dual personalities

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Think about these things*

by chuckofish

The weather has been unseasonably warm and beautiful for November–blue sky, orange trees, temps in the 70s! Daughter #1 and I sat out on a lovely patio on Friday afternoon and enjoyed a glass of wine–in November! Then we drove out to Wildwood and enjoyed pizza night with the boy and his family. Lovely.

The rest of the weekend was fairly quiet. I finished a D.E. Stevenson book and watched the leaves float down. I watched the new Kevin James movie–Playdate–on Prime. I’m not saying it’s a great movie, but I enjoyed it.

A “buddy action comedy movie”, it is about two dads and their sons who are targeted by mercenaries. There is no bad language, no sex, no politics, and very little real violence. It held my interest for 90 minutes. And the first scene takes place at a lacrosse game. Why don’t they make more movies like this?

On Sunday I went to church and heard a great sermon on Philippians 4:2-9.

I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women, who have labored side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.

Think about these things. Practice these things. The Lord is near. Wow. And Wow.

My adult ed class was about the diaconate. We have 14 deacons at my church and they really walk the walk. Presbyterian polity, which was developed as a rejection of governance by hierarchies of single bishops, also differs from the congregational polity in which each congregation is independent. In contrast to the other two forms, authority in the presbyterian polity flows both from the top down (as higher assemblies exercise limited but important authority over individual congregations, e.g., only the presbytery can ordain ministers, install pastors, and start up, close, and approve relocating a congregation) and from the bottom up (e.g., the moderator and officers are not appointed from above but are rather elected by and from among the members of the assembly). Brilliant. This theory of governance was developed in Geneva under John Calvin and was introduced to Scotland by John Knox. Presbyterians view this method of government as approximating that of the New Testament and earliest churches. In our church, deacons exercise responsibility for practical matters of the building and grounds and administer the welfare matters of the congregation. Members who are in need are helped by the deacons. These men are the faith in action team.

And here’s a word from Anne about irony.

Meanwhile, on the prairie…

Have a good week! Enjoy the beautiful fall weather. Read a book. Thank a deacon. Smile. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. 

The Lord is near to all who call on him,
    to all who call on him in truth.

–Psalm 145:18

You have to laugh.

by chuckofish

We had a productive time in Illinois earlier this week. I successfully painted the trim and vanity in Susie’s powder room without destroying anything and hopefully the wallpaper man will respond to her texts soon!

Ahead of the trip, I decided that for future visits when I bring Mr. Smith, I should really find somewhere to board him or doggy daycare so that he gets some activity. With that in mind, I called the one place in town. They require a temperament evaluation–which on the one hand I understand and on the other made me laugh. In order to get one, I first had to get him a vaccine that he doesn’t already have for some reason. Yes, the process was basically as complicated as registering him for kindergarten.

No surprise, he passed the temperament evaluation with flying colors. Also, there is a Westie at the daycare named Winston Smith. And this has already caused confusion when trying to schedule his daycare days. How is this my life?! You have to laugh.

In other exciting (read not) news, I am traveling to Wyoming next week to give two separate press tours of the mine. I ordered a new parka and will bring my steel-toed boots. I will also find my hat, gloves, a scarf, and some big socks. I will no doubt be channeling the little brother in A Christmas Story.

And enjoy these memes I found saved in my screenshots folder.

Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes*

by chuckofish

The boy texted me this photo of the Northern Lights taken in his neighborhood the other night. I rushed outside but nothing was visible at my house. Pretty cool, I must say.

You may recall that November 13, 1833 was the “the night the stars fell.” This phenomenal event, one of the greatest meteoric displays on record, was viewed with awe and a degree of superstitious respect across the country. The Missouri Republican reported: “The air was filled with brilliant and innumerable meteors, shooting lawless through the sky, illuminating the earth, ad then passing off to the West.” Many thought the event was the fulfillment of the Scriptures, “when portents shall come of wars and rumors of wars.” Near Independence, Missouri, in Clay County, a refugee Mormon community watched the meteor shower on the banks of the Missouri River after having been driven from their homes by local settlers. Joseph Smith, the leader and founder of Mormonism, afterwards noted in his journal for November 1833 his belief that this event was “a litteral [sic] fulfillment of the word of God” and a harbinger of the imminent second coming of Christ.

A Missouri journalist later recounted the story of how the meteoric shower had restored freedom to a captive black whom a group of farmers had kidnapped. They were awaiting a steamboat to ship the man to a slave trader when the meteor display made the trees and even the river seem to be on fire. The farmers thought that Judgment Day had caught them in the dishonorable act of “running south” a free black man. They let him go. Praise the Lord!

(The Meteor of 1860 by Frederic Edwin Church) Imagine a thousand times that!

P.S. All the leaves have turned very fast!

And from the Ida files…

*John 4:35

Lest we forget

by chuckofish

Happy belated Veterans Day!

I watched The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)–one of the best movies about veterans ever made and well worth watching almost 80 years later.

Over a million American service members have laid down their lives for the country, and their sacrifice will never be forgotten. Here’s one veteran’s story.

Postcards from the prairie

by chuckofish

We have been busy with a couple of ‘home improvement’ projects…Applause for daughter #1 who took two days off to help do most of the work!

(That’s a changing table for downstairs.)

Mr. Smith was a good boy.

We head back today. It is supposed to warm back up later this week, and I hope that’s true. I was not prepared for snow and frigid temps!

So I’ll make my stand and remain as I am

by chuckofish

The other day I mentioned the story of Billy Graham going to see the dying Steve McQueen and that truly is a great story. But the even better part of all that was how the flight instructor over time converted the questioning Steve into a “born again” Christian. I know quite a few people like that flight instructor now–“ordinary” men who take Mark 16:15 very seriously in their daily lives. One such guy is Bill who was an executive at some big engineering firm. He is a piano-tuner now (in retirement) and he evangelizes quietly everywhere he goes, just talking to people. He is not ashamed of the Gospel. No sir. He sees it as his duty to spread the Word.

The Billy Grahams of this world are wonderful, but it is the Bills among us who do the real work where the rubber meets the actual road.

This is a wonderful message from John Piper on Eight Ways to Live Out Your Assurance.

And here’s a song for Monday–the great Mark Knopfler singing the great Bob Dylan:

Oh, a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract and bother me
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face
And the dust of rumors covers me

[Chorus]
But if the arrow is straight and the point is slick
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick
So I’ll make my stand and remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn

(Meanwhile we made it to the prairie–where it has turned cold and even snowy!–and we went to church where daughter #2 and the girls became members along with a dozen others.)

We are surrounded by God’s benefits. The best use of these benefits is an unceasing expression of gratitude.
–John Calvin

How’s it goin’?

by chuckofish

It’s Friday again–can you believe it?

Daughter #1 and I are heading up to the prairie again on Saturday so that we can go to church with daughter #2. She and the girls are officially joining along with other new members. I’m really looking forward to this and attending what Ida refers to as, the “Hallelujah Church”. I am so thankful they have found a church where the Word of God is its foundation. Hallelujah, indeed.

Today we remember Steve McQueen who died on this day in 1980. You will recall that Steve met with Billy Graham a few days prior to his death. The year before he had gotten to know pilot Sammy Mason when he was teaching Steve to fly. He noticed something authentic and genuine about the pilot and his close-knit family. Mason was able to explain that a personal relationship with Jesus Christ had made the difference in his life. Steve started showing up at Mason’s church, the Ventura Missionary Baptist Church, which he eventually joined, and reading scripture with the pastor and Mason. Eleven months later He was diagnosed with cancer. Hearing that Billy Graham was in California, he reached out to the evangelist for a possible meeting. Graham spent some time with Steve and drove with him to the airport before being flown to a hospital in Mexico. Steve shared his story with Graham. Having misplaced his Bible, Graham inscribed his own Bible and gave it to Steve before they prayed together. Four days later, Steve was found with Billy’s Bible cradled on his chest. He had died in his sleep. Praise the Lord.

It is the season when we are especially tuned into thankfulness and this article talks about prioritizing gratitude, especially in today’s culture. “A life of gratitude is especially difficult in a culture such as ours that exalts the proud, despises humility, and enthrones self as the highest authority. In a world consumed by indifference and lack of appreciation, Christians can engage in a moment-by-moment protest of thankfulness. Persistent gratitude will set us apart from the world, making us salty to a self-indulgent culture (Matt. 5:13).”

Happy Friday! Happy weekend!

Forget the ink, the milk, the blood—all was washed clean with the flood

by chuckofish

Well, as soon as I said the leaves had not changed much, they started turning! We are supposed to have a cold snap this weekend, so I finished cleaning out the Florida room and moved the rest of the plants. Sadly, we did not use it much this year.

Anyway, I was talking to the boy the other day and he reminded me that I left out two very significant scenes in famous rainy movies. I was semi-horrified that I had, indeed, forgotten:

John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara in The Quiet Man (1951)…

and Robert Redford knocking the cover off the ball in The Natural (1984)…

Wonderful. But what else did I forget?

Oh, here’s a poem by Don Paterson about rain in movies!

I love all films that start with rain:
rain, braiding a windowpane
or darkening a hung-out dress
or streaming down her upturned face;

one long thundering downpour
right through the empty script and score
before the act, before the blame,
before the lens pulls through the frame

to where the woman sits alone
beside a silent telephone
or the dress lies ruined on the grass
or the girl walks off the overpass,

and all things flow out from that source
along their fatal watercourse.
However bad or overlong
such a film can do no wrong,

so when his native twang shows through
or when the boom dips into view
or when her speech starts to betray
its adaptation from the play,

forget the ink, the milk, the blood—
all was washed clean with the flood
we rose up from the falling waters
the fallen rain’s own sons and daughters

and none of this, none of this matters.

Smile, look up, repeat.

Come on in, the door is open

by chuckofish

Daughter #2 sent this pic of her street in response to my post yesterday about not much color yet in my flyover neck of the woods. The prairie is ablaze!

Here are two articles about growing older which I found to be very interesting. “This is a plea for aging Christians not to follow millions of your peers in making a tragic mistake: leaving the place, and especially the local church, where you have built up years, if not decades, of relational capital.” In other words, Boomers need to stay put. Retirement ought not be exclusively about playing golf and collecting seashells. “For decades, you’ve been amassing wisdom and experience and patience and perspective. Now, on the other side of a career, you’re finally free to share those riches with others. There are younger men and women in the throes of their early careers, new fathers and mothers insecure in their parenting, teens eager to grow up but unsure how — all in desperate need of your rooted presence.” I think of 80-something John who goes out to lunch with my son and mentors him on his spiritual walk. I think of Allan who keeps the furnace going and the grass cut at the church he has attended his whole life. I think of all the old ladies in my bible study group who pray without ceasing for us all.

(This meme never gets old.)

And in this one Carl Trueman talks about assisted suicide and the disturbing modern vision of what it means to be human. “We might even say that it represents a dehumanized and absurd view of what it means to be human. Our dependence upon others, and our obligations towards them, are what define us. The richest experiences in life arise in those contexts where we are not isolated individuals or lonely egos wandering aimlessly through this world. Love, friendship, kindnesses done, and kindnesses received are not inconveniences but elements of the very fabric of life.”

Go to church! Make some new friends. Share what you know. Learn about Jesus. His arms are open.

And this is for anyone who might need to hear it again:

My times are in your hand*

by chuckofish

The maple tree leaves have turned in our neck of the woods, but the oak trees are just starting. We had a serious drought and there are consequences.

Leaf blowers have not really started yet–it will no doubt be a noisy Advent. C’est la vie.

This is a good explanation of why the leaves turn in the fall and “the colors of autumn fill the earth with a special beauty that reflects the artistry and creative power of God” from the John 10:10 Project.

And one last…

Here’s good news: In celebration of his birth centennial, TCM will honor Rock Hudson with a month-long tribute every Tuesday in November. He’s the Star of the Month! So check out the schedule on Tuesday nights.

Today we also celebrate the birth of Augustus Montague Toplady, Anglican cleric and hymn writer, in 1740. He is best remembered as the author of the hymn Rock of Ages, which we sing quite frequently at my church.

(He was as handsome as Rock Hudson!)

Toplady, we are told, underwent a religious awakening in August 1755. In his own diary, he wrote “I was awakened in the month of August, 1755, but not, as has been falsely reported, under Mr. John Wesley, or any preacher connected with him. Thought awakened in 1755. I was not led into a full and clear view of all the doctrines of grace, till the year 1758, when, through the great goodness of God, my Arminian prejudices received an effectual shock, in reading Dr. Manton’s Sermons on the 17th of St. John”. A man after my own heart.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
simply to the cross I cling;
naked, come to thee for dress;
helpless, look to thee for grace;
foul, I to the fountain fly;
wash me, Savior, or I die.

Have a good Tuesday!

*Psalm 31:15