The ex-Rev’s Ramblings

I’ve written many blogs during my blogness about the love of my life (not to be confused with blogs I also wrote about my dog, Chipper!) and really am not sure just how to write this one as I don’t want to repeat what I’ve already shared.

I do know that most people in my circle of friendships did not marry their high school sweetheart. I only bring that up because it has allowed us to spend many, many years together … basically from the end of 10th grade until now. I can hardly think of a time when she was not a part of my life and when I do it pales to life with her.

Since I’ve written much about her, I decided this morning to share some things others have said about her, running the risk of remembering other statements the day after this runs! In no particular order and trying not to make editorial comments for context, here are some things that I remember (and remember that I don’t remember all that well these days!) . . .

“She’s an angel. I can’t tell you how much she has helped me and my family through this ordeal in our lives.”

“I love being around Janice! Her laughter is infectuous and you know when she’s around, there will be lots of laughter.”

“I’ve never known anyone of such deep and consistent faith.”

“Does she ever get angry about anything? I have never seen her other than absolutely pleasant.”

“She is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known.”

“Does she ever lose her patience? She has such a gift with children.”

“When Janice asks you to do something, you might as well say ‘Yes’ because somehow she’s going to make you do it!”

“You’ve never had Sunday lunch until you sit around Janice’s table! I’ve never seen so much food for one meal.”

“She has an absolute heart of gold! How did she ever end up with you?” (Referring to the love of her life … a mystery to many people who know us both!)

“How can anyone be so cold all of the time??”

“We are so glad we got Mrs. England as the teacher of our child.”

“Thank You, Lord, for blessing me with someone I will never come close to deserving! Help me to honor her as the gift she is to my life.” Which is my daily prayer.

Sunday is Mother’s Day and I’m not sure we have a clue how to honor those who gave us life and raised us to live life with wisdom, but our children will only know the full extent of this gift in their lives when they look back in retrospect at the love of their mother. Not trying to be morbid, just being realistic. It was only after my mother died that I came to even approaching a more full appreciation of who she was and what she brought to my life.

Not to take away from any other parent-child relationship … my children and our grandchild are blessed beyond anything they can presently comprehend in this fabulous lady they know as “Mama” and “Grandmama.” And were it not for God’s immeasurable grace, she would never have known who I was because she deserved far better than what she settled for in me.

For the most part, there are three women in my life (not counting Chipper, the psycho-pup who happens to be female despite her masculine moniker, or my grandmother Mitchell, who died in 1977 but a HUGE influence in my life) who come to mind this time of year as we approach Mother’s Day. Having written about the faith of my mother, I also think of my mother-in-law. For the record, all those mother in law jokes … never has one applied to this sweet lady in my life.

We call her Nana. Her name is Norma. If ever an angel lived in human form, it would be in this lady! I first met my future mother-in-law the evening I went to Jan’s house to take her out on our first date. To say I was nervous would be a huge understatement. I’d heard rumors of the size of this lady’s husband! But Nana was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met (just like her daughter), both inside and out. She had a sweet spirit and a genuine servant-heartedness (is that a word?) about her that drew people in. She was fun and funny and generous and hospitable. I always enjoyed being around her. To this day I’ve never known a woman who so respected her husband as did Nana. I think it was only after she had a stroke that he fully realized the treasured jewel he had in this woman all those years.

Her life today is a hollow reflection of yesterday when she was so vibrant and loving and fun to be around. Today she is confined to a nursing home and we wonder at times if she even knows us. I haven’t seen her in over three years, but the last time our family was “home” she wasn’t quite sure who Josh and Jessica were and continually asked the same questions of us … questions such as, “Is that Greg” … “Over on the couch, that’s Jessica?” … “And that’s Josh over there?” Over and over and over.

In years past, she was very athletic, very active in ministry, and a wonderful grandmother to all her children’s children. She loved to be in the woods, fishing at a pond or on the Tennessee River, working alongside her husband in ministry, gathering food from the garden, or cooking delicious meals. What she could do with quail is beyond description! Whenever we came home from Florida or California, she would have my favorite cake, Jan’s favorite pie, and the children’s favorite cookies available for us to snack on. She and I had great discussions on Biblical subjects and I always found her far more open-minded than her church tradition allowed. She had wisdom and a refreshingly positive view of life and was a very popular Bible teacher for ladies’ classes.

When Jan and I were dating, it was often an on-again / off-again situation because I was on a non-stop emotional roller coaster at that time, which extended through 11th and 12th grades and the first year of college. Didn’t matter what our relationship was at a given moment, I would receive cards in the mail from Nana encouraging me and expressing her love. She always included cash for me to “get a hair cut” which I always spent on something else. She never seemed to care when we came home from college with a month’s supply of dirty clothes. Mine got washed, folded, and shirts ironed as if I were her only child!

Her love has been unconditional. I miss her greatly. I look forward to a time when time no longer exists and we’ll all be together in our forever home and Nana will be healthy and whole. Until then I continue to enjoy my memories of better days as well as enjoying the greatest gift she ever gave to this guy … my Wife!

My mother has been on my mind a lot these days, probably because her house in Alabama is in escrow and we’re hoping to get one here in California into escrow. For a while I had the thought tucked away somewhere in my mind (neurologists call it the “tucked thought region” … or they should call it that!) that if things failed to work out here for any reason, we could always return to Alabama and move into her house.

After all, it was paid for and even if I had to buy it, my monthly payments would be under $400 as opposed to near $2,000 in California. So even if Janice had to take on two jobs, it could be workable! I also had the fantasy that my siblings would either let us just have the house (hoping, of course, their love for Janice would prevail over common sense) or would be very generous in the price I’d have to pay them … evidence of just how overactive my imagination can be!

Now that we are actively in the housing market, my financial future is of great interest to me! As with any business, and particularly a new business, there are times the cash flow isn’t what you need or had hoped it would be. And when that happens, I, unlike the Wife, have a tendency to worry become concerned. And these days, in my “concern” I’ve thought about my mother.

Honestly, I don’t know how she fed and clothed four kids, not to mention paying tuition for private Christian education and then my college tuition, and for a while, my sister’s college tuition!

We didn’t know it at the time, but Dad was out of work quite often and when we thought he was leaving each morning to go to work, there were times he was spending the day trying to find a job! The final two years of his life, they had no income. Dad had terminal cancer (which he tried to hide from us for at least a year) and all the expenses that go with that disease, only they had no medical insurance. His final weeks were spent in the hospital … with no insurance.

And yet, Mom somehow paid the bills and kept her sanity! She was a firm believer in the statement of the Psalmist: “I have never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.” (Dallas Holm recorded that in song many years ago … still one of my favorites.) Mom’s perspective on that verse of Scripture was even if she were not that righteous, she was definitely the “seed” of a righteous woman and God would provide. And He did. She later learned of her righteousness because of Christ, but that would come years after Dad’s death.

I want that kind of faith. The faith of my maternal grandmother. The faith of my mother. The faith of my wife. Problem is, that kind of faith comes only through trials and trusting. It comes when we reach the end of self and have no other place or person to turn but to God. More often than not, I want a bargain-priced faith but God offers faith only one way … believing in and trusting Him.

So for now, I’ll let the Wife ride this out in faith while I continue to show some “concern.”

I don’t know about where you live, but out here, I just paid $35 for a HALF tank of gas! The “cheap” stuff is $3.81 (and the 9/10s cents, of course) … the “good” stuff we have to use in the funeral coach is over $4.00 9/10 per gallon.

Be that as it may, my sister sent this information to me (something you’ve probably seen by now) and since this is the second day I have basically nothing to post here, I’ll give you this . . . . The price of items per gallon:

Diet Snapple $10.32

Lipton Iced Tea $9.52

Gatorade $10.17

Ocean Spray $10.00

Brake Fluid $33.60 (Warning: not nearly as tasty as the above items)

Vick’s Nyquill $178.13

Pepto Bismol $123.20

Whiteout $25.42

Scope Mouthwash $84.48

Evian Bottled Water $21.19 (Evian spelled backwards: Naive)

Finally (!) the ink in your ink jet print cartridge: $5,200 per gallon!

I really have nothing to post today so I’ll go with American Idol! Brooke White went home in an emotional, tear-filled departure last night. I like Brooke. I also like Michael Johns (the guy from down under) who went home a couple of weeks ago.

What I haven’t noticed this season, and particularly since the top 12 emerged, is any passion in the contestants. The songs each week all but put me to sleep. They don’t seem to care if they win or not. The judges say all they can (except Paula … what an airhead … I don’t understand why she is invited back season after season) to try to get the singers to realize they simply are not bringing anything to the stage.

And each week I am less and less interested in the show. And the song selections this year … who cares what Neil Diamond sang 40 years ago? Those kids never heard of him. To his credit, though, I really liked his song about amazing grace last night! But last week with the Broadway songs was horrible. The second week of Beatles … a train wreck. Maria … yawn. Dolly? Who comes up with these artists??? I defy the AI producers to randomly take an iPod from any one of the contestants and find a download of Dolly, the Beatles, or Neil Diamond! Perhaps Maria (I just don’t particularly care for her) and maybe, if stretched, something from Andrew Lloyd Webber but I’d put my money on the bet that they are not going to be found.

My prediction: Archuleta will take the season but Cook is the one who, if anyone sizzles, really sizzles this season. Personally, I’m waiting for The Next Great American Band to return.

Well, I told you I didn’t have anything about which to blog and you read this anyway!

As regular readers of this blogliness know, we are in the process ordeal of trying to find and purchase a home in which to live out our lives. With prices far below just this time last year, and the whole real estate finance debacle, the selection is huge! And though the housing market will more than likely continue to drop for at least the remainder of this year, we have been told by very trusted friends in the “biness” that now is still a great time to buy because we’re planning on staying a while.

Warning-Mature Readers Only: For the record, trying to find the right house is, in some ways, like trying to get pregnant. (Note: I, personally, have never attempted to get pregnant, so I have no first-hand experience in actually being pregnant, but I have been involved in the process on two, and only two, occasions.) After a while you just hope something works so you can do something else! I remember when we were trying to have our firstborn, Jan’s mom asked us how things were going with trying to get pregnant and I told her, “I’ll be glad when she gets pregnant and we can go back to actually enjoying sex instead of trying to get pregnant!” And furthermore for the record, my wife really doesn’t need to know I included this highly spiritual analogy in this blog!

Now where was I??? Oh, yes … my brother (who has purchased several houses in his lifetime) recently sent me a series of photographs that put this house-buying ordeal into context for us …

THE HOUSE AS SEEN BY THE …

… SELLER

… BUYER

… LENDER

… APPRAISER

… TAX ASSESSOR!

Last week we made an offer on a house that we thought we’d like, but when the bank came back with a counter-offer, we told our agent we’re backing out … not to make a second offer. We loved the layout and the fact the master bedroom was downstairs, which is very rare in houses out here. As it turns out, there was a mold issue in one of the second story closets and each time I came away from that house, I was having “allergy” problems.

Yesterday afternoon, Janice called all excited about a house she found just about three blocks from where we live. Single story (which we’re wanting and having trouble finding). Not an overwhelming amount of work to make it livable, unlike the house we made an offer on last week. Very nice spa/inground pool. (The other house had a nice spa/pool as well … ever since junior high, we’ve had a home with a pool and it’s just something I thoroughly enjoy except for the maintenance. Besides, we do live in the desert!)

I told her I could leave early, to plan a tour with our realtor, but as it turned out, I was working with a family of a suicide victim and was unable to leave early or make the tour. Josh and Heather really liked it so I suppose I’ll try to catch up with our realtor some time today and take a gander at it my own self. Chipper and I took a walk-about over that way last night and I like the neighborhood and the exterior of the house.

Maybe we’ll be moving sooner than later. I just want to get this ordeal behind me. Not unlike trying to get pregnant!! [Please see “For the record…” above.] Now go find a blog that’s actually worth reading.

I believe it was about 20 years ago that I first flew out to Los Angeles for the Pepperdine Bible Lectureship. I was with a friend, Steve “The Puckster” Puckett, who was a veteran Pepperdine attender by then, so I didn’t have to drive the Southern California freeways, which was daunting to even consider at that time. [We thoroughly enjoyed having Puck with us this past weekend.]

The preacher at Rocklege attended Pepperdine almost yearly and had nothing but good to say about it, so I decided to go and the church graciously paid my way. I quickly learned one can find the entire range of teachings from very conservative to very progressive at Peppedine. Paul (the preacher at Rockledge) apparently attended only the “safe” classes that neither pushed his comfort zone nor challenged his orthodoxy. I, on the other hand, avoided those classes in favor of something challenging.

Needless to say, after I returned that first year and shared my experience with the elders at Rockledge, one of them, Bro. Cain (a man I loved and admired to the day he died) decided the Pepperdine Lectureship was, in fact, the anti-Christ (seriously!) and never spoke favorably of the lectureship again!

Though I was not feeling well during the entire week (I later learned I had a “hot” gall bladder which was corrected with medicine and diet), I enjoyed the week tremendously … once I figured out my way around the campus. Hint: Everything is either UP from wherever you are or DOWN from wherever you happen to be! I’ve never been so tired of going up hill and up staircases and down hill and down staircases in my life. You never see a fat student at Pepperdine … not after the freshman year!

It was at Pepperdine that I heard Dr. Oliver Howard, a tremendously gifted scholar and teacher. His Ph.D. is from Hebrew Union and his MA in patristic Greek, and after many years of preaching, he obtained his J.D. and now practices law. But he could take the most complex subjects and teach them on a level even I could understand, opening my eyes to a more biblical understanding of women’s role in the church as well as the role of elders.

That year was when a young song leader by the name of Ken Young was proposing the use of praise teams in the church. He was quite the radical, wasn’t he?! I feasted on the teachings of Rubel Shelly, Mike Cope, Rick Atchley, Edward Fudge, and Joe Beam, to name a few. Later I would come to love Randy Harris and Carol Osborn (my former Greek professor). I was challenged and encouraged as I gorged myself on grace. The evening worship was nothing less than awesome. Three days of classes at Pepperdine filled me enough to make it though the spiritual desert of where I was preaching in Florida, eventually paving the way for me to move to Long Beach where the church had a completely different “heart” than anything I’d ever experienced.

Pepperdine was my week to “hang out” with friends I only saw in Malibu. Thursday evenings became a special time when we’d go out to “the rock” (a rock precipice jutting out over hundreds of feet of space, overlooking the Pacific) and spend time talking and holding one another accountable and praying with and for each other. My friend, Chuck, finally gave his heart to the Lord because of a Thursday night out on the rock.

Last year I met Donna and Teri at Pepperdine and constantly ran into people who knew me through this blog. Bobby Valentine became another Malibu friend, and through the encouragement of “Meowmix,” I met Dr. John Roberts who has become a friend. A couple of years ago I enjoyed the teaching of Brady and the delicious Swiss chocolates he passed around during class. I even went back the second day … for the teaching, of course!

It was a time of connecting with people who’s names I didn’t always remember but we recognized faces and enjoyed meals together. I was privileged to teach a class during the lectureship 5 of the 20 years I attended. In the final years, the best part of the week was the class Dr. Randy Wray taught at Malibu Fish Company, just north on the PCH about 3 miles or so. So deep was the teaching and so rich the fellowship of that class, that I would stay close to Randy throughout the week as he prepared for his class, often at the expense of actually attending keynotes and classes. Randy and I were very different from the others in our fellowship … others who actually went to Malibu for the week to attend the classes!

Some of the best years were when Sharon (she responds to this blog-when she responds-as “harleyrider”), a wonderful lifelong friend and former college roomy to my wife, would come out and hang with us. She was always a blast and we’ve missed her terribly the past few years. I doubt there will ever be anther week at Peppedine when Sharon, Monty, Cecil, Chuck, Don, Kent, John, Randy, Keith, Steve and myself will all be there together, but those were great moments with great memories. However, if Jerry Rushford ever invites Dr. Patrick Mead (and here)to speak or teach a class, I’ll definitely go back up the hill to Malibu!

As for the 2008 Pepperdine Bible Lectureship, I will be M.I.A.

Recently we were having a funeral at the local Catholic church. Since I’ve been to who knows how many funeral masses at Catholic churches and they are all identical (the only difference being English or Spanish, and possibly the songs requested by the family), I look for things to occupy my mind … such as the latest Diocese of San Bernardino Bulletin!!

I’m not sure why the churches in Riverside Country do not have their own diocese newspaper but for some reason this particular church takes the one from the county north of us.

Under the heading, International News was this headline: “Vatican Bishop Points to Modern Social Sins.” That got my attention because if there is one thing I want to avoid at all costs in my life it would be that of incurring the wrath of a Vatican Bishop! So the article lists the seven social sins, defined as “sinful acts that have social ramifications.”

That being the case, I assumed at least a couple of these sins would include bodily functions that involve gas but I was way off in that assumption! After a quick scan to make sure the words guitar, or a the term guitar center was not mentioned, I read more carefully.

1. “Bioethical” violations such as birth control (Guilty)

2. “Morally dubious” experiments such as stem cell research (Hmm… I’m not sure as we use to cut open frogs for no other reason than to inflict pain. Does that fit the “morally dubious” term? I’ll have to appeal to my attorney friends for a ruling on this one. What about it, Dee? Josh?)

3. Drug abuse (Innocent)

4. Polluting the environment (Guilty)

5. Contributing to widening divide between rich and poor (Guilty)

6. Excessive wealth (On a world-wide scale, Guilty)

7. Creating Poverty (Unsure, but probably guilty as I shop Wal Mart and buy things possibly made in some Thailand sweat shop, I’m sure)

Guilty four of the seven, possibly six of the seven. Had I paid more attention in math classes, I could give you the percentage of my guilt … I just know I didn’t do too well in this social sinfulness inventory.

Interestingly, I didn’t see a word about the sexual predatory abuse of children by priests??? Or is that a sin only when “bioethical” violations occur??

“You offend God not only by stealing, taking the Lord’s name in vain or coveting your neighbor’s wife, but also by wrecking the environment….” What about coveting your neighbor’s adolescent child?

So they are now declaring wealth to be a sin when, in fact, throughout the Scriptures and history of mankind, God has blessed numerous people with inordinate amounts of wealth!

Well, Vatican Bishop Gianfranco Girotti, Regent of the Apostolic Penitentiary, call me a sinner if you must. When the Vatican steps up to the horrors of it’s own priesthood, and distributes some of it’s vast wealth to the poor (thanks, Steve, for your comment) then I may consider a reduction in my social sinfulness. Until then, when asked, “Papal or Plastic?” I’ll go with plastic.

… both of whom are attorneys and not “lawyers.” [Dee once informed me that attorneys are good people whereas lawyers are not.]

Over the years I’ve worked as a preacher, funeral assistant, and then as a director, I’ve had both the honor and misfortune of watching honor guards from the various branches of our military services. By far the Marines are the ones who bring moisture to my eyes and make it difficult for me to swallow. They are precise and fine tuned.

And then there are the others, such as the volunteer groups made up of retired soldiers and sailors. I admire them and respect them for the service they provide and most of the time, they do a wonderful job. But there was the group (all retired, very old guys) that showed up at the graveside several years ago … for some reason, they chose to stack their rifles prior to and after the gun salute. While the minister was saying his words, there was a huge commotion over to the side. The rifles had fallen over! They picked them up just in time to march out beyond the grave and give the gun salute. After the first volley (which sounded as seven random shots rather than a single shot), about half of the guns jammed, refusing to eject the spent casing. In a quick decision, they decided to do the second volley with the remaining guns that were still functional. Again, guns jammed. The final “volley” consisted of a single rifle shot.

And if malfunctioning rifles were not enough, the guys with the jammed rifles continued to try and eject the shell while the others were firing on command … something you would expect from Curly, Larry, Moe, and Shemp or the Keystone Cops. When the gun salute was mercifully over, they marched back to their original starting point and re-stacked the rifles … only to have them fall over with another mighty clatter!

An honor guard showed up at our place late last year for full honors (rifle team, bugler, flag team) and had one of the digital bugles that should be outlawed and are obviously the brainstorm of some committee. Were I the “bugler” for an honor guard and I had one of those digital kazoos, the one thing I would be very sure of before showing up for the ceremony would be knowing the thing actually works! That it has fresh batteries and when I push the little button sound came out that slightly resembled “Taps.” But that’s just me. This team shows up and everything went well until Taps. Not a sound. Very embarrassing to the honor guard, to the family, and to our staff.

Recently we had the Coast Guard send out two men to present the flag to a widow. Every military person I’ve ever encountered scarcely gave any other outfit due recognition, but no one has ever claimed the Coast Guard to actually be a part of the military … other than members of the Coast Guard. That’s just my observation … nothing personal nor offensive intended. But these guys show up and my funeral assistant that day just so happened to be a Marine. (I learned last week there is no such thing as an “ex-Marine.” Once a Marine, always a Marine! Never again will I introduce her as an “ex-” Marine!) She is not just a Marine, but one with a critical eye. First thing she noticed was their trousers not fitting correctly. Too tight and too high over the shoes. Second thing: One of them was chewing gum! She almost went livid over that.

When they “folded” the flag, it was obvious they had volunteered to get out of something else that day and had never actually served in an honor guard. They were clueless as to how to correctly (and I might add, legally) fold a flag. When it was presented to the widow, the escort from the Riverside National Cemetery immediately came to me and said, “Get that flag, now! It’s folded illegally and I’m not going to allow that to happen on my watch.” I’d never had that happen, but I got the flag from her as discreetly as I could while the preacher did his spiel and we stepped away from the shelter and quickly folded it. Correctly / legally. While the two Coast Guardsmen walked to their car, watching us re-fold what they thought they had done correctly. I would love to know their conversation as they drove away.

Last week it was the Marines again. Burying a Sgt. / Purple Heart recipient from Korea. A man who went to Camp Pendleton and San Diego or Los Angeles airports every time a group either shipped out to or returned from Iraq or Afghanistan. He was a Marine’s Marine who befriended thousands of his comrades over the years. His grandson said from his earliest memories, his grandfather had him and his friends doing push ups and “training” to one day become Marines! Good stories came from that funeral service, but I don’t use those kind of words on this blog and they just don’t come across the same cleaning up those kinds of words!

The unit that showed up for his honors consisted of a 7-man flag team / casket bearers (which is probably not the correct term, but I was never in the Coast Guard, much less the military), an 8-man rifle team (7 rifles and a commander), a trumpet player for taps (the real playing of taps on a real trumpet and not the canned digital kazoo), as well as a bag piper (not a Marine). A gunnery sergeant who was also a purple heart recipient showed up out of respect, as well as a retired full bird Colonel. When these guys fired their guns, it was one sound. Taps was flawless. The flag was perfect! And once again, I stood there with moist eyes and a lump in my throat. And once again, I regret never having served my country in the armed forces.