was a true example of a Godly man.

My path has taken me through many jobs. I started with fast food and Hospital kitchens. In college I majored in Bible and Secondary Education. My minors were Science and Bible. Many at the time thought these were “odd” combinations, but they have turned out to be exactly what I needed.  I was also on the school maintenance crew and quickly moved into the title of “miscellaneous”, filling in for other jobs and fixing a variety of things. I also worked for two companies doing punch press and spot welding. I travelled for the college on a Gospel team for two summers. While teaching I have set tile, done industrial electrical, and helped in construction. My father in law has taught me to be an “above average” automobile mechanic. I have sold sodas at football games and even coached jr. high track.

I believe I learned the idea of being a servant not only from my father, but also from my college training. Service with a good attitude and heart was a core principle. It has never failed me in any of my life adventures. I have not always liked all of my circumstances as they happened, but they have lead and shaped me into what God has planned for me all along. Of this fact I am very sure. As I look back to my past adventures, I can see many of the intricate weaves that God has accomplished to bring glory to Himself, random meetings that turned out to be divine appointments; shattered dreams that became new avenues for success. And after all, isn’t that what it’s all really about, glorifying Him?

I Am A Left-Hand Man.

I Am A Left-Hand Man. 

If this sounds strange to you, you are in good company. It took me a while to accept it myself. Yet curiously, I am not left-handed. I write with my right hand, kick with my right foot, and sight with my right eye. My life is what is left-handed. Let me explain it this way. Think about what the left hand does for a right-handed person. It holds the nail while the right hand hammers; all the while hoping the right hand hits the “right” nail. It holds the book while the right hand points out the interesting parts.  It holds out the award while the right hand gets to shake the famous person’s right hand. It stays at the side during a right-handed salute. It holds the wallet while the money is pulled out, yes, by the right hand. If a finger gets cut while preparing a meal, it will be on the left hand. It takes the impact of the baseball while the short stop’s right hand gets credit for a “nice out” at first base. Basically, it supports everything the right hand does.

When I turned 40, I did my usual “where am I?” personal survey. At first I was disappointed in the things I hadn’t achieved.  I hadn’t written a best seller. I still didn’t have my Master’s degree. I had put myself heart and soul into  raising my 5 children. After some soul searching, God helped me realize that my ministry was not really about me, but to use my talents to support others.

This was tremendously freeing. Think about Obed. What do we know about him? He was the son of Boaz, and the father of Jesse, David’s father. He lived; he died. He may have done some amazing things; he may have lead a completely boring life. Yet if he had not done all the things a human father must do to support his family, there would be no David. And since Jesus was to be from the line of David, there would be no Joseph to raise Jesus. Obed’s real job was to make sure the line continued.

So it’s not about me, it’s about all the others I’m supposed to support. Are you frustrated by your lack of noticeable achievement? Maybe you are one of God’s supporting characters. Don’t be disappointed! You are more important than you will ever know.