Who Am I?

 

Identity is an interesting concept. Many spend countless hours struggling with the concept, while others rarely give it a thought. It can be crippling; It can be amazingly freeing. In Western society especially, cars, sports teams, and occupations are among the major identity markers.

 My father helped me with cars. He would always say, “A car is simply a tool to get you safely from one place to another”. We’ve owned many over the years. Yet I really can’t say I miss any of them that much. Although there was that black Nissan Sentra that seemed to run on oxygen, but that’s another story. Recently, a few of my students told me I should get a new car. I admit, I decided to play games with them. I ask them what I should get. They recommended a BMW. So I ask them, “I’m supposed to go into debt to drive 4 miles to work just because it looks better than my paid off, old faithful Toyota with 250,000 miles on it. Hard pass on that one.

Others try to identify with a sports team. I see flags flying from windows, trailer hitches, and even in front of houses. The diehards may have a license plate cover (on their identity car) with their favorite team. They even say “we won!” when the contest is finished, even though there is probably no one on the team that even knows they exist.

Men especially, may use their occupation as an identity marker. “I’m a teacher. He’s a doctor. Over there is a plumber. Wives may even succumb to the charm of being a (fill in the blank) wife. I remember someone in Bible college asking Pat (we were still engaged) if she was called to be a “teacher’s wife”. I loved her answer. She replied that she was called to be his wife, no matter what he did. It’s only one of the many reasons I was totally smitten with her.

So where should we get out identity? I don’t know about you, but time has taught me that, on my own, I am nothing special. Every accomplishment, every trait that others may appreciate in me is a gift from God. Value comes from many directions, rarity, individuality, condition, or even beauty. I am none of those. But, I am loved. Sometimes something is priceless because of what it means to the owner. I have value because I am loved by God. I still like saying that I’m a teacher, I’m a father, I’m Pat’s husband. But my real worth comes from being loved by the creator of the universe. And I’m just fine with that. 

Did Jesus Have Lemons?

 

Often the simplest question can spark interest in the young mind. Recently the question came up, “Did Jesus have Lemons?”  I have no idea what thought process produces this, but just for fun, let’s run with it.

It turns out, after some research, that the answer is most likely, no. As far as we know lemons came from Asia and didn’t get to the Mediterranean area until about the second century AD. They started being cultivated in Europe in the mid-1400s and made it to the Americas with Columbus.1 So, unfortunately, Jesus would probably not have said “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

So what is my point? I’m glad you ask. (I mean one of you did ask didn’t you? Come on, humor me.) I have always tried to keep learning something new. It could be a new hobby, caring for a new animal, growing a new vegetable, or just learning new information, like the history of lemons. A lover of learning is called a “Philomath”. I like the sound of that. I want to be a Philomath. I never want to stop learning. Years ago, I had a student refer to me as a modern-day Renaissance man. While I think he was slightly exaggerating, I love the idea. If we want to be relevant and not get stale, we need to continually pursue new information and ideas. Always stay curious. It helps keep you young. It also give you things to talk about to total strangers on 5 hour flights. (Ya, not so much of a priority for my wife.) So make it a goal to learn something new this year. The world is your oyster. Hey, you might as well start there. Do you know where pearls come from?

¹ (Julia F. Morton (1987). "Lemon in Fruits of Warm Climates". Purdue University. pp. 160–168.)

Music That Touches the Heart

 

If I had to describe my music preferences in one word it would be eclectic. The Oxford dictionary defines eclectic as: deriving ideas, style, or taste from a broad and diverse range of sources. I probably have a different style for relaxing, meditating, worship, working, fishing, and even grading papers. Sometimes they have lyrics; other times I need only instrumental. I especially love movie soundtrack, even if I have never watched the movie. Music can paint pictures, bring back old dusty memories or even put us in the mood to dream.

Yet one person’s music is another person’s noise. My wife and I don’t always agree on what we find relaxing or entertaining. I enjoy classical music, Motzart and Bach especially, for the complexity and patterns that play out. She often finds it harsh or grating. My son loves country music. I can only stand to listen to it for about 30 minutes without it affecting my mood. Yet we both can listen to good bluegrass, especially banjo for hours.

My criteria for choosing music has evolved dramatically over the years. I used to have a long set of rules. Now it has been pared down to a choice few.

1. Is it scriptural? I think this one explains itself

2. Does it bother someone around me? In this day of wireless headphones, sharing should be a thing of the past, but alas, it still can be a problem. Please be considerate, especial in cars!

3. Does it bring be closer to a worshipful spirit toward God? This applies to both worship and what some call “secular” music. Does it lift my spirit? Does it cause me to be a nicer person?

I guess I’m getting “more mature”. (Older is not in my vocabulary.)  Sometimes the simplest melody can bring me to tears. I cry at happy endings. I have begun to cherish simple, organic worship over the larger productions. One of my favorites has begun to be older (let’s be real, ancient) hymns with a new melody or instrument style. I leave you with one of my favorites.

Here is the link for How Deep the Father's Love (Official Music Video) | Celtic Worship on Youtube. I hope you like it as much as I do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfhRs5g5t8M

 

The Little Things

 

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7 (NIV)

 

I have always tried to teach my children about prayer. We have even prayed for parking spots. Yet God needed to teach me a lesson that nothing is too small for prayer.

I was visiting a good friend in southern California and we decided to take his children fishing. We were on one of the local piers in the San Diego area. Because they are heavily fished, most of what you see caught is on the small side. We had been there for about ½ an hour or so and really hadn’t caught anything. Suddenly his youngest son got a bite and reeled up a tiny little surf perch. “We prayed for that”, he beamed. Sure, you prayed for that. A fish that can be caught anytime on these piers. Still it kind of nagged me that I ended up being “skunked” that day. No bites, nada, not a one.

A few weeks later I was at my old haunt in Half Moon Bay poke-poling for monkeyface eel. I had covered the whole area and not seen a thing, which for me was very unusual. While pondering this dilemma, a though floated through my thick head. “So, you don’t have to pray for fish, eh?” Now maybe God doesn’t talk to you in your head, but he and I have had some really interesting conversations. I tried to ignore it for a while, all the time catching NOTHING. Finally next to a big rock by the shore, I knelt in my waders on the sandy beach, acknowledged my pride and unfaithfulness, and prayed for fish. I returned to the normal circuit that was my usual pattern, and ended up with a sizable bag of eel, rockfish, and crab. I can never walk past that rock without smiling. God does have a sense of humor. It has now become a must, even when fishing with strangers, to pray before we fish. Funny, no one seems to object. I guess they figure they need as much help as they can get. I know I do.

Sometimes You Just Need A Good Shove. (Remembering Evangelist Gary Gillmore)

 

    This week I found out that Evangelist Gary Gillmore pasted into eternity in July of 2023. Even though you may have never heard of him, he has had a profound influence in my life.

    The summer of 1978, was a very tumultuous time. I had just graduated from high school and was trying to decide what to do with my life. I was looking at 3 career possibilities. Part of me wanted to go to diamond appraisal school and make my fortune. Part of me was considering a musical degree/career as a song writer. Another part was considering a science degree working toward a career in the CDC tracking down strange and unusual diseases. Then there was the part of me that was running from God.

    I ended up finding a new girlfriend, and having surgery on my leg. The surgery I needed; the girlfriend was connected to the running from God thing. I remember a week late in August, where not only was I discouraged because I was hobbling around on crutches, but my parents made me go to evening evangelistic meetings every night at our church. Each night was worse than the previous night. I don’t remember what was said, but do I know I was uncomfortable. My brother was already in Bible college and I know my parents “expected” me to go also. Each night brought a feeling in the pit of my stomach not unlike the felling of the first big drop on a high roller coaster. It is a feeling that I do not cherish in the least. By Wednesday it was constant and I found myself taking sinus medicine just to take the edge off. By Friday night I couldn’t stand it. I remember sitting in my bed, contemplating the present, the future, and all the various scenarios. To this day, I cannot tell you where it came from, but I knew I needed to make a choice.  I could keep going the direction I was headed (I’ll spare you the details of a life spiraling out of control) or I could give in to the will of a sovereign God. If I kept on the present path I somehow knew I would be dead in 6 months, probably due to my own devices. It was in that moment that I arrogantly told God, “All right, I give up. Go ahead and ruin my life.” The roller coaster stopped.

    At church on Sunday I (more at my mom’s urging that anything else) told Rev. Gillmore that I would be going to Bible college. Instead of the ol’ “atta boy” I got, “I’m not sure I believe you. I will be at that college in September. Come see me if you make it.” You have to admit, he didn’t mince words.

    Fast forward to September and this young man is standing in a line of dewy-eyed students waiting to meet the visiting “evangelist” and get their Bible signed. When it was my turn he held his hand out for another Bible, and only looked up when he noticed nothing was placed in his hand.

    He peered up at me and asked, “Can I help you?” “Do you remember me? I asked. After a long pause he admitted he was stumped. I told him my name and the name of my home church . I reminded him of what he said. I saw a smile slowly spread across his face. I really didn’t think you would make it”, he murmured.

    Fast forward 4 more years to graduation year, 1984. Rev. Gillmore was visiting college for the day and spoke in chapel. I stood in line, just like last time, only this time he remembered me. I just wanted him to know I made it.

I did have the chance several years ago to track him down through email and let him know I was still teaching Christian school after all these years. I thanked him for giving me the shove I needed all those years ago. His grandson was glad I had let them know. You may have never heard of him. But without his influence, you would have never heard of me either. Gary, I thank you for your love and service.

      In Loving Memory of 

   Gary Lawrence Gillmore    

August 20, 1940 - July 26, 2023

The Daily Race

 

In 2022, we spent a week in Kauai for our 40^th anniversary. One of the iconic sights there are the feral chickens, a holdover from Hurricane Iniki (1992). The islanders’ chickens got all mixed up after the coops were destroyed and they ended up with these birds. I asked one of the native islanders if they eat them. He said, Yes you could, but most would rather have the famous Costco Rotisserie chickens instead. The native chickens are tough, stringy, and gamey tasting. It’s too much work for too little effort to make a meal of them. Still people feed them just the same.

Have you ever felt that way about carving time to ready scripture? I’m not referring to my three friends who can hop out of bed, sans coffee, and jump right into the morning. Hey, for all I know they might even be part alien. I’m talking about the daily grind; trying to read tiny text through triple progressive lenses, while constantly adjusting the focal-arm length. The struggle is real. I am still resisting the larger print edition. I can change the font on my app anytime I choose, thank you. I tend to do mostly audio Bible anymore. It’s less work on the eyes, and I can cover more ground at one sitting.

One of our dearest friends has recently been promoted to “Family Life Pastor” at her church. We got to visit them and their church over the New Year’s break. The lead pastor, Ryan Nuñez, does a daily podcast every morning. The podcast originally started during Covid, and really never stopped. It’s called “The Daily Race”. It’s just long enough for the drive to school and a little time to meditate on what you just heard. Kind of like having someone make breakfast for you. It is a good way to start the morning. If you struggle in the morning to get going, I suggest giving it a try. You will be surprised how it will change your morning attitude.

If you are interested in listening to the Daily Race on Youtube, here's the link.

https://www.youtube.com/@thedailyrace3405

I’m not sure why, but I’m Grateful…

    This year for the holidays we took a trip to Texas to see my daughter’s family, with a side stop in Arizona to see more friends and family. As road trips go, it was one of the most relaxing trips we have taken. We were worried that we would be driving through rain the whole trip, but instead, a bubble of good weather seems to follow us. I have never seen the roads so free of traffic and moving so smoothly. The car ran great and we had comfortable stops at each place. We even got to stop and look at Native American art and souvenirs as we travelled through some of the local reservation land. I’m not sure why we had it so easy, but I’m grateful.  

    We got to spend several days with three of our nine grandchildren. We played games, went to a movie, watched Christmas specials, and ate very well. I found out that my grandchildren loved to watch me play Pokémon Go. They made sure that Papaw remembered that in Pokémon you “got a catch ‘em all”. The loved to snuggle up close and see what I caught next. They loved spending time with Memaw and Papaw. Honestly, I’m not sure why, but I’m Grateful.

    I got to rest and refresh, and even see butterflies flying around in late December. I took walks with my grandchildren. I slept in. I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to. I’m not sure why, but I’m Grateful.

    God has been so good to us. We’ve raised five children and now have nine precious grandchildren. Most of the time that was on a single salary. We have always had everything we needed and many things we just “wanted”. I truly have a blessed life and have received much more than I ever deserved. I’m not sure why, but I’m Grateful.