by Greg | Apr 23, 2008 | Blog Posts
Actually I only own two acres and so having a back forty is not just impractical, it is inaccurate. My space that I am writing about is the back 48, as in 48 square feet. It all started last week when Aaron and I decided to pretend that we were farmers and built a raised bed vegetable garden. I loaded the top of my MINI with lumber to build an 8×6 bed and hauled dirt for the garden (1,250 pounds to be exact. I had to make three trips to the store loading the back of the car with fifty pound bags). Four hours, and several tomato, cucumber, squash and pepper plants later we are now farmers. Clark supplied several tomato plants that he had started from seed, so we are excited to see them grow. The work of farming is really just beginning. There is the matter of keeping the plants watered and fertilized and of course chasing squirrels, rabbits and other varmints out. We hope for a harvest by this summer, but much of the joy is in the process. I am a firm believer that everyone ought to grow something, whether it is an heirloom tomato plant or a geranium. For several years now we have been growing weeds in our lawn and to my delight I found out that the definition of a weed is any unwanted plant. By changing my outlook I now no longer have weeds – just one large, diverse collection of various grass species. Growing things is practically Biblical. In Genesis 1:28 – “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth...
by Greg | Apr 22, 2008 | Blog Posts
We had a bit of a tragedy at our home this week. When a say a “bit” I mean a very small bit. I was out the door heading to the Deacons meeting when my oldest son Clark stopped me and gave me the news that “catfish” was dead. Catfish is the fairly unoriginal name of the fish that looked like a catfish swimming in our aquarium. The fish, of course, was no longer swimming, but was – how can I put this? – belly-up dead. I assured my eldest that proper arrangements would be made but in the meantime he had to take care of the problem. While our deacon body is an empathetic gathering, I doubt the death of one of our aquarium fish would garner a prayer request let alone a visitation accompanied by the requisite casserole. When I returned that night Amy informed me that a proper funeral was held, complete with personal remarks and reflections and music. It seems that my wife sung “I’ll Flush Away” to the tune of “I’ll Fly Away” while Clark accompanied her on the mandolin. I could not make stuff like this up in our house. Aaron was no where to be seen (can you blame him?) He was either too grief-stricken, or more probably plotting a way to poison the other fish. In spite of the pall of death hovering in our household (more specifically in our septic tank; Catfish was buried with honors down the toilet) our part of the world is surrounded by life. Spring peepers are croaking during the night and birds are nesting and...
by Greg | Mar 19, 2008 | Blog Posts
Do you remember those sickly-sweet marshmallow candy eggs? I don’t know if you can still buy them, but I hope to never see another one again. As a child my home church hid these candy eggs for all the children to hunt on the Saturday before Easter. I never cared for the eggs but I have many fond memories of those egg hunts. The adults would hide the eggs all around the ample church grounds including the cemetery and then we would busy ourselves collecting them. As far as I knew, no one gave much thought to the fact of searching for eggs among the tombs. The graveyard was as much a part the Easter experience as the crowed sanctuary would be the following day. Children finding joy and pleasant surprises among the symbols of the dead are not that far removed from the first Easter morning. The disciples and the women came to the tomb expecting a dead man but were surprised with joy and life. They spent the rest of their life trying to comprehend it all. Two thousand years later we are still trying to understand. We still have the dead among us and still are surprised when new life and new hope enters in: the alcoholic finds sobriety; the unfaithful spouse finds restoration; the terminated employee is given affirmation. The stories are endless and they all point us to the “hope in the graveyard.” This Sunday we will dwell among the crowds. Most of us “think” we know what to expect. But maybe God has something for our lives that reaches beyond our expectation, beyond...
by Greg | Mar 11, 2008 | Blog Posts
There are just some journeys I would rather not take. Trips to a department store or a dentist or a parent-teacher conference do not make it to my top ten places to visit. We cannot always choose our journeys. And then there are the passages that are necessary. Holy Week is a time believers and beholders throughout the world observe not because it is attractive, alluring or even desirable. We trek through Holy Week because it is a necessary journey that Christ took and calls on us to be willing to do the same. The days of Holy Week come as the final week of Lent, immediately preceding Easter Sunday. It is this week that we are invited to focus on the “passion” or suffering and death of Jesus. To rush to the empty tomb of Easter without pondering the significance of Christ’s passion cheapens the depth of Christ’s sacrifice. Only through walking in the shadows of Holy Week can we best experience the light and hope of Resurrection morning. When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. (Luke 9:51) Holy Week begins this Sunday which is known as Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday. We recall Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem accompanied by the waving of palm branches and the gleeful shouts of children. The following Thursday is called “Maundy Thursday.” (The term Maundy comes from the Latin word mandatum (from which we get our English word mandate). It is generally translated as commandment. There are a number of themes observed or commemorated on this day including the last...
by Greg | Mar 11, 2008 | Blog Posts
Several years ago my son Aaron reminded me: “Dad remember, you promised…” Aaron was right. I had promised. I had assured both my sons that on the first day of school I would bake some homemade cinnamon rolls. My biggest problem was the fact that I had forgotten to take the starter out of the fridge Saturday night. For those of you unfamiliar with sourdough baking the starter is the yeast used to make the dough rise. To make bread with starter (including rolls) takes about thirty-six hours. Anyway, on Sunday morning I remembered my promise. So a “rush” job was in order. I called Amy at home and had her deliver the goods on her way to church that morning. Between the morning worship and the funeral I had that afternoon I was kneading dough in the break room. In the end, the rolls came out just fine on Monday morning. A promise is a promise. Honoring commitments, after all, is important in the big and small things. Baptism, for the believer, is the outward mark of an internal commitment. And for the rest of our lives we seek to honor our commitments. How are you doing? Need a little reminder, a nudge, a word of assurance? I don’t think I am overstating it when I say that the church is where we help each other honor our promises and commitments. The Old Testament word for this is “covenant.” Simply stated, it is agreement we share with God. I shall live among you; I shall be your God and you will be my people (Leviticus 26:12). God is...
Recent Comments