If You Should Go Skating...

 ...on the thin ice of modern life....-Pink Floyd

 

So I fully realize the perilous nature of ice and snow and the hazard they pose for elderly folk venturing haplessly onto such surfaces.

 

Indeed, I know of a man who broke the largest bone in the human body while fooling about in icy conditions (here's to ya Ken, heal quickly, my friend).

 

I also realize that, in addition to bodily harm, there is also the embarrassment and inconvenience of lying prone on the frozen tundra until someone comes along to help you up.

 

Having realized all that, I decided to wait until the snow and ice cleared up before taking any such tumble myself.

 

Which I did, about an hour ago while clearing away the remains of the aforementioned (and by now, extremely tiresome) ice and snow.

No worries, mates. No severe injuries except a minor scrape on the heel of my hand. Peroxide, Unguentine and a bandaid and I'm good to go.

No wounds to the pride since there were no witnesses and I sprang quickly up. That last part is a lie, by the way. 

I must admit that my conscience is very much wounded as Bro. Billy's sermon yesterday touched upon our need (much of the time?) to repent of our repentance, as feeble as it is. While I was not "dragging behind me the silent reproach of a million tear-stained eyes," I am endeavoring to be heartily sorry for the words that left my lips as my body hit the ground.

 

Pray for me.

 

 

 

Of Dogs in Heaven and Other Such Things

Wolfie has gone on to be with the LORD. That's what I think anyway: that as surely as Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes, so Wolfgang rests in the arms of Jesus. 

 

Oh sure. I can hear some of you saying, "But dogs don't have souls." Well neither do angels. 

 

And as God cares for the least of his creatures, not allowing a little sparrow to fall to the ground without his knowledge  and consent, so it is (I believe) that the new heaven and new earth will be filled with all those things of his making (dinosaurs too, maybe though they will all be herbivorous).

 

Wolfie was a fine pup, rarely ever barking but singing in the tradition of his ancestors, a mellifluous howl (if indeed you would call it howling).

He was a friend to all who made his acquaintance, barring the occasional squirrel or cat who strayed onto his territory. 

He was a handsome dog, his blue eyes putting those of Sinatra or Newman to shame. He had a fine fur coat which only gave trouble in the summer when he would molt (or whatever it is that huskies do). And even in that, the  copious quantities of white fur scattered across the back yard brought back fond memories of Arkansas' cotton fields in autumn, after the pickers had gone through.

He was a fine friend and wonderful companion and I will miss him.

 

So now, our Heavenly Father has gathered to the himself the best (by popular acclaim) biscuit maker ever, and yesterday the best (in my opinion) doggie a boy could have.

 

Paul writes that "to live is Christ and to die is gain." 

 

That leaves me to wonder what heaven might gain by my entrance there. Perhaps a nutty companion. But scripture seems to be full of that sort of guy (I'm looking at you, Jonah!). 

 

We will see. I only know I'm bound there, as I hope and pray you all are, 

Help Us...You're Our Only Hope

...if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face....-2 Chronicles 7:14a

 

Do you pray for this country? Do you know others who do? 

 What about your church? Does your congregation pray for our nation? 

There seem to be something like 350,000 church congregations in the U.S., most of them Christian.

 I wonder how many of them lift up the U.S.A. regularly during their worship?

 I want you to think about what you perceive as being this country's problems and how you (privately) and your church (corporately) bring these issues before God in prayer. 

You know what I think? I believe the Church has failed this nation.

You know what's worse? We have failed because we are asleep. 

In fact, if you believe that the Christian Church is the most important component in our society, why aren't you praying for the Church, for God to awaken her, to pour out his Spirit upon her, and that God's people begin to cry out, "Bow your heavens, O LORD, and come down!"

Or you may already be praying for that awakening. I sincerely hope so.

If not, search the phrase "Great Awakening" and see what God has done in the history of the our country.

And I wonder, if the prayer of a "righteous" individual (that's you if you have been saved by God's grace, and set aside for his service) "availeth much", how much more so will the prayers of God's saints, gathered together in prayer, avail with our Heavenly Father who promises to hear the prayers of his people?

 

Pray for the nation, yes.

But much more pray for the Church, that she become once more the leavening agent and source of light that this country so desperately needs.

 

  

The Haunted Pillow of East Vine Extended

There are stranger things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy. (apologies to Will)

Conversation:

Hey, can I have this pillow?

Don't you have any pillows at your place?

Not really.

What do you mean not really?

What do you mean what do I mean?

You either have a pillow or you don't.

Not really, I don't.

So what you are saying is that what pillows you might have are worn out and flat and all ratchety looking?

Yes.

But isn't that your mom's pillow?

No.

Well what happened to her pillow then?

I don't know!

I think it is her pillow and in that case, no, you can't have it.

Why not?

Because it is special. It's where she laid her precious little head and breathed out her last breath.

Ewww.

Which means that it's haunted!

laughs at the idiocy of this statement and the fact that we are even having this conversation

Don't say that!

Yes and you will hear a voice saying, "Whoo stole my pillow???"

makes creepy fingers gestures, moving toward her

She laughing runs toward the kitchen

No!

Now I'm laughing and chasing her with creepy fingers, The chase continues through the kitchen, into the entrance hall and back into the living room. After several rounds of the course, we finally collapse laughing.

Now I don't want the damn thing.

What? Are you scared?

Shut up.



And how are things at your house today?

It Is Well

It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we should grow too fond of it.-Robert E. Lee

So you probably thought I would open this with a nod to the beloved hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul."

But since conflict seems to be the order of the day recently, the quote from General Lee seemed more apt.

To remember, in other words, that xenophobia is the natural state of humanity since the Fall.



I offer this book as my only example; at 1524 pages, it is a mere survey of human conflict.

So, it is well to remember that we are ruled, in our natural state, by fear of the other.

It is well to remember as we encounter the behavior prompted by fear that fear is a powerful emotion, able to completely control the hearts of those afflicted by it.
 It is well to remember that in the words of our Savior and in other places in Scripture, we are counseled to "fear not."

It is well to remember that the struggle with fear is real and more difficult with some, even Christians, than others.

It is well to remember that we are counseled also in Scripture to "love our enemies and pray for those who spitefully use us."

It is well to remember that Christ met fear with love.

It is well to remember that "perfect love casts out fear" and that this refers to Jesus' perfect love not my own, though I am surely called to imitate Christ.

It is well, finally, to remember that we are redeemed in Christ, and, in spite of troubles and trials, there is a glorious future awaiting us.

What have I to fear?

It is well with my soul.

Faith of Our Fathers

Hear O sons, a father's instruction, and be attentive, that you may gain insight. -Proverbs 4:1

When he was 13 days old, my daddy's mother died.

Her father took on the task of raising him.

When my father was 10 years old, this man who had been the only father he had ever known passed away.

He told me, years later, that it felt like his world had ended.

My dad had been taught during those ten years to know who God was and that Jesus loved him and that there are such things as right and wrong. 

But I guess if you are ten years old and your world has ended that it might seem hard to believe that Jesus loves you or that right or wrong matter.

Blessedly that all changed when my father met my mother and at about the same met and came to know Jesus.

And so he spent the rest of his life teaching us what his grandfather had taught  him and what he read in the Bible.

And praying for us when we wandered down a wrong path and that we might come to know and love Jesus as he truly had.

You ever wonder what wonderful sights you will behold when you open your eyes in heaven?

I had a Christian acquaintance once tell me that he doubted that we would know one another in heaven.

What a load of baloney!

For I am very sure that my dad, upon entering the streets of heaven, met his mother for the first time.

And was reunited with his granddad.

Yankee Uncles and Other Stuff.

That's me right there in the middle. That drunk-looking little guy in the dark jacket all slouched back in his chair.

You see my cousin Jaybock peering innocently over my right shoulder? He was poking me in the back.

Ah, Frankie (that was his nickname), you were such a joker.

That's my dad over on the right in a white shirt holding Rod, so this would have been about 1961 or 2.

This was a rowdy crew and I can't believe they were all able to hold still long enough for this photo to be taken.

The Yankee uncles were loudest though the Southern guys were pretty raucous in their own right.

In fact, I cannot recall a single gathering of Tolars or Rohrscheibs (no matter the size of the gathering) where you could not hear howls of  laughter or a dull roar of conversation.

Joie de vivre, I guess you might call it.

Even funerals, though they were attended with the proper solemnity, tended to become more of a celebration of sorts after all the formalities had been attended to.

Celebration seems an odd word, doesn't it?

But you know: of family, with all the strength and comfort that brings even in the hardest of times.
Of life its own self cause dying is part of living and though our hearts are broken, we carry on.

Sort of like an Irish wake you might say but without the heavy drinking.

These thoughts come to mind because the next three summers in a row, we would gather to say goodbye to some of the young people in this picture.

And finally, on a blistering August day, Grandma Rohrscheib ( the little old lady seated at the end of the table on the left).

And that was the last of it for a while, like some weird family curse or something.

Maudlin stuff, you might say, but as I said, dying is part of living.

So celebrate, y'all. Never neglect any opportunity to gather together to love and enjoy those precious ones.

They might not be here tomorrow and we can't let fear rob us of these precious, fleeting moments.