A QUICK LOOK OVER MY SHOULDER

Have you ever driven a car without a rear-view mirror?  If you do, you will find yourself continually looking toward that spot but feeling frustration that the ability to see behind you is not available!  We tend to minimize the importance of seeing where we've been.  We attribute the phrase, "the unexamined life is not worth living", to Socrates.  Have you ever paused long enough to think about his suggestion?

You can choose any time to review and evaluate your life. However, for whatever reasons, most of us rarely exercise this practice. The ending of a year seems a natural time for me to take a look over my shoulder.

2017 was a year that frequently popped up on my life-screen over the decades. When I began my work-life, it was predetermined to be the year of my retirement.  I often joked about this because all through the years, it was also predicted to be the first year that the Social Security Department would not have appropriate funding to meet the needs of all the retiring baby-boomers.  I haven't really heard how that's working out, but so far my checks have been deposited on time...

Actually, retirement was never a goal for me.  I know that some look forward to it and plan for it with great enthusiasm;  I just wasn't one of those people. But, as 2017 drew near, I had a sense that the time for me to step aside was arriving.  I've discussed that process before and won't go into it again here.

Anyway, I stepped out of the flow of active ministry at the end of May.  That sets 2017 apart in a significant way.  Needless to say, life has changed in many ways as a result.

My life and thoughts are no longer oriented toward the development of church leaders and church life.  I have literally spent the summer and fall working around our new home:

• landscaping
• putting a yard in
• finishing a garage
• sorting through boxes that haven't been unpacked since leaving for China in 2012
• and sorting through my personal library

We've had the freedom to make more frequent trips to Connecticut to see our grandchildren.  We spent a relaxing week in Banner Elk, North Carolina.  But, by-and-large, we've spent the vast majority of our time at home - working. Debbie continues to cooperate with her siblings in the care of her mother;  as a result, I'm left to my own devices (for 24-hour periods) with a certain degree of predictability.  

Our greatest challenge has been adjusting to and learning to live within the boundaries of our new financial picture!  

Some reading this might think:  "Wow!  Hal's got it made!  He must be really happy now!"  However, that is not necessarily true.  2017 has not been what I would describe as a banner year.  For those who have stayed with me this far, let me try to explain why.

First, (please don't groan when you read this) our loss of Travis (two years ago) effects us globally!  Although we don't talk about it every day, the loss of our son is a drag on our emotions and has dulled us in many ways.  I won't be-labor this point;  I will simply say that any family that has lost a child has had their lives indelibly changed!

Second, I have lost a sense of purpose that kept me focused and hopeful.  I am a driven person!  I have lived with great expectations.  I work hard to achieve goals.  I love to motivate people and move them collectively toward a new future!  This has captivated me for four decades!  Now, it is gone.

I am not surprised by this reality.  I had read a number of books to prepare myself for retirement.  I did not make this major move with a blindfold on.  I knew that working around our new home would become my new focus through the fall.  I also knew that preparing to hike the Appalachian Trail (in 2018) would give me a winter focal point.  Yet still, something is different - or missing...

Those who are wiser than me may quickly discern what it is.  It's taking me some time to decipher.  Here's what I'm coming up with:

I have moved from a ministry-centered life to a self-centered life!  My contact with people and my investment in others has shriveled over the last seven months!  I've moved from impacting people and directing the dreams of a congregation to moving dirt, planting shrubs and tinkering in my garage or barn.  And next, I'm about to embark on a self-absorbed backpacking trip that will consume (if I'm able to do it) half of 2018.

The world's thinking is that self-absorption should produce great satisfaction and pleasure - right?  Wrong!  When we withdraw to "do our own thing", the key word is WITHDRAW!  Our lives have the greatest value and satisfaction when we integrate with others and engage with our world!  I knew this.  I know this.

We stand at the outset of a new year.  We are free people and live in a free nation.  We can choose how we will deploy ourselves in 2018.

I still plan on fulfilling my dream and putting my feet on the AT in early March!  Keep in mind that nearly 4,000 began this attempt in 2017;  just over 600 actually completed it.  It's a VERY social trail!  All parts of the trail are populated with section hikers and day hikers as well as thru hikers!  I will not be alone during this trek!

But this still leaves some questions:

• Will I be purposeful in my AT adventure?
• How will I regain a sense of purpose and direction upon my return?
• How can I fulfill my role as a servant of Christ in this new phase of life?
• How will I use my influence to impact the lives of others?  
• How will I avoid the perils of self-absorbtion?  

When I was a teenager, our youth director suggested that I sing my first solo one Sunday night.  Martha Smeltzer worked patiently with me, helping me to prepare my musical gift.  I sang these words:

Only one life to offer 

Jesus my Lord and King 

Only one tongue to praise Thee 

And of Thy mercy sing (forever) 

Only one heart's devotion 

Savior,  O may it be consecrated 

Alone to Thy matchless glory 

Yielded fully to Thee

Only one life to offer 

Take it dear Lord I pray 

Nothing from Thee withholding 

Thy will I now obey (my Jesus) 

Thou who hast freely given 

Thine all in all for me 

Claim this life for Thine own to be used 

My Savior ev'ry moment for Thee

Fifty years later, I still want it to be the cry of my heart!  How about you?

MEMORABLE CHRISTMAS GIFTS

Well, there was the year I got my walkie-talkie's!  But, you know, after you've asked and answered:

• "Hi - over"
• "Where are you? - over"
• "What are you doing? - over"
• "What did you get for Christmas? - over"

...with every member of your family (Dad, Mom and Beverly), it sort of loses its luster.

Then, there was the year I got a red, 3-speed, English racer.  It's sort of torture to get a brand new bike on Christmas day when its 12 degrees outside with over a foot of snow!  There's only so much pleasure you can get from standing and looking at your new bike!

My parents were really good to me!  Over and over, for seventeen years, they overwhelmed me with an abundance of nice things.  Then, after opening them. they would put me in the car so we could go and visit my Aunt Sylvie and Uncle Ernie;  and then my Aunt Peg and Uncle Dave;  and then my Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Lester - where my Grandma Haire also lived.  By the time we got back home it was too late to play with any of my new stuff!  

Once I became a Dad, the game changed and Debbie and I got the fun of giving surprises.  I remember the year Troy asked for a new pair of tennis shoes;  he was eight.  He said, "They haffa say L. A. Gear!"  So, I got an old pair of his sneakers and painted L. A. Gear on them with red paint.  When he unwrapped them, he failed to see the humor and threw them on the floor!  [He did get the new shoes a little later.]

Then there was the exciting year when we got the kids a puppy.  One of the last gifts was a note that sent them to the basement, where they found a pound puppy.  She was a collie/husky mix and was a couple of months old.  They were THRILLED!  Keeto was the greatest pet and livened our home for quite a few years.  When we would let her loose, she would bolt around the yard so fast!  She knew how to fly past Troy and Tracie and bump them just enough to knock them down - they would get so angry with her over that!

One year, I was purchasing some backpacking gear and saw some 'mummy' sleeping bags at a greatly reduced price.  I bought three of them, wrapped them and hid them behind the couch until Christmas day.  When all the other gifts had been opened and we had enjoyed our Christmas lunch - I remembered them.  When the kids opened them, it was instant love!  They spent the next week in those bags playing games and swinging one another around on the hardwood floors!  

Oh, and there were more than a couple of years when the kids played more with a cardboard box than they did with any of their gifts!  

I remember the year when my Dad bought me a video camera!  They were a pretty new thing at the time and I knew he had spent nearly $1,000 on it!  We used it for years before video cameras became more commonplace.  As a result, we have a stock of valuable videos of Christmases and other family events!  I wonder if Dad realized the impact his generous gift was going to have?

I struggle every year with the pressure to give obligatory gifts.  Like many of you, I love to give gifts and get far more excited about giving gifts than receiving them.  When we pack our Samaritan Ministries Christmas boxes, we try to imagine the joy that will be expressed when those boxes are opened somewhere far away by a child who has so little!  That simple thought brings a happy tear to my eyes.  

Reality is:  gifts can, indeed, have a memorable impact!  Especially when they're given with love and creativity!  

Imagine the impact of the gift of gold as Joseph and Mary had to flee to Egypt for several years.  We know the symbolism of the other gifts of the magi, too!  

By the way, if you want a real blessing and a reminder of the value of precious gifts, get online and read O. Henry's The Gift of the Magi.  What a powerful reminder of the impact of a gift given in love!  It's one of my favorite stories!  Consider it my gift to you this wonderful, sacred, Christmas season!  

THE FIRST TRIP TO BETHLEHEM

Once upon a time—way back when the country of Israel was being led by judges— there was a famine in the Middle East. A man from Bethlehem (named Elimelech) left his home and moved to the country of Moab where there was food.  He took his wife, Naomi, and their two sons.

Not long after arriving in Moab, Elimelech died!  When the sons matured, they married Moabite women.  But after ten years, both sons died too. 

Naomi decided that her best chance for survival depended on her returning to Bethlehem where family might support her.  She tried to set her daughters-in-law free to seek other husbands and stay in Moab.  But one of these women, Ruth, was extremely dedicated to her mother-in-law and insisted on returning to Bethlehem with her.

Upon their arrival in Bethlehem, the town started buzzing over what all had happened to Naomi.  It was harvest time, so Ruth went out to follow the field workers (with their permission) and try to gather some of the grain that was left behind. 

It so happened that she worked in the fields of a man named Boaz who was a relative of her father-in-law, Elimelech.  When Boaz happened by, he quickly noticed Ruth because she was beautiful and also a very dedicated worker.  He told his men to protect her and to leave bundles of grain for her to pick up.  He spoke to Ruth and told her to work only in his fields where she would be safe! 

At the end of the day, Ruth was very excited at the amount of grain she had gleaned.  She reported to Naomi of Boaz’s kindness. 

The next day, Boaz showed up again and invited Ruth to eat with him and his men.  He told her to drink of their water when she became thirsty.  He reminded her to work in his fields only and complimented her for her kindness in staying with Naomi and leaving her homeland.  Ruth was overwhelmed with his generosity and kindness. 

Boaz instructed his men again to leave plenty of grain for her to pick up.  He encouraged them to give her special treatment. 

When Ruth reported all this to her mother-in-law, Naomi explained that Boaz was one of her husband’s ‘kinsman redeemers’.  At that time and in that culture, this meant that Boaz was one of several in Bethlehem who had the opportunity to accept responsibility for Elimelech’s family. 

Since harvest was nearing an end, Naomi gave Ruth a special assignment.  She was to bathe, put on perfume, get dressed up and go to the place where the grain was processed.  Naomi told Ruth to watch when Boaz slipped off to sleep.  Then she was to go and lay at his feet and sleep there.  This would signal to Boaz that she was available for marriage.  Ruth did exactly as she was instructed.

Boaz seemed greatly pleased with her actions and told her to return to Naomi the next morning.  He filled her shawl with grain when she left.  When she saw Naomi, she reported all that had happened.  Naomi told her that Boaz would take care of the legal responsibilities that very day.  And he did!

He sought out the only other ‘kinsman redeemer’ and called some elders together to witness their agreement.  Because the other man was already married, he only saw Naomi and Ruth as a liability.  Therefore, he legally passed his rights to Boaz.  Boaz was now free to assume responsibility for all that had belonged to Elimelech.

Boaz immediately married Ruth and together they cared for Naomi.  Very soon, by God’s grace, Ruth conceived and bore a son.  The women of Bethlehem marveled at how God had changed Naomi’s fortune!  Naomi became the babysitter for this new child!  Boaz and Ruth named him Obed.

That child, born in Bethlehem 1300 years before Jesus was born, may seem insignificant to us.  But later, Obed grew up and married and had a son;  he named his son, Jesse.  Then Jesse grew up and married and had seven sons;  he named his youngest, David. 

This David, to everyone’s surprise, became the King of Israel!  He was also the one who received the promise from God that eventually the Messiah would come from his family line. 

And when the fullness of time arrived, God spoke to another young woman, named Mary.  He also spoke to her boyfriend, Joseph, and confirmed to them that Mary would give birth (as a virgin) to the Messiah.  They were both descendants from the line of King David!  They were instructed to name their baby boy, Jesus – which means Savior! 

______________________________________

We all love good stories!  This is a true story recorded for us in God’s Holy Word!  You can find it tucked away in a short book that carries the name of its heroin, Ruth. 

I want to draw one key point from this drama:  God Prepares In Advance!

In about three months, I plan to embark on one of the greatest adventures of my life! 

When I was in my early 20’s, I began to hear about a relatively new hiking trail that began in Georgia and ran over 300 mountains and meandered through the Appalachian Mountains all the way to central Maine!  I was captivated by this concept.

However, I was newly married and heavily involved in educational pursuits that were preparing me for a life of pastoral ministry!  There was NO WAY that I could take 3-6 months off to go for a long walk in the woods!  So, it became a dream for me.  Frequently, I would think about what it would be like to hike the Appalachian Trail.  Thousands of times over the next forty years, I would dream about embarking on this adventure.

But, life happens!  Kids were born.  Ministry became my life!  Family, church responsibilities and educational pursuits filled my years!  Hiking the AT was relegated to nothing more than a dream.

Actually, after forty years in the ministry, I arranged with the New Middletown FMC to have a ‘Sabbatical Leave’ for six months.  My plan was to hike the AT (in the spring of 2012) and fulfill my dream! 

But, it never happened.  Instead, Debbie and I packed up all our belongings and left for China to teach English.  Our three years of missionary work there became the three most enjoyable, exciting and gratifying years of my life! 

However, I did harbor a little disappointment that my AT dream had been canceled. 

I retired at the end of May.  We’ve created a new home for ourselves in Enon Valley, Pennsylvania.  And with my wife, Debbie’s blessing, I am now actively planning that AT adventure. 

In just a little over three months from now, I will board a plane for Atlanta, Georgia.  Then I’ll shuttle to Dahlonega, Georgia.  Then, I’ll shuttle again to Amacola Falls where I will start my 2,150 mile hike!

So, as you can imagine, my life is seriously picking up speed as I prepare for this trek. 

o  Gear is being purchased and tested

o  Food is being prepared

o  Drop boxes are being planned

o  Training is taking place

o  Debbie is learning to drive our new riding mower.  I’m also helping her learn about other responsibilities that I carry in our home.

We’re both on a steep learning curve as I plan to leave for approximately six months.  Hiking the AT is not something you just decide to do quickly!  It requires preparation!

But my preparation is insignificant compared to God’s! 

It’s nearly impossible for us to imagine preparing 1300 years in advance!  And actually, God had prepared even much earlier than that. 

Listen to Ephesians 1:3-6 from The Message:

How blessed is God! And what a blessing he is! He’s the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in Him. Long before He laid down earth’s foundations, He had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of His love, to be made whole and holy by His love. Long, long ago He decided to adopt us into His family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure He took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of His lavish gift-giving by the hand of His beloved Son.

We are not capable of conceiving the complexity and completeness of God’s advance planning!  His planning infiltrates our lives!  God  cares enough to prepare!

My Mom was very serious about observing The Lord’s Day.  She would work on Saturday evenings to do as much meal prep as possible to reduce her efforts on Sunday.  Every Saturday night of my first seventeen years, she had peeled potatoes covered in water and sitting in the pot ready to be cooked the next day.  She prepared to observe her Sabbath!

Listen!  You’re getting the message, I know you are!   Good things happen because someone prepares! 

When I was a kid, Christmas morning was a time of unbelievable fun and excitement.  Most Christmases, I would receive at least one gift that sent me on a hunt.  I would open a package and find a note that would tell me to look under my bed.  Another package – another note to look somewhere else.  And on and on and on.  But eventually, the hand-written notes led me to a gift that brought me great joy! 

But this joy was the result of someone’s preparation and planning.  One year, I kept those notes and tucked them away.  I found them years later as an adult.  As I studied them again, I noticed that they were written on paper from my Dad’s shop!  I also noted that they were written in his script!  It was my father (not my mother) who was the mysterious Santa! 

My father wasn’t very hands-on.  He wasn’t very affectionate and didn’t spend much time with me.  But as a young adult, I realized that my father loved me enough to prepare, wrap and hide these gifts!  I felt very loved! 

Preparation is important! 

Imagine God’s excitement as He watched Naomi and Ruth moving back to Bethlehem!  Imagine His joy as He saw Boaz’s interest develop in Ruth!  Imagine His smile as Obed was born and cradled in his Grandma Naomi’s arms! 

Imagine God sitting in the Heaven’s looking forward to a day 1300 years later when another baby boy would be born in Bethlehem to a young, obscure couple! 

Advent is the season of preparation! 

The call of Advent is twofold:

FIRST,

We are called to remember the birth of the One who saved us from our sins and has given us the hope of everlasting life!

SECOND,

We are challenged to look forward to His Second Coming!  This challenge causes us to reflect on how we are living our lives.  We are called to live in such a way that we can secure our eternity AND influence as many others as we can to accept Jesus as their Savior and live for His purposes.

So, how about it today?

There's still a little time before Christmas! 

Don’t let Him be omitted from your preparations for His Birthday!  Take control of your life!  Don’t allow Him to be squeezed out!  Hallmark movies are great, but they RARELY communicate the message of a Savior born to rescue a fallen world!

Prepare yourself!  Prepare your family!  Help prepare those around you. 

Recently, Debbie and I ate using coupons at Burger King!  Another retired couple sat in the booth next to us and we exchanged laughter about using the great coupons!  As they got up to leave, the gentleman wished us “Happy Holidays!”.  Debbie wished him a “Merry Christmas!”.  He clearly noticed her greeting and you could see the wheels turning in his mind.  Finally, he looked directly at her and said, “You’re right!  Merry Christmas!” 

You can and do impact others - consider that thought...

You might enjoy this link to a wonderful song by Christine Dente:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MelsSzlgDVI

SAM'S CLUB

Debbie and I recently rejoined Sam's Club after a long absence.  On a visit there this week, I noticed a truly lighthearted feeling as we walked through the store marveling at the massive quantity of goods available at one location.  As I wandered up and down the huge aisles, I got to thinking about why I felt so good in this environment.

It occurred to me that I had really pleasant memories of shopping at Sam's from way back in the 80's when we were living in East Liverpool, Ohio.  Our kids were young;  Travis was a pre-teen.  We would all pack up in our car for a day-trip to Boardman and a visit to Sam's.  This was usually done on a Saturday when we had time to enjoy ourselves and stock up for a month.

Debbie and I both worked:  she was a clerk at the Tri-State Federal Credit Union and I was leading the Oakland Free Methodist Church.  

We would grab a buggy and head through the store throwing all the items in that we needed (and quite a few that we didn't need).  By the time we were finished our cart was chock-full!  It would include cleaning items, clothing, after-school snacks and lots of food items.  The kids LOVED these little pizza-bagels, and also the sandwich-chicken-patties that came in long, frozen packages.  

We would spend a couple of hours roaming the store and having fun together.  As we neared Christmas, I would sometimes have a second buggy that we tried to conceal from the kids (good luck with that).  

The only downer was when we would check-out and I would watch the register climb to $100, then $200, then over $300.  Then out the door we would go to load all our prizes into our vehicle.  It seemed we were all always in a good mood during these trips.

After shopping at Sam's, we would head for Chuck-E-Cheese for more fun and lots of pizza.  If it was summer, we might stop at a miniature golf course at the corner of South Avenue and Rte. 224.  It was a monthly splurge time and a genuinely fun time for our family!  

One year, when we were living in a rented house on Bradshaw Avenue, I thought I was particularly clever in hiding our kid's Christmas gifts.  We had a small garage in the basement and I had hung my 16' Coleman canoe from the ceiling.  I had stuffed it with all their gifts - just waiting to be wrapped and placed under the tree.

We found out years later that Travis had searched the house and found the stash.  He had excitedly called Troy and Tracie to the garage while we were gone and they had a fun time ruining their Christmas morning!  

Those were fun years for our family!  

One of those fun days occurred on March 13, 1993.  Again, it was a Saturday and the snow began falling in the morning.  Warnings were out to stay off the roads.  But having gone to college in Rochester, New York, I was never one to be frightened of driving in snowy conditions.  We had planned to go to a huge shoe warehouse (Reyer's) in Sharon, Pennsylvania that day.  

Despite the cautions, we loaded into our big Chevy and started up Route 79.  The warnings were warranted - the snow came down in a fury!  We went from Reyer's to a Coney Island for our lunch.  Then we headed to the outer area of Hermitage to go to a KMart store.  As we walked into the store they informed us that they were closing due to the blizzard!

We decided to head home.  As we drove down Route 79, many cars were off the road and some were even stopped in the driving lanes.  The snow was over a foot deep, but we were able to keep rolling.  

Suddenly, we came upon a car stopped in the right lane.  An older woman was flagging us to stop.  She had taken her husband for a treatment at the hospital and couldn't keep the car moving.  She was desperate and asked if we could get her (and her husband) home to the Calcutta area.  They piled into our back seat and off we went.  

Less than a mile down the road, we saw a big man climbing out of his car from a ditch.  We stopped to see if we could help him.  Minutes later, he joined our troop as our crammed Chevy (with lots of added weight) snow-plowed toward East Liverpool - passing dozens of abandoned cars along the way.

As we road along, Travis seemed to recognize the woman.  Turns out she was Mrs. Possage, one of his elementary school teachers.  It was a festive time as we managed to get them to their house.  Then we delivered the man to his home.  Then, fortunately, we got back home safely.  Seventeen inches fell that day and it was later memorialized on a Brighton Hot Dog Shop cup as the Blizzard of '93.  

Lots of fun days are stored in our memories from those wonderful child-rearing years!  

Thanksgiving 2017

I grew up in New Brighton, Pennsylvania, during the 1960's.  It's a small, western Pennsylvania river town.  My Dad lived there most of his life (except a few years in Beaver Falls - after he married my Mom).  It was a good place to grow up.

My schools:

• Fourth Ward Elementary:  grades 1-4
• Thompson Elementary:  grades 5-6
• N.B. Junior High School:  grades 7-9
• N.B. Senior High School:  grades 10-12

I received an excellent education and am grateful to the many teachers who had a positive influence on my life!  

Small-town communities maintain traditions.  Every year, at that time, the protestants would collaborate on a Community Thanksgiving Worship.  It would move from year-to-year among the various churches in town that could hold the crowd.  This service was held at 10:00 AM on Thanksgiving Day - which had to have been terribly inconvenient for the women who were preparing Thanksgiving feasts!  

Most of the time, our family attended;  there may have been a couple of times that I went with just my father.  It was an amazing experience!  I loved the grand pipe organs of some of the big Presbyterian churches.  The architecture of the Lutheran churches impressed me and the liturgical signs of the United Methodists were intriguing.  The singing of traditional Thanksgiving hymns was part of the experience.  Worshiping with our neighbors was wonderful!  I would see other students from my school there with their parents!  Sometimes that sort of surprised me!   :-)

It was a wonderful time of community spirit anchored in our common faith in an Almighty God!  Love and respect permeated the air!  I miss that...

Each year, like you, I reflect on the things I'm thankful for.  Our lists would probably be somewhat similar.  

• My wife!  Debbie is gone at least one day a week to be with her Mom for 24-hours!  It's amazing how much I miss her companionship those days!  We've been friends since 1968 (married for 44 of them).  We've shared lots of joy and some pain together.  She's been patient with me.  We continue to love sharing our lives on a daily basis!  It's hard to comprehend what it will be like next spring when I leave her for months to hike the Appalachian Trail...
• Our children!  We've been texting today about how much we enjoyed Travis' abilities in the kitchen!  He was such a source of pride and joy in our lives!  He blessed us by spending holidays with us well into his adult life!  We miss him terribly.  Troy and Missy have bought a new house;  we're so excited for them!  They live less than ten minutes from us!  They're caught up in lots of improvements on the house as they seek to "make it their own"!  It's such a comfort for us to have Troy close by.  Tracie and Jon live in Connecticut.  We get to see them a bit more now that we're retired, but it's still a long trip.  We're so proud of Jon and his accomplishments in the Navy.  Tracie is an amazing wife and mother.  And Rylie and Coltin are so special to us!  
• Our home!  We've lived in many different parsonages and homes over the years.  Most of them, we were a bit reluctant to put holes in the wall or suggest structural changes, because it didn't really belong to us.  So, you can imagine our joy at now having our OWN HOME!  We are so comfortably snuggled into the hillside in Heron Woods (in Enon Valley).  We're only a couple miles from the farm where Deb grew up!  Four of her sisters and two brothers live minutes away.  Our home is surrounded by tall pines and we overlook two small lakes that are teeming with fish!  
• Our friends!  Although we have not cultivated many close friends, we enjoy a wide circle of caring support that reaches literally around the world!  At times of loss or difficulty, we have been so generously supported in prayer and with other expressions of love and thoughtfulness.  

Both of us were raised in Christian homes and appreciate the tremendous advantages that were ours as a result!  That foundation was so important;  we tried to pass that favor along to our kids!

I've been so favored throughout my life!  I've tried to respond with a generous heart as a result.  I'm so thankful for the freedoms I've enjoyed that came at such a high cost by many in our military!  I will always stand to honor this country and our flag.  My earliest memory is of my Dad taking me to a Veteran's Day parade (when I was three) and teaching me to take off my hat when the flag went by!  It's deeply ingrained in me!

But most of all, I'm thankful for God's grace!  I am so aware of how inadequate I am and how completely undeserving I am of what He has done for me.  I'm continually overwhelmed by His patience and long-suffering!  He should have given up on me long ago, but He still keeps pursuing me and calling me.  I'm forever grateful!  

Although Thanksgiving is not celebrated in China, many of my former students have been texting me with messages over recent hours!  Their innocence, hope, creativity and joy were such a blessing to me!  We've had numerous conversations with them since last night and feel so privileged to have lived and walked among them for three years!  

Even though we've settled in here at Heron Woods, we still have an adventurous spirit!  We're a little anchored right now because of Debbie's participation in caring for her mother, but don't be surprised if someday you hear that we've headed off to some foreign point on another life-adventure under God's grace and guidance.

For now, I'm counting my blessings - naming them one by one.  And I'm GRATEFUL!  

BLESSINGS ON CORNERSTONE

Our family showed up at Cornerstone Church in March, 1996.  We arrived after a spiraling period of confusion and chaos.  After leading a church in Spencerville, MD for two-and-a-half years, I resigned because of a family crisis.  We packed all our belongings up in the two-car garage (with the church's permission) and headed for the Whippo family farm in western Pennsylvania.

After a month with Debbie's parents, we moved to an apartment in an empty building in Chester, WV (rent-free, courtesy of a special friend).  I spent the next several months looking for any kind of a job that would produce income.  Finally, Debbie and I interviewed with the Shelter Care social serving agency in Akron, OH.  Short story:  we were hired and began work about two weeks later.

At first, we lived in Cuyahoga Falls.  On Sunday, we knew we'd attend the Cornerstone Church;  we had attended seminary at the same time as Charlie and Brenda Young.  We'd heard of the stability, vision and growth of this congregation and were excited to be a part of their ministry. 

I called ahead to get the times for worship.  We arrived early:  me, Debbie, Troy (15) and Tracie (14).  We stood in the foyer waiting for the first service to end.  As the service time grew closer, the foyer began to fill!  Eventually, we were pushed over to the entrance to the office suite.  More and more people crowded into this limited space.  We could hear the worship team leading the congregation in the closing song.  Excitement was building!  By now the room was so packed with people, I wondered how anyone would get out of the service.  

Suddenly, the ushers (I remember that Dave Potter was one of them) pushed the doors open and people started streaming for the front doors!  Amazingly, the crowd parted as they passed through.  People were high-fiving us as they left the building, giving hints of what we should expect!  At one point Troy (over 6' tall) leaned over to me and told me, "Dad, I think I'm going to like this church!"  We were all feeling the excitement;  I asked him why?  His response was golden:  "There're a lot of good-looking girls that attend here!"  :-)

Gradually, we were able to squeeze through the crowd and enter the sanctuary.  People were literally running to get seats!  Dave Haydu was the worship leader at the time;  he did a great job!  The music was new to us and invigorating spiritually.  Brenda Young's message was on-target!  We knew we had found our new church.

That very day, the congregation was saying farewell to an associate pastor.  As a result, Brenda fairly quickly asked if I was allowed (by Shelter Care) to hold another position.  In a matter of weeks, I started as a part-time associate.  In June, her other associate left to attend seminary.  I stepped into the full-time role of Lead Associate and stayed for nearly six years.

Being free of the lead role, I was able to work in areas of strength and develop relationships.  I trained several Men's Ministry Teams while there.  I did a lot of oversight of the nearly twelve members of the staff (many were part time).  I picked up the nickname of the guy who wore many hats.

Our lives were on full-throttle during these years.  The Cornerstone family accepted us completely.  They also enfolded the many children and youth that we brought from our shelter home!  We felt so blessed to be part of this phenomenal work of God.  Cornerstone is the only church I've ever known where seventy-five percent of the congregation are first-generation believers!  It may sound like an exaggeration to say that we saw commitments to Christ EVERY WEEK - but it's the truth!

Jim Stetler became a role model and dear friend during these years.  He's one of the most amazing evangelists and disciplers that I have personally known.  He was tenacious!  I admire him deeply!

Working with Brenda was a highlight of my career!  I learned so much from watching her and sitting under her ministry!  She is an exceptional leader who invests deeply and places great demands on her staff!  I will be fore ver grateful for the investment she made in my life and ministry!

Our time in Akron was fraught with ongoing family dilemmas and stresses.  Our Cornerstone family coddled us and our kids and our shelter kids.  The prayers of God's people saw us through a seven-year process of recovery.  And praise the Lord, Troy remained in Akron and at Cornerstone even when we moved on to New Middletown.  He became established in his faith and began to participate as a leader in the young adult ministry!  Thanks be to God.

It was when we arrived at Cornerstone that I decided to change my name.  On our first Sunday, I asked Brenda if she would help me do that.  I had always disliked the name Harold, so, with her help everyone in Akron began to know me as Hal.  :-)  [It's short for Hallelujah!]

There are SO MANY stories that could be told.  In the late fall of the same year we arrived, I stepped in temporarily as worship leader.  The connection with the people was so strong that I continued that role until we left in the summer of 2003.  The church grew to three services during that season and we were thrilled to be a small part of it!

We were led into ministries that we would never have dreamed of.  Debbie came to lead a Bible study for a group of women who were trying to break away from destructive life patterns.  She remembers mentioning Moses in the first study meeting;  these women said they'd heard his name, but wanted to know who he really was.  We were called to some of these homes for crisis interventions at all hours of the day (or night).  They became our newest friends!  God was so gracious and kind to work in us and through us during these years!

Gradually, my role emerged to be more of counseling than anything else.  Brenda also counsels.  We also had a counseling center in the church staffed by members of the congregation:  Cornerstone Care!  We were constantly reaching people who were caught in the perils of life and were looking for a lifeline!

Discerning and training leaders was a major part of our role!  No one does that better than Brenda Young!  She taught me to hold the crown over people's heads and let them grow into it!  [Those who know Brenda have heard those words before...]

I feel the pain of the current congregation as they leave a building that has many memories.  However, I am fully confident that He who began a good work in you, WILL COMPLETE IT until the day of Jesus Christ!  Keep the ministry strong, Cornerstone people!  Keep loving and caring for those who need it!  Keep snatching them from the fire!  God isn't finished with you YET!!!!!  Trust Him to cover the details!

Much love and frequent prayers from Pastor Hal!!!!!!!!!

BIG SHOES TO FILL

I read on FaceBook that my friend, Dale Garrett, died Tuesday.  When I passed this word to my son, Troy, he expressed the same genuine sorrow that I did when I heard the news.  We sat in the same row with Dale and Pat on Sunday morning at church.  It's hard to believe that he's gone.  Genuine sympathies to Pat and his family!

I was Dale's pastor for nine years.  He was a regular attender and continual encourager.  His unique laugh echoed in our halls and his charismatic smile infected anyone around.  

Dale drew a crowd when he started into his story-telling mode.  His 'bigger-than-life' stories were captivating and often left you wondering how much was actually accurate.  I've heard him tell stories about his brothers and sisters on numerous occasions.  They must have been a tough bunch!  He made them sound like lumberjacks or studio-wrestling types.   He would unwind his stories and look you right-in-the-eye and say, "It's the truth!"  :-)

The whole community will miss him for his assumed role as Santa Claus every Christmas season!  He served the children and adults of our area for years as its greatest advocate of genuine Christmas joy!  He was tireless in portraying this venerable character!  Nobody did it better!

We invited him to stop by one year when our grandchildren were visiting.  They were apparently too young to appreciate him and stood watching from behind their mother.  But Dale spent over an hour trying to coax them to his side.  

Eventually he turned his attention to our son, Troy, and our son-in-law, Jon.  Before long, he had Troy on the floor teaching him how to do a one-handed push-up!  And the stories rolled...

This expression of Christmas joy came to fruition one year during our NIGHT OF JOY celebration.  As we presented the Christmas story that year, I had asked Dale to be a part of the evening.  He showed up - in costume - and greeted people in the foyer before and after the program - picture-taking abounded!  

But the most meaningful moment of the evening came when Dale (Santa) came forward at the climax of the play and knelt at the manger for a few moments.  Powerful!

Many kids grew up at Free Methodist Community Church thinking that Santa attended their church all year long!  

One of the things I loved about serving Free Methodist Community Church was the fact that we were rich with men on Sundays.  There were a number of times during my tenure that I made a special appeal to men in the congregation.  Each time I did so, Dale Garrett was the first on his feet and moving toward the front.  I have no doubt that he loved the Lord and sincerely tried to be a good man!  

Dale's generosity was a hallmark!  He gave freely of his time, talent and treasure.  On a couple of occasions he encouraged me to borrow his Corvette to use in taking Debbie out on a special date.  I guess I was too proud to accept his offer which is a shame because I know he really wanted me to do so.  

In 2012, Debbie and I left our role at FMCC and headed for China to teach English.  Dale was so excited for us.  Many years earlier, he and Pat had lived in Japan for a number of years and he regaled me with stories of the different countries they had visited and lived in.  He strongly reassured me that this experience would be valuable and enjoyable.  Of course, he was right!  

During our three years in China, communications gradually declined - the "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" principle at work!  We distinctly felt the loss even among our family.  We had some pretty lonely holidays during those years.  But Dale never quit communicating!  I have a file of stories that he sent along that brought me laughter and joy at a time of relative isolation.  He kept me informed about his grandchildren and his other activities.  

Like so many others, I'm going to miss him!  I'll miss that high-pitched "He he he..." that signaled his excitement!  I'll miss him coming up to me and telling me:  "Pastor Hal, you're a good man!"  He was the good man!  He made an impression!  Be sure that my prayers will prevail for Pat and the rest of this special family!  Heaven is richer as this new resident thunders down the streets of gold!  

If you'd like to read his obituary, copy and paste this link:  

http://www.vindy.com/news/tributes/2017/nov/02/dale-l-garret/

Feeling Grateful

Yesterday, since it was rainy and I couldn't work outside, I decided to drive up to my brother's house in northcentral Pennsylvania.  He's downsizing and offered me his riding mower.  So, I hitched up my little flatbed trailer and headed off in the late morning.

It's a four-and-a-half-hour trip;  I arrived at 3:00 PM.  Joyce had a nice lunch for me and we sat and talked for a while.  Then Ira and I went out to load the mower and tie it down.  They invited me to spend the night and the better part of wisdom said I should do that;  however I took off a little after five o'clock.  

By the time I reached route 80, it was already dark.  It made for a long, lonely trip.  In spite of having the trailer loaded, I was still able to roll along with traffic at 70 miles-per-hour.  I expected to arrive home a little after 10:00 PM, watch some TV and go to bed.  That's NOT the way it happened.

Around 8:45, as I was accelerating up an incline, my Xterra began to shudder.  I couldn't tell if I had a flat on the vehicle or the trailer.  I immediately slowed down but did not pull off.  The Emlenton exit was coming up and I hoped to make it.  I did.  

There was a truck stop there!  Yay!  I pulled under some lights and disconnected the trailer so I could locate the sound.  It was definitely coming from the car.  I crawled under the car with my flashlight and checked the tie-rods and springs.  Everything looked good.  I gripped each wheel and they all seemed tight.  

I  notified the people inside that I would be sleeping in my vehicle.  After calling Debbie, I hunkered down to spend a long night in the Xterra.  UNCOMFORTABLE!!  And rather chilly!  I forced myself to stay put until 6:00 AM.  Then I went inside for breakfast.

After talking with some locals, I discovered that there was a repair shop across the street!  :-)   I pulled over and waited for them to arrive;  they opened at 8:30 AM.  

The owner was more than happy to take it for a short ride.  He then pulled it inside and jacked up the front right.  The wheel wobbled significantly!   Two lug bolts had sheared off!  Two other lug nuts had fallen off along the way.  Of the remaining two, one was loose.  

Now mind you, I had been rolling along at 70 mph with one lug nut holding my tire on!!!!!    See why I'm feeling grateful?   

Psalm 46:1  
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

POST SCRIPT

My Mom had a peculiar way of thinking about things.  I suppose it emerged from her Reformed Presbyterian upbringing.  She strongly believed in God's protection!  I can't tell you how many times, when we were traveling, that she would see an accident and say something like:  "Leonard, if we hadn't ______________  [fill in the blank:  gotten that long light, or stopped for iced cream, or left a little late...] we might have been involved in that accident."   I'm sure that each of my siblings would smile at this explanation;  they all heard it as often as I did!  

I thought of Mom this morning after my car was fixed and I was back on route 80 - again going 70 mph!  A few miles down the road there was evidence of a MAJOR accident:  deep black skid marks for several hundred feet and crumpled guard rails for an equal distance.

You know what leaped to my mind?

If I hadn't pulled off last night because of my problem...

;-)  

OCTOBER THOUGHTS

In some respects, it's remarkable that I haven't written more about my Mom over the years!  She was certainly the dominant force in my formative years.  As I've written before, my father wasn't an affectionate man and we did very little together.  I did become closer to him when I became an adult, but we never shared a deep sense of bondedness.

But Mom (Hazel Haire) was my 'hand's on' parent!  Her impact was persistent and powerful!  Her constant love for the Lord led her to be deeply involved in our local church.  When I was a teen, she was a key leader in the Pittsburgh Conference Women's Missionary Society.  Her passion for missions was epic!  We frequently had missionaries stay in our home overnight or for a few days! 

In addition, she was deeply committed to prayer!  Her Bible is still filled with lists of people that she was regularly praying for.  She cultivated in me a passion for God and for the things He cared about.  She poured endless time and energy into preparation for mission events.  She planned and executed "This Is Your Life" programs for a number of missionaries and other church leaders. 

I still possess notebooks in which she tucked away magazine clippings, bulletin items, scriptures, sermon notes, and other items that she didn't want to lose track of.  I wonder if she had a dream of someday collating much of this information into a book-form?  She inculcated a similar practice in me that has resulted in a massive, alphabetized electronic file that has fueled my sermons and teaching for decades! 

She died a little over a year after having a heart-valve replaced.  The surgery had been successful, but the anti-rejection medications eventually took her life.  She died less than two months after Tracibeth was born.  The date was October 10, 1981.  I was 29.

Losing her had a massive impact on my life!  Essentially, Troy and Tracie have no memories that include her!  :-(   Travis had some memories of her deep love for him!  I understand that this is one of the results of being the youngest in my family;  however, knowing that my children missed out on her tremendous influence and love has been a chronic point of sorrow for me! 

For years after her death, I experienced a bout of depression when October rolled around.  Even though over thirty-five years have passed, I still can't get past an October 10th without missing her deeply! 

Then, two years ago, early October was marked even more deeply by Travis' death!  We got word of his cardiac arrest on October 5, 2015.  It was just past 3:30 PM and I was about to get in the car when Troy put his hand on my chest and said, "Dad, you're not going to Kittanning today."  That's when our world collapsed...

By 8:30 PM, remarkably, we were on an airplane headed for Honolulu.  The next day we arrived at the hospital to stand by his bedside and weep.  He died three days later on October 9.

The next weeks went by like a blur.  There was a memorial service at the Pearl Harbor Chapel attended by his work associates and friends.  There was the funeral at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.  Through it all - we were numb.

The first anniversary of these dates was difficult.  We (Debbie, me, Troy, Tracie and Josh) mourned together via text.  We upheld one another with words of affection and prayers of concern.  We were all deeply hurting.

This year has been different.  Debbie and I spent a quiet week at a condo in North Carolina.  She hardly went out at all.  I ventured out for some hiking.  We were quiet all week.  We both did a lot of reading and napping.  Troy and Missy attended a retreat in Arizona for the siblings of lost military members.  I guess we're all finding our way through this the best we can...

Since Travis passed, our 'highs' aren't near as high and our 'lows' are much lower!  Neither of us are as social as we used to be.  Even Debbie, who has carried me relationally for over forty-four years, now often suggests that we just 'take a pass' on interactive engagements. 

Many others have been down this road before us.  They report that the pain lessens with the passing of time.  I guess we can attest to that to some degree, however, the knowledge that our precious son is gone can assault us at the most unsuspecting moments. 

We live with questions that can't be answered or are too difficult to ask...  Times of real joy - that used to regularly punctuate our lives - are extremely rare now. 

Somewhere in my training as a counselor, I read that one must talk of your lost loved one for one-hundred hours to facilitate the healing process.  However, most people - understandably - are reluctant to bring up Travis' name for fear of causing us pain.  A corrective to this scenario is:  WE LOVE TALKING ABOUT OUR SON! 

I recently had a chance to talk with our nephew, Colin Bredl, who is also serving as an officer in the United States Navy.  I shared a number of 'Travis stories' with him.  I don't know what he thought of my candor.  It was therapeutic for me to talk with Colin.  Upon Travis' death, his Commander heard about Colin;  some phone calls were made and Colin was granted 'leave' to travel to Annapolis for the funeral.  It meant a lot to us to have him there! 

I weep.  I hold Debbie when she weeps.  We occasionally lay awake at night in sullen sorrow.  Sometimes we speak;  other times we just hold hands.  All of the time we lean on the One who loves us most:

Does Jesus care when my heart is pained

Too deeply for mirth or song,

As the burdens press, and the cares distress

And the way grows weary and long?

Refrain

Oh yes, He cares, I know He cares,

His heart is touched with my grief;

When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,

I know my Savior cares.

Does Jesus care when my way is dark

With a nameless dread and fear?

As the daylight fades into deep night shades,

Does He care enough to be near?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed

To resist some temptation strong;

When for my deep grief there is no relief,

Though my tears flow all the night long?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve said goodbye

To the dearest on earth to me,

And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks,

Is it aught to Him? Does He see?

Refrain

I WENT TO CHURCH THIS MORNING

For this week, we are living on a mountaintop near Banner Elk, North Carolina.  Being Sunday, I searched for a church to attend.  I chose a United Methodist Church in Banner Elk.

My GPS took me to a deserted lane on the campus of Lees McRae College. After doing some narrow backing up, I proceeded through the tight campus and discovered a Presbyterian Church.  After parking, while walking toward the church, I found the United Methodist Church.

It's web-page announced a worship at 9:30 AM.  The outdoor sign proclaimed a "Contemporary Service" at 9:40 AM.  It was 9:29 AM and there were no cars in the lot.

I slipped in a door marked "Entrance" and worked my way slowly up some steep stairs.  At the top, I peeked into a small fellowship room and was noticed by the pastor.  I asked if there was a worship service at 9:30 AM?  He said, "Yes, although it might be just you and me."

I went into the sanctuary and seated myself about halfway while he changed the hymn numbers on the board at the front and prepared the Communion Table.

Shortly after, another couple (also visitors) entered a different door straight into the sanctuary.  At 9:40, one parishioner also entered.

The pastor brought a stool back to where we were seated and began the very informal service by talking about his tenure at this church.  He arrived several years earlier to a congregation of five members.  He has seen some moderate growth since.  The roster at the front of the church indicated an attendance last Sunday of 40 and an offering of $166.21.

He then asked for prayer concerns and prayed for us.  He spoke of the different views of sacraments between Catholicism and Methodism.  He was very soft spoken and I had great difficulty hearing him.  He talked about Christ's last evening with His disciples and explained the Lord's Supper to us. Then he invited us to join him at the front of the chapel and he served us Communion.  He pronounced a blessing over us and the service ended.

As I wound my way to the back and started down the stairs, I yielded to about five elderly women who were arriving for the 11:00 AM worship service.

As I walked to my car, I felt guilty when I saw the sign that said the lot was strictly limited to use by people attending the Presbyterian Church!  A few cars were pulling in as I left - obviously to attend the 11:00 AM service.

You can imagine my thoughts as I drove back to our mountaintop retreat.

Sadness.  Overwhelming sorrow at a pair of churches located at the center of a college campus that are both propping up traditional forms of worship but failing to connect with people - especially young people!

I wept as I drove.

Although I've attended several churches over recent weeks, I've been disappointed at the simple head-nod that's been given to the horrendous grief thrust upon people who live in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico and Mexico.

I remember the massive spike in church attendance immediately following the attack on the twin towers in New York City in 2001.  It lasted one Sunday, largely because these inquirers didn't find relevance when they entered the doors.

I'm no longer leading a church, but that doesn't mean that I've dis-invested from it.  I love the church;  always have - always will!  But, like so many others, I long for it to be relevant and caring.  Exclusivity has no place in these walls! I pray for fresh winds of the Spirit to blow through our churches and our lives.  I pray for my own personal renewal.  

So many churches that I've been part of have been difference-making churches!  While serving at New Middletown, I kept a poster on my office door of people who had led someone to Christ.  Before I left, I had to add more space to the bottom of the page!  :-)

During my years on staff at the Cornerstone Church in Akron, the weekly staff meeting was so exciting!  Nearly EVERY WEEK there were reports of people surrendering their lives to Christ!  By God's grace, we were catching people from the dregs of life and putting their feet on a purpose-full path!

God,

Help us to clearly and accurately reflect Your love and mercy to the people You bring us into contact with every day!  Renew us through Your gracious forgiveness and enable us with charm and power as we seek to be Your Church to a lost and hurting world!

Amen.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

I woke up one morning in 1987, and noticed that my hearing was different. Throughout the morning I had a crackling sensation in my left ear, and by noon I couldn't hear at all.  I went to my doctor who sent me to an ear specialist.  I eventually had surgery to see if it was anything that could be repaired.  The doctor explained afterward that I simply had a condition referred to as 'nerve deafness'.  From that time onward, I have had a 100% hearing loss on my left side.

But to be honest with you, it hasn't bothered me that much.  Many people actually have this same handicap.  At that time, the hearing in my right ear was excellent.  So, life became a process of positioning myself (and others) to facilitate my hearing.  Debbie learned to always sit or walk on my right side.  I became adept at keeping people on my right side.

I had a friend while we lived in Maryland.  Al was always difficult for me to talk with.  I would get him where I needed him to be and then he would move. Talking with Al was like dancing...   When I invited him and a group of men to my home one night, I positioned myself so that everyone would be on my right;  Al took my seat!  I confronted him humorously about doing so.  That was the night that I discovered that he was also deaf on his left side!  The only way we could talk was to stand or sit face-to-face!   :-)

In short, things went well for the next two decades.  Many people didn't even know about my disability.

But then, the hearing in my right ear began to decline.  This presented me with problems.  By the time we went to China (2012), it had become rather pronounced.  My students learned to only approach me on my right side.  I struggled in my teaching role to hear my students.  When the need for proper pronunciation is center-ground, not-being-able-to-hear is a major issue!

I even stopped backpacking for a number of years because it was unnerving to be in the deep woods and not be able to tell where sound was coming from. On one week-long trip, I took my dog, Collar, with me;  I could watch him for cues and it gave me a sense of security.

One summer, while we were visiting the U.S., I received a used hearing aid from a friend.  It even had a receiver piece for my left ear that sent a radio signal to my right ear - supposedly giving me hearing ability on both sides. After some adjustments by a hearing specialist, it was a blessing and did help some.  I wore it for over two years until Debbie pursuaded me to go be fitted for my own personal hearing device.

Over $4,000 later, I was wearing an up-to-date, high-tech, very small hearing aid.

I still struggled to hear.  I have been back repeatedly for cleanings and adjustments, but I still struggle in most environments.

This reality has changed me - BIG TIME!

I am becoming increasingly socially adverse.  So many situations place me in an uncomfortable situation.  I find myself frequently in dilemmas where I'm pretending that I can hear.  I hate that!

Just last week, Debbie and I pulled into Freedom Church's lot for the annual car show.  As I parked, I mentioned to Debbie that my anxiety level was skyrocketing.  She tried to convince me that I would be among friends and people who loved me.  However, that is little comfort when you know you're going to repeatedly be in stressful situations because of your hearing deficit!

I find myself withdrawing more-and-more because of my hearing.  I am far less social than I used to be.  I am uncomfortable at church where I struggle to hear and understand what's being said from the platform.  I struggle in social events where many people are gathered and the collateral noise-level is high! I even have difficulty when speaking on the phone with people who talk really fast.

One huge aid is the ability to see a person's lips.  Between my limited hearing and the ability to see the speaker clearly, I can often figure out what's being said.

I don't like the changes this has brought about in my life!  It was certainly a factor in my premature retirement.  I miss the easy exchange of information that used to take place.  Now, I miss so much that it makes me wonder whether it's worth going places.  I particularly feel sorry for Debbie for having to repeat 80% of what she says to me!

HOWEVER, in the midst of this small difficulty, I am grateful.  I CAN still hear.  I bought a streamer for our television that feeds directly to my hearing aid!  Now I can watch TV without blasting Debbie and our neighbors!  I even brought it on vacation with us!  I still enjoy music.

My disability is minor compared to what so many people deal with!  My heart aches for people with real woes like:

• The people in Houston, Florida, the Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rico who have lost everything!
• Those mourning lost loved ones, jobs and homes in Mexico.
• Veterans who have lost limbs and other functions as a result of their military involvements.
• People who are struggling with cancer and other life-threatening diseases.
• Those with blindness, deafness or other disabilities from birth or early on in life.
• Those in Third World countries who live on less than a dollar a day and wonder where their next meal will come from.
• Those who are unjustly imprisoned with little-or-no hope of relief. 
• Those caught in extreme poverty or abuse with no power or connections of hope.

My challenge is simply that - a challenge.  It makes life a LITTLE harder.  I remain deeply grateful to God for ALL that He has done (and is doing) for me! His kindness is overwhelming! I will continue to praise Him and lean on His daily help to be all that I can be for His glory!  

A Visit to the Barber Shop

I'm just back from my local barber shop where I "got my ears lowered" (as my Dad used to say).  I've been visiting various barber shops since I was five. My Dad took me to Buzzy's at that age for my first experience with electric clippers being placed against my head.  I would have panicked if it wasn't for his constant eye-contact and head-nodding!

Until I was sixteen, I always went in my Dad's company.  It was a manly experience as I sat among the men there and listened in on their conversations.  When inappropriate language was occasionally used (particularly by Buzzy), I would look at my Dad and he would smile at me.  I knew that WE didn't use that kind of language (including SOB).

Over the years, I've observed that the barber shop is a good place to get a gauge on society and the culture.  Many barbers seem to enjoy talking and expressing their opinions as they cut.  It's a place where a free forum of ideas and opinions are expressed openly - without judgment.  Occasionally, opinions differ and discussions get louder and more animated.  But most of the time, there is an open atmosphere where opinions are expressed and usually appreciated.

I'm not one to frequent bars, but I suspect they might be another place where opinions are freely exchanged.  Like many of you, I've heard that bars are a place where "Sometimes you want to go. Where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came.  You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same."     [Cheers theme song;  lyrics by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo]

How I've longed through the years that the church could be the same...

Actually, I've rarely entered into the barber shop dialogues.  Consider it a result of my introvert nature.  There have been times that I have sat through an entire haircut without speaking a word.  But, I listen!  And occasionally I agree or insert a thought of my own.

One thing is certain with my present barber shop - you will get a straightforward assessment of current affairs:  local and national.  My barber is NOT an introvert!  He does an amazing job of cutting hair while manifesting his loquacious nature at the same time!  I can't say I love dropping $16 each time I visit, but in the long run the haircut and entertainment are worth it!

Today, I walked in with no special expectations.  If I had thought about it ahead, I would have probably expected a diatribe about the unusually warm weather we've been experiencing for the last two weeks (of September).  I would have been wrong.

No, the topic for my entire haircut was the NFL.  Opinions didn't vary;  there was unanimity!  The guys in the shop (mostly age 50+) were all united in their disdain for the league, its coaches and its players.  Even Lebron James took a beating in the shop today for his recent foray into the topic (unusual for an icon in this area).

The anger for the protest against the flag and anthem was heated.  Stories were told of tickets being burned and a universal switch to college football on Saturdays.  Distant Super Bowl parties are being considered for a different day than the Super Bowl with the focus being on the food and just being together.

To be honest, I was caught unaware.  I figured the heat had died down since Sunday.  Apparently not!

I've been caught up in the fray as well.  Sunday was a really down day for me, and it had nothing to do with the Steeler's loss.  It's terribly discouraging to observe the distress in our country over this issue.  Can we agree that it's painful to see such a deep divide developing?

I once wrote a blog about my earliest memory.  It was of my father taking me to a Veteran's Day parade in upper Beaver Falls.  I recall him holding me in his arms (I think I was 3) and teaching me to take my hat off when the American flag went by (at that time, it only had forty-eight stars on it).  :-)

Consequently, respect for the flag (and our military and our country) is a very high value for me!

In my hours of reading and reflection on the present turmoil, however, I am coming to realize that for some people (particularly African Americans) their highest value may be "freedom and justice for all".  Because this value is so high, they choose to protest in a way that violates my highest value (respect for the flag, veterans and country).

End result:  we are all conflicted!

I haven't resolved this issue for myself and don't pretend to be a teacher or guide for others. However, I am trying to respond with an open mind and respect for my fellow citizens.  I'm trying to understand.  I'm praying for God to bring us to a place where we can unite without threats and certainly without violence!  I hope you'll do the same.

Thoughts on Church

In June, I began my retirement.  Debbie and I immediately faced the decision of where we were going to worship.  Freedom Church in New Middletown was an obvious choice to explore for several reasons:

• Troy and Missy attend there.
• I led this church from 2003-2012.
• We already know most of the people who attend there.

But we both agreed that there were other churches we would visit and consider for our new Christian home.  One church is near home on our former, frequent route to Kittanning;  as we passed we consistently observed an overflowing parking lot at this country church.  At this point, our decision making process continues...

This process has surfaced some personal responses that I'm going to air. These are my thoughts, not Debbie's.  I mean no offense to any church mentioned or referred to.  I've been considering writing this blog for a couple of months, but have delayed out of fear of being misunderstood.  I hope you'll give me some latitude here.  :-)

Keep in mind that I have led churches for over forty-two years.  My record reveals some effectiveness at helping churches to make needed transformations to engage and sustain vibrant ministry.  What most people don't know is that this required me to set aside my own 'likes' and 'dislikes'. :-)  I led the churches I served to make decisions based on reaching lost people.  This process always creates friction with long-standing members who don't always see the need for change.

Now, however, that I'm no longer leading a church, I find myself longing for the things that are meaningful to me personally in worship and ministry.

Two things leap to the foreground:

First, the worship environment.

I understand the reasons for darkened worship centers (notice that we seem to have left 'sanctuaries' somewhere in the past).  I know that videos and PowerPoint presentations are more powerful in a darkened environment.  I realize that it tends to direct our attention to the stage (it used to be a platform) where the band, actors and presenters are.  I am aware that it provides intimacy and privacy for the worshiper to respond.

I just miss the light!  For years I led a church that was physically built to show off God's magnificent creation.  The builder had done a study of the sun's movement.  He designed and located the sanctuary with a triangular (symbol of the Holy Spirit), stained-glass window whose reflection moved down the front wall of the sanctuary during the weekly worship hour. Gradually, the reflection centered on the brass cross sitting on the Communion Table.  Every week, it left worshipers in awe of God!

Bottom Line:  I find a bright, well-lighted worship center to be far more uplifting than the darkened environments that are so common today.

Second, the music.

Ahh, Hal is getting old!  Yes, that's true, but hear me out.

I love music!  I always have.  I learned to sing in church.  I love to hear parts. Church is one of the few places where we sing together!  Four-part harmony brings me joy.  [One of my frustrations is that so much music in church is pitched too high for me (and most men) to sing comfortably!]

Since June, we've attended a couple of churches that sang only hymns;  I loved it!  I also love:

• anything performed by Phil Keaggy
• the Gaither Vocal Band
• the Beatles
• the Delfonics (ok, I dated myself there)
• Herman's Hermits    :-)
• the Praise and Worship music of the 80's
• Twila Paris and Amy Grant
• Michael W. Smith
• Casting Crowns
• Mercy Me
• Third Day
• Wintley Phipps
• ...I could go on and on...

One of the reasons I love Family Camp is because my brother-in-law, Jeff Diddle, does such an amazing job of weaving music as a vehicle of worship! We sing some of the latest contemporary songs, praise choruses, gospel songs, hymns, and folk music.  It's called "blended worship".  

It's easy for me to grow bored when I attend worship and don't know any of the songs!  I want to sing!  I want to praise the Lord!  

Believe me, as a church leader I've had to defend the church's music constantly through the years. Most of the time the church was presenting music that was outside of my personal preferences!  I understand the need to be relevant and to appeal to our contemporaries who may 'try us out'.  I also know that there's a lot of good music out there that can be used to direct our thoughts and worship toward God!  

Recently, we attended that country church.  Again, the parking lot was brim full.  Inside the brightly lighted sanctuary we were warmly greeted.  We heard three lengthy scripture readings and prayed a powerful prayer of confession.  We sat in the eighth row;  when the offering plate went by I added my check to a plate that was already covered with folded checks!  I got to sing bass to the hymns (and one praise song).  There were nearly 200 present and all age-groups were evenly represented.  I thoroughly enjoyed the experience! One drawback:  I didn't know anyone there (although Debbie did).  

I'm not sure where we'll land permanently.  I love to worship!  Always have! Sunday has been my favorite day of the week for years!  I guess it's likely that we'll land in a church where we can worship meaningfully while surrounded by like-minded people who love and serve Jesus with similar passion...