We all have those moments that we need to remember.  Those times that we can laugh about for a long time, those things that can make you smile and help you make it through a tough day or time in your life. 

 I had one of those recently.  It was just a normal morning being brought out of a night’s sleep from the bells of the alarm on my iPhone.  I went through the steps: turn on light in living room, put cartoons on the TV, wake up my son, place his clothes on the edge of his bed, go make the coffee, fix his breakfast, etc.

 Then out the door to the car on time, and to the bus stop a few minutes early. We started playing with the music on the CD in the player.  This is where the moment to remember started.  As we began to dance and sing and act a little goofy, we became completely oblivious to everything else around us – including the bus pulling up, loading up kids and pulling away.  It was only when I noticed our neighbors’ cars pulling out to go around us that I saw the bus driving off in the distance.  My son and I stopped dancing, looked up the street at the bus (that he was supposed to be on) glanced back at each other, slung our heads back laughing and started dancing again to the music of DJ Maj.

 “Oh, well,” were the next words from my mouth, and then I drove off to take him to school. 

 These are the moments to remember.  It is these types moments that both my kids seem to recall the most.  It’s the small, unexpected and unplanned moments. 

 Don’t overlook the small things or you’ll miss them and you’ll never have the opportunity to get them back!

This is a story that was sent to me by way of an email the other day.  As I began to read it, I wondered (not to this extreme) just how many churches had something like this happen in them this past Sunday morning. Not making any bones about it; it really comes down to, “I am much better than the next guy.  I am in a better place and I, and I, and I, and I…!” 

But the LORD said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God [sees] not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” I Samuel 16:7 (NAS)

It’s not our job to take a look at someone else and make a judgment of the worth or value of that person.  God has called us to love, and in that love show His grace and mercy; which we so quickly forget, and that He Himself showed to us. 

Why is it that we find it so easy to point out the flaws in others but are seemingly oblivious to our own?   I remember in a movie called “Matthew” a depiction of a laughing Jesus, not the stale, I don’t know why anyone would want to follow me Jesus. He was teaching this in a scene:

3. “And why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 4. “Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? 5. “You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye. Matthew 7:3-5 (NAS)

I remember it well because of how it was depicted.  As Jesus, played by Bruce Marchiano, was teaching the crowd of people, he turned away and he bent over at the waist then spun back around holding a long staff as if it were protruding out of his eye.  This made for a great visual for me as to how ridiculous I must look when I am being critical of others.

 

Shoes In Church

 

I showered and shaved. I adjusted my tie.

I got there and sat, in a pew just in time.

Bowing my head in prayer as I closed my eyes,

I saw the shoe of the man next to me touching my own. I sighed.

  

With plenty of room on either side, I thought, ‘Why must our soles touch?’

It bothered me, his shoe touching mine, but it didn’t bother him much.

A prayer began: “Our Father.” I thought, “This man with the shoes has no pride.

They’re dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse, there are holes on the side!”

 

“Thank You for blessings” the prayer went on.

The shoe man said a quiet, “Amen.”

I tried to focus on the prayer, but my thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren’t we supposed to look our best when walking through that door?

 

“Well, this certainly isn’t it,” I thought, glancing toward the floor.

Then the prayer was ended and the songs of praise began.

The shoe man was certainly loud sounding proud as he sang.

His voice lifted the rafters; his hands were raised high.

 

The Lord could surely hear The Shoe Man’s voice from the sky.

It was time for the offering and what I threw in was steep.

I watched as The Shoe Man reached into his pockets so deep.

I saw what was pulled out; what the shoe man put in.

 

Then I heard a soft “clink” as when silver hits tin.

The sermon really bored me to tears, and that’s no lie.

It was the same for the shoe man for tears fell from his eyes.

At the end of the service as is the custom here.

 

We must greet new visitors, and show them all good cheer.

But I felt moved somehow and wanted to meet The Shoe Man.

So after the closing prayer I reached over and shook his hand.

He was old and his skin was dark, and his hair was truly a mess.

 

But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest.

He said, “My names’ Charlie. I’m glad to meet you, my friend.”

There were tears in his eyes, but he had a large, wide grin.

“Let me explain,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

 

“I’ve been coming here for months, and you’re the first to say hi.”

I know that my appearance is not like all the rest.

But I really do try to always look my best.

I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk.

But by the time I get here they’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.”

 

My heart filled with pain, and I swallowed to hide my tears.

As he continued to apologize for daring to sit so near

He said, “When I get here I know I must look a sight.

But I thought if I could touch you, then maybe our souls might unite.”

 

I was silent for a moment knowing whatever was said

Would pale in comparison, so I spoke from my heart not my head.

“’Oh, you’ve touched me,” I said, “and taught me, in part;

That the best of any man is what is found in his heart.”

 

The rest, I thought, this shoe man will never know.

Like just how thankful I really am that his dirty old shoe touched my soul.

 

How lovely on the mountains Are the feet of him who brings good news, Who announces peace And brings good news of happiness, Who announces salvation, [And] says to Zion, “Your God reigns!” Isaiah 52:7 (NAS)

 

 Something that we all so easily forget that I was reminded of just the other day by a very close friend, “people are important.”  With that we can all remind ourselves what we like to teach children but neglect to remember as adults, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you!”

The other day a fight attendant with Southwest Airlines began boarding the families with children first.  After they were boarded and seated, the attendant asked the four oldest children, “Do you want to help pass out the peanuts?” 

 After boarding the rest of the people on the flight, the flight attendant took four packs of peanuts wrote the children’s names on them and placed them in the aisle.  He said, “We are going to have a race. If the pack of peanuts with your name on it makes it to the end of the aisle first, you win and you get to help pass out the peanuts.” 

 As the plane raced to the end of the runway and began to take off into the sky, the people started cheering for the children and their packs of racing peanuts. Once the plane leveled out and the first pack reached the end of the aisle, the attendant picked up the winning pack and called out the child’s name and said, “You get to pass out the peanuts!”

 Everyone on the plane cheered for the girl that won.  Then the attendant said, “But wait, I actually need four helpers, so all of you get to pass out peanuts!”

 I heard this story from a man that was on this Southwest Airlines flight, and he witnessed this event first hand.  I hope this attendant was commended for their creativity and ability to make the passengers flight enjoyable.  I hear they are a fun company to work for!  

  

 

No matter how many times I have seen Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, it still kind of creeps me out when he looks down from the top of the sandy, archeological dig to see the floor moving and says, “Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?”   

 

Over the years I have had a few different encounters with, what a friend called, “ol’ no shoulders”.  I grew up hearing from my dad’s dad, who I called Dandy, “The only good snake is a dead snake.” And I must say that I agree. On countless occasions as we would be fishing back in the slue, where my Grandparents lived in Riverside, Alabama, it never failed that we would have a run in or two, or three with water moccasins.  Dandy would run up to the house and get his single shot, 16 gauge, Steven’s shotgun, and he would come back down and take care of business.  The funny thing is we would swim all the time in that lake and never really thought anything about it, until we saw one swimming our way.

 

I could tell about the time that I almost stepped on a black snake while I was hunting, or the time I was trout fishing on the Hiawassee River, and a water snake swam right by me.  Then there was the coral snake I saw from a distance, which was just fine with me and also the four foot moccasin coiled up behind our AC unit in Birmingham.  Oh, and I can’t forget the one that came out of the hole in the old black inner tube, that I was sitting on, while I was turkey hunting with my friend Dave one year. 

 

Which leads me to my latest meeting with “ol’ no shoulders”. We have recently been doing some work in our backyard, and as the weather and time has allowed, I have been doing the work little bit by little bit.  Anyway, I had done some prep work with a hard rake that I had purchased from Home Depot.  After I had finished readying the ground, I proceeded to spread winter rye seed out over the back and side yard.  Then came the time to unload and cover the new seed with wheat straw.  After placing the bales out across the yard, I began to bust them open and spread them out.  I had made my way through 3 bails and was halfway through the 4th when I heard something that, at first, I decided to ignore.  After hearing it for about the 5th time, and passing it off as a very loud cricket or katydid, I reached back for the next hand full of straw a little bit slower and somewhat cautious.

 

That was when it hit me!  Literally, a foot and a half long rattler hit my hand!  Needless to say it didn’t take me long to sling the straw away from under my arm.  I saw him trying to sneak away under the straw that had already been spread on the ground.  I ran over and grabbed his tail and flung him to the other side of the yard!  Grabbing my hard rake I ran over to him and proceeded to try to hit kill him.  In the midst of the excitement I had the rake prongs down and despite my repeated attempts to get him, I never managed to kill him, and he slithered up the hill towards my neighbor’s yard. 

 

Realizing that I was not going to get him, I remembered that my hand had been struck.  I looked down very quickly and discovered that the snake had not managed to bite me. It just, well, it scared the daylights out of me. 

 

Even though I have had many encounters with “ol’ no shoulders”, yet again, I have been fortunate to NOT be bitten.  There were, however, two lessons learned from this meeting. First, turn the hard rake over when trying to kill a snake and second, check the straw bales for snakes before you start spreading it!       

 

I know this is going to seem a bit odd, but I am going to share something with you that received a good bit of attention after I posted a video about it on Facebook a few days ago. 

 I was in my office on Friday morning and wanted something sweet; some candy sounded good.  One of the ladies in our office always keeps a basket on the corner of her desk full of candy with a plethora of choices.  One of the things that are always in the basket is the miniature rolls of Sweetarts.  You know the ones that kind of look like Smarties. 

 I went across the hallway into the main office and grabbed myself a couple of packs.  I unrolled them and sat them next to my computer and began to eat them in twos as I always do.  Now before you think of me as strange, I have watched many different people as they eat their personal favorites, such as, M&M’s – Skittles – Smarties. They eat them in twos, threes, by colors, well you get the point.

 So, I was eating my Sweetarts, two by two, when I discovered there was an odd number in the pack; thirteen to be exact.  Not that thirteen is a bad number, because if you remember from one of my earlier posts, thirteen is my favorite number. 

 I went and looked at the other packs and they all have thirteen!  Why?  Why, thirteen?  This affects my eating them in twos, and leaves me with a difficult decision.  Do I eat the last one by itself, or do I toss it in the trash, to be alone, outcast, and humiliated?  The odd tart out, never able to bring the joy of its sweet – tartness to me or anyone else.

 I posted this as a video on Facebook, and let’s just say a lot of sarcasm followed.  I do have to admit it does seem a bit silly, ok stupid, but I still have to ask, WHY?   If anyone reading this post can supply the answer as to why thirteen Sweetarts, I would love to know.  Or if you can share with me how to get in touch with the Willy Wonka Candy Company, or Willy Wonka himself, I will gladly ask myself. 

I was walking down Music Row the other night in Nashville, TN. One of my Youth Leaders and I, while at a Youth Specialties Conference, decided that we wanted a quick bite to eat.  As we were looking around at all of the places to eat, we noticed the busy lines at many of the restaurants.  Then there it was a rolling Hotdog stand, with no line.  Now, I know you might think that should have been our first clue, but oh well.  As the first order was placed, the question was asked, “What about chili?” At which point we were told, “I am not allowed to sale anything with meat in it.”  Before I continue, this should have been our second clue, that we should have stayed away.  At this point we asked, “But isn’t a hotdog…” We were quickly interrupted, and somewhat sarcastically answered, “Look do you really want me to explain it or, do you just want the mustard?”  This should have been our third and final clue to run far away.  So with all this in mind, if there is presumably meat in chili, what then can we assume was in the hotdog?  I will leave you with that to ponder on your own, and consider the next time you bite into a nice, juicy dog!

While doing homework with my son the other day we had to pick a book, read it, and complete a very simple book report.  After deciding on which book to read we started our way through its pages, I began to realize that the book that we had chosen was a bit longer than I thought.  It was somewhat longer than it really needed to be for the type of report he was doing.  We continued to make our way through, as I noticed it was not just my son’s attention span that was failing.  I had reached the point of, battling, staying with the story and not allowing my mind to go elsewhere.  He was beginning to wiggle, squirm, get the fidgets and so on.  You know the things that first grade boys do naturally. 

At this point he stopped. Then started to look ahead and count the number of pages he, well we, had left to read.  I told him he had done a great job and I would take over for the last few pages. I began to read as we made our way to the last two pages he said, “wait”!  He took the book back and placed it in front of him, he read the last two pages.  He closed the book turned to me with a very big smile and said, “see dad, if you just keep going you’ll eventually get to the end”.  I smiled back and said, “yep son your right, we just got to keep on going”. 

I thought to myself later that night, if we could just have that mind set about so many different things we all would be a lot better off!       

A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird’s mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity.  John tried and tried to change the bird’s attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of to “clean up” the bird’s vocabulary.

 

Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even more rude. John, in desperation, threw up his hand, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked, kicked and screamed.   Then suddenly there was total quiet.  Not a “PEEP”, was heard for over a minute.

Fearing that he’d hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer.  The parrot calmly stepped out onto John’s outstretched arms and said “I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions.  I’m sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior.  I am truly sorry.”

John, stunned at the change in attitude.  Just as he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, “May I ask, what the turkey did?”

 HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

 

 

 

I somewhat remember going to the car wash as a kid.  My mother has told me that, like most kids, I did not like it.  Ok, ok, I was scared of it.  And, just like myself, I am sure many other kids grew up being scared of the car wash.  Let’s face it, despite what you were told as a child or what you have told your own children to comfort them as you passed through a car wash, we can all admit that it can be a little overwhelming and scary.

 

I was taking my truck through the car wash a few days ago, due to the fact that it had been a while since it had been cleaned. My little princess was with me for the day and we were out running errands.  As we pulled into the line of the “wash car” as she puts it, she said, “Dad, I do not like the wash car.” 

 

I was in the process of paying with the interactive video screen, and I could see that her tears were in the process of welling up in her eyes.  Despite my efforts to come up with a good distraction to keep her mind from what was about to happen, the sweet, gentle tears started to flow down her face. 

 

Just as we were about to enter into the spooky tunnel, my little princess said, “I think I might be ok if I could come sit with my daddy.”  I told her to undo her seat belt and climb up into my lap.  She took my arms and put them around her and in we went.  I told her to pretend that is was like big pieces of red and black spaghetti.  I encouraged her as I began to try to grab and eat it because it was almost lunch time and I was hungry.  Then came the water spraying to rinse off the soap, she decided this was just a big shower for cars and trucks, but almost too loud.  At this point, the “big air” began to dry us off.  I thought, “Oh well, here we go, because it was really loud.  As the air started to hit the truck, she said. “It is a big hair dryer, like when mommy dries mine.”

 

As we made our way out she said, “Dad, I am glad you let me sit up here with you. I know I am safe when I am with you.”

In order for you to understand why I gave a lady working at D&D a bouncy ball, you need to go read this. It’s ok. I’ll wait.

 

Ok, welcome back and now that we are all on the same page, let me just tell you that I have never laughed so hard in my life when the following happened. 

 

I had stopped by Dunkin’ Donuts and, as I normally do, I placed my order for a medium cup of coffee with double cream. The lady behind the counter was not smiling and did not look very happy.  I asked her if she was having a rough day and she simply said no, that it had been a long day and that she really needed something to make her smile.  Naturally, I took the opportunity to pull the bouncy ball from my pocket that was waiting there for its turn to bring joy into someone’s life. I opened up my hand to show her the bouncy ball and proceeded to share my brief story about the joy that this ½ inch ball could bring and how God wants our joy to be full in Him.  I told her that Jesus loved her and handed her the bouncy ball. 

 

At that moment something happened that had never happened before, at least in front of me, and especially in an establishment like the one I was standing in.  

 

Before I go any further let me add few other details to the scene. There was another lady, who was a customer, standing beside me and she wasn’t smiling and she was visibly impatient as she waited on her order that she had placed with another employee. Let’s just say I probably needed another ball for her as well because she wasn’t in the best of moods.

 

Once I had handed the bouncy ball over to the D&D employee she took a moment to inspect it, she smiled and said thank you. This is where the humor / horror began. 

 

She bounced it. 

 

She was suddenly so overtaken with the joy and exhilaration (ok exhilaration may be a bit of a stretch) of being the recipient of this multi-colored, sphere of energy, that she released it with a substantial amount of force to the floor.  As it traveled downward to the floor it managed to make contact with the uneven grouted edge of the tiled, and began returning at a much higher rate of speed than it had traveled down. 

 

Now, I know it doesn’t sound too bad at this point, but here is where things got started to get out of control and I knew I was going to have to hold back from laughing uncontrollably.  Remember the lady standing beside me that was waiting impatiently for her order? Well, the ball was headed straight for her face, and at that very second everything went into slow motion.  

 

The D&D lady shot out over the counter like a bullet and nabbed the multi-colored sphere of energy just before it could hit the impatient lady who was waiting on her coffee and donuts. The D&D lady said, “I am so sorry, but wasn’t that awesome. I caught it before it hit you!” 

 

I was doing my very best to hold in the laughter that was desperately trying to escape. I turned, and with a school boy grin on my face that said, “I haven’t done anything wrong,” I said, “Wow, that was close. I am glad it didn’t hit you.”

 

Then, the impatient lady who had been waiting on her order, picked up her coffee and donuts and turned to exit the store. Before she left, she turned, winked and smiled at me and said, “Have a wonderful day.”

 

So what did I do?  I did just as she suggested. I took my coffee went and sat down, took a sip, read my book and had a wonderful day.  I hope, also, that the impatient lady who had to wait on her coffee and donuts and almost got smacked in the face by a brightly colored bouncy ball was able to sit back later have a chuckle over the whole deal and have a wonderful day. 

 

Because you know life is way too short to be upset about almost being taken out by a multicolored sphere of rubber bouncy ball energy.