Greenpastures313’s Weblog

I got to tell you about my phone. Pride goeth before a fall. Yes, I was prideful, I admit it, but justifiably so. I had taken abuse from friends and family about my phone. Compared to most new phones out there, mine looked obsolete, although it too was a new model. Designed to military specs, my phone was water proof, it would ring under water, dust proof, shock proof. It was the Hummer of cell phones. And like the Hummer, it was slightly larger than the typical phone. No slim line profile, no palm sized device. This thing had a bumper grill on it! Drop it, throw it, submerge it. My friend at church gave me grief as did my own children right after I got it. “That’s huge, look at it!” Hey get off my back about the phone. Let me tell you about this phone. Several weeks ago, I plowed my garden patch. I mean I was turning some ground, turning plow going deep. I worked for about thirty minutes then got off the tractor. I went for my phone and realized my belt clip case was upside down and empty. I looked frantically all around the yard where I had been working. No luck. I asked my son to call my phone. He did. So did my wife. Eighteen or twenty times they alternated calls to my number. Emma said “Shhh – I think I hear something.” Very faint, we all heard the ringing and uncovered the phone in about eight inches of loosely plowed earth. Brushed it off, worked fine. “Let’s see your little yuppie phone do that” I said to my friend after relaying the story to him. I should have sent a note to Verizon. I could have been the “Jared” of the cell phone world, contracts, testimonials, commercials, the launching of a great media career. Alas we never learn, at least I don’t sometimes. Just last night, after so much boasting in defense of my “really huge phone” I did it again. Except this time I wasn’t plowing the garden. I was bush hogging. Yep you guessed it. Seems my hummer could take being run over and plowed under, but not even it could withstand 600 rpm of steel cutting down everything in its path. I found the remains. Looked like a jet had crashed landed, instrumentation, pieces, plastic strewn over a ten foot radius.  So I’m in the Verizon store this morning. “You got that water proof phone in?”

“No man, we’re out of em. Might have some in next month. We just can’t keep em.”

“Say it aint so, Pedro!”

So, here I sit with this little wimpy slim phone that cost me $126 and fit to be tied at myself for not remembering to put the blame thing in my pocket before gettin’ on the tractor. Wonder how long I can pass this off before my firends notice it and say “Hey, did you get a new phone?”

So much for indestructible.

Saw my good friend Gary Kirdendall today in Lagrange. I was doing what I do everyday, measuring for new countertops in Lagrange so I stopped off at Broad street to see the progress of the church’s building project. Gary was painting interior walls till I gave him an excuse to take a break. Didn’t get to do lunch this time. Last month Gary and I went to some really cool italian sub shop, the name escapes me right now, but the sandwich was great. It’s always great to see the Kirkendalls, old friends from wayyy back.
Finished reading The Shack last night. Broke me into pieces several times. Also got me to thinking more intentionally about relationship – creating, living, deepening. Several cords were struck. “Papa” was one of them. My dad was known to all his grandchildren as Papa (not granddad, or pawpaw or poppie as some refer to their grandfathers. Those names mean nothing to me). But “Papa” – that was bitter sweet. If you didn’t know, we have three children. Zack(16), Emma(14), and Zoe’ (18 months today, the 27th). We consider her our symbol of life, for such is the meaning of her name. When Emma chose that name, however, several months before Zoe’ was born, we could not and did not imagine how important that would be. You see, Zoe’ was born December 27, 2006, the very day that my daddy passed away. Her birth was a planned c-section, his death totally unplanned. I struggled that day. How do you mix such joy and sorrow and stay sane? Be strong for the children, hide what you know until after the birth so as not to add pressure and grief to an already stressful, though much anticipated, surgery. That is what I did. I heard my daddy’s words in my head – he used to say “you got to keep a stiff upper lip.” In the months to follow, as we continued work on the new house, a house that Papa helped me with practically every weekend, I would often fail to control my upper lip. Here are the locks that he and Zack installed on all the doors. The hardiplank siding he cut, board after board. The tools, equipment and manpower he hauled over here saturday after saturday to help us realize our dream. This is “Papa’s Place” as much as or more than anybody’s. He was Papa to all of us, not just the grandchildren. To me he was a god.

I spend most of every day on the road. Today I was in Auburn AL and Columbus GA measuring for granite and solid surface countertops. I’m the measure/template guy for much of south Georgia and parts of east Alabama.I’m thankful to have a job and I’m thankful to have a good church for which I preach. Both jobs bring satisfaction and sometimes a little stress. But it’s all good. Summertime is VBS time at First Street which takes place each wednesday night of June and July. Summertime is usually when people dive into remodeling projects at home, but not as much this year. Things are slow. I measure for solid surface and granite/quartz for a dozen Lowes stores and about nine Home Depots from central GA south. But things are slow. The fabricator I work for is located in ATL but they have shops in Savanna, South Carolina, North Carolina and Birmingham so it’s pretty big. Still, yall need to get out there and buy some corian!

I just got home from our youth’s rehearsal for this week’s VBS skit and it’s not dark yet. Think I’ll go find something to do outside. Thanks for reading my ramble.

A few quick thoughts before heading to town and to church. First of all good morning. It’s 9:15 AM EST time where I am.
I found an old railroad spike in the churned up earth of my garden a few weeks ago. It could be a hundred years old by the looks and design of it. Or a little less than that. Anyway, it’s old, very old. I used it the other Sunday as an object lesson for the little ones at church. This could have been what the nails looked like that fastened Jesus to the cross, I said. Those would be very old indeed were they still in existence. Let your imagination work and you can believe that this might be one of those nails.
I’ve stepped on nails before (not on purpose) that penetrated my boot and went into my foot. It hurts. The nails that penetrated Christ’s hands and feet were no common nails (pardon the pun). They were invasive. They mangled muscle and severed nerves. They created a river of blood flow. The nail sits on my desk along with other little remembrances taken from the ground. This to help me remember everyday to think about the Lord dying for me.

Should the US increase drilling for oil at home? absolutely. Shoud we drill in ANWR? absolutely! Should we drill offshore? absolutely!! should we explore altenative sources of power as we continue to draw upon and refine fossil fuel? Yes,Yes. Do whatever it takes. I’ll go you one better. To the victor go the spoils. Iraq owes the United States, big time! Kuwait owes the United States from way back, big time! Negotiations of top oil producing companies with Iraq is a step forward. Sadam kicked them out 36 years ago, but the opportunity for american oil companies to regain business in the region is promising. It needs to be quick, though. Or how about this: Dear Mr and Mrs Iraqi citzen free from a tryannical maniac of a dictator, Your freedom and democracy is very precious. Here’s an invoice for twenty billion barrels of oil. That won’t bring our lost ones back, but by God it’s a start.
I’m all for big oil! It provides big jobs. Capitalism and free market are good things. Make a profit, get rich if you can, drive the economy, put people to work. I never got rich as a self employed business man, but you can bet I went for the highest profit margin I could attain and still compete. Some contract work I did cost plus. Some I did by the hour. Some I bid a fixed price, but my objective in all was to make my salary, pay my expenses, pay my overhead, and then, on top of that, show a profit. This was my bonus money that bought extra equipment, kept me going during slow times, and paid for the luxuries we determined we could afford. In other words, the profit, for the most part went into my local and national economy as well as savings and retirement funds.
Obama has a plan. He wants to penalize the oil companies for making a profit with a windfall profit tax. How about the federal government paying a windfall profit tax on what it makes on a gallon of gas. It could do so by merely slashing the taxes it tacks on to the price of gas. Talk about giving the economy a shot in the arm. That, better than anything, would give the consumer some immediate genuine relief and also help us see a little light at the end of the tunnel. In the meantime, our troops can “load them barrels on the ship, boys, we’re headed for home.”

We often think we would have been different, had we lived when they lived, had we seen the things which they saw. We say that we would have believed, that we never would have crucified the Lord. If he were here now, we would honor him and if we had lived then, we would have accepted him, instead of nailing him to a tree. How naïve we are. The self-righteous religious leaders of Christ’s day were equally naïve. They said, “If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets.” (Matthew 23.30).
But mankind is mankind and human nature is what it is. The invaluable commodity of hindsight is ours. Seeing what is standing right in front of us or approaching us from the not too distant future is where our weakness lies. Jesus is Lord, but he is often a dishonored Lord. And there are many who “crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame.” (Hebrews 6.6).
This is what we must do differently. By changing our ways now (repenting) we may escape the condemnation of our forebears. We must lose the self-righteous posture, the prideful, self-congratulatory “I never would have done that” attitude. We did do that. Christ is set before us today, just as he was set before them two thousand years ago. We see his sacrifice, his death and resurrection. Christians see these things each Lord’s Day in communion at the Lord’s Table and that is sufficient. You don’t need a miracle or mystical experience. What you need is to accept that Jesus is God’s Son and bow to him in humble obeisance and obedience. This is the only way you can honestly do things differently.

Where are you, O Brother? Has it really been
twenty one years since we gathered
in the great sanctuary with
our families and friends?
It was on a Sunday in May.
We wore black robes, cords of gold.
The Doctors and the Masters
unleashed us on unsuspecting
flocks. We went out among them,
the sheep and we herded them
around within the fold.
Did one venture away on the hills?
I got him, I said, I’ll get him
I’ll bring him back.
But did I?
Do I?
Dear Doctors, dear Masters, forgive
the hubris and the posturing.
We try, yes, but we try
humility
patiently
patently
paternally,
as a father
doth his children.

It’s bedtime, but here I am again. I’m trying to make this regular without making it consume me. Writing is something I love to do. For nearly ten years I’ve had the priviledge of writing a weekly column for our local paper, The Cordele Dispatch. Those who write regularly know the sensation of putting together a piece that sounds good, at least in your own head. I believe that self-satisfying thoughts sucessfully put on paper produces a mild adrenaline rush. If I’m dog tired, but yet able to come up with something that I like, I get energized  and don’t want to go to bed.  The opposite also occurs at times. Being so dog tired that writer’s block sets in and you end up writing gibberish and feeling more tired. That’s when I reach back two or three years and find something. A re-run.  Alter the title and maybe edit here and there and, voila, just in time to make deadline!

Today was a good day. My family brought me breakfast in bed, actually on the love sofa in our bedroom. Strawberry pancakes, an egg, bacon, juice and coffee. Vickey gave me a copy of The Shack, which I just started on before beginning this post. I was also given a minifridge fully stocked with diet pepsis, reeses, and snicker bars, (hey, I don’t drink diet pepsi to curlail my sugar intake. I drink it because I like the taste) and a mini coffee pot for the master bedroom. I intend to turn our bedroom into a semi luxury suite, fully self contained for at least three days in case I decide to vacation there. Make a pot of coffee, sit on the veranda, watch a little TV, read a good book.

I dreamed about my dad last night. A disquieting dream in which he was sick and I was trying to help him, to clean his face with a cloth. I woke myself talking to him but hearing no reply, at least none that I can remember. Other dreams have included my dad, but in none of them does he speak. In one he and I were merely standing next to one another. He had his arm aound me and mine was around him, heads slightly bowed as if looking for something to say and not finding it. No words, just that posture, and then the dream was over. I miss him.

Emma called this morning to say happy father’s day. She’s still in Nashville at Lipscomb with aunt Gayle attending a youth rally. That was a first and yet another sign that I’m getting older. The days are coming, Lord willing, when all my children will be calling me on Father’s Day, instead of being here with me. Sobering thought.

Good night all, and good night John and Margaret if you read this. Still calling your name in prayer.

Glenn

Not much, but every little bit is needed. My garden needs it. Down side is the grass grows also, which is ok because I’ve redeveloped an enjoyment in cutting the yard (our yard is about 3 acres). The lawn mower has only a 38 inch deck so it takes many laps, but what a great way to zone out and just think about stuff or think about nothing at all. The noise drowns out the cell phone and everything else. Also, for the largest area not immediately close around the house I use a Massey Ferguson 165 with a 5 ft bushhog. Let the grass grow. When we lived in the parsonage in town Vickey did most of the yard mowing. It was small and didn’t take long. And for the last two summers we just paid our friend Jack from church to cut it. Now that we’ve moved to the new house we both have a higher level in pride in taking care of the yard.  When you want to do something, you just naturally do a better job and it’s not really a chore.

Today we went to town and cleaned the church building and I visited my son, Zack at work for a minute. Zack has a job at Ace Hardware and he’s doing really well. He likes it too. His boss approached me the other day in the parking lot and told me what a great job Zack was doing and he hoped he would be around for a long time. Of course my head wouldn’t fit through the door after that!

Emma is away with aunt Gayle and cousin Haley at Impact in Nashville. She’s doing great in everything. She would have been undefeated in all her school tennis matches this year if not for an aggravated knee problem that forced to forfeit a match which she was winning when her knee went out. She’s doing good though with recovery and strengthening so hopefully it won’t be a problem next season. Next week she’s off to softball camp in ATL in preparation for the season when school starts back.

Zoe’ is learning a new word a day it seems. Her most repeated word is no. whenever you ask her something, like “did you have fun today?” or “are you thirsty?” she shakes her head and says “No” as she’s reaching for the drink.

Friends are coming over tonight for supper. I’m grilling hamburgers and hotdogs to celebrate Vickey’s BD which is Monday. We’re also celebrating our friends’ completion of adoption proceedings for Dee, the 2 year old they’ve provided foster care for since she was 2 days old. They’re also in the process of adopting Dustin, a 4 year old they’ve had for about 2 years. What an exciting time for them! Please remember them in prayer that everything will continue to progess smoothly. These children have been saved from God knows what because of Barry and April.

Gotta go light the grill! See ya. Thanks for reading.

Glenn

Scripture tells who God is. It is a revelation of God and his Son Jesus Christ. Of all the analogies used to convey God’s image to us, Father seems to be most prominent. Father: this is what God does, this is who God is.

Scripture assigns much importance to the role of fathers and mothers. It is interesting to note the proper names found in the Bible in which “father” is found in their translation. For example, Barabbas means “son of a father,” Antipas means “like the father,” Cleopas means “of a renowned father,” and Sopater means “savior of his father.”

The Bible speaks of God as the father of the stars and heavenly luminaries because he is their creator. He is the father of all rational beings, angels and men. God is the father of Christians. he is the father of Jesus Christ. That one word, “father,” is broad enough in scope to include every facet of God’s personality. He is provider, protector, defender, savior, encourager, instructor, corrector, model, shaper.

Since God is Father, and the essence of God’s identity is contained in his fatherhood, it follows that being Godlike is successfully attained, at least in part, through being a good father, having the same godly characteristics and attitudes as fathers that God the Father possesses. What are some of those characteristics?

A good father is compassionate. “As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him.” (Psalm 103.13). Compassion stems from remembering what life was like for you when you were growing up. Compassion begets tolerance, patience, long-suffering, mercy. Compassion is feeling what your children feel, hurting when they hurt (and more so), and responding to those feelings and hurts with tenderness and understanding.

A good father has his priorities in the right order. The prophet says that when “Elijah,” the forerunner of Christ, would come he would “turn the hearts of fathers to their children, and the hearts of children to their fathers.” (Malachi 4.5,6). Fathers sometimes turn their heart toward things that are less important than their families. Good fathers focus on their family’s spiritual and physical wellness.

A good father encourages and exhorts. The apostle Paul wrote, “As you know, we dealt with each of you like a father with his children, urging and encouraging you and pleading that you lead a life worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.” (1 Thessalonians 2.11,12). Urging, encouraging, and pleading . . . that you live a life worthy of God. We need to urge our families, not browbeat, pressure, manipulate, but definitely urge them to live for Jesus. Some things that every good father will do to encourage his children are:
Talk to your children a lot.
Say “I love you” several times a day.
Do things your children want to do.
Give and receive hugs frequently.
Ask your children about their day.
Tell your children how good they are.
Never let a promise be broken that you could have kept.
Say “good morning” every day and do so with enthusiasm.
Sing your children’s favorite songs to them often.
Applaud your children for doing something well.
Say please and thank you.
Pray with your children and so teach your children to pray.
Laugh with your children, not at them.
Tell them that Jesus loves them.
Sit in the floor with your children and put something together or build something.
Hold them.
Let them help you, even though it means the task at hand may take twice as long
to complete.
Ask God to help you be a good daddy.

Not everyone is fortunate enough to have had a good father. If that is the case for you, that doesn’t mean that you cannot be a good father. Let God be your role model, your greatest example of who a father is and what a father does.