Marsha has a long way to go, health-wise. But when I walked into her room on Wednesday afternoon, expecting someone near death, I was greeted by a woman who was dressed, perky and had everything packed up. During the night she had made a dramatic turn for the better. Her doctor was mystified at this turn around. Rare that such a thing happens. We can't attribute this to the power of prayer because that has no scientific basis. Still, though, the turn around was amazing. She still can't walk well, although that is better than not at all. The doctor also seemed concerned because she mixes metaphors and sometimes says strange things that almost make sense, but not really. Marsha did not appreciate me saying that this was normal for her. She still has this diabetic syndrome, but it is suddenly under control. She was packed because they were sending her to a facility for rehab. I stayed with her until she was fully settled and then I went back to my motel. Our son would meet us there on Thursday morning when he got off work and just before I left to come back to Indiana. And that is the Marsha update.

        Just being there brought back memories. Where the hospital sits used to be a thick woods. Seemed odd to be sitting in a hospital where I had gone coon hunting as a boy. I didn't travel over to my hometown, nor did I go to the town where I had pastored for so long. But I was in a pensive mood and once back to my room I got to remembering.

        Often, while we are making an impact on someone's life, we don't even know it. Maybe they don't know it, either. What seems common place at the time may be changing a person's life for either good or bad. We want to be a blessing for people, but the wrong words or a misinterpreted action can spoil a person's perspective. Sitting there in my room I thought of all the folks I had known and I sincerely hoped I had affected them for the good.

        Andrea Hall was one of those who I never got to know how her life turned out. She lived with her mother and sister in a wreck of a house down from the church a ways. The house was a crack house. The police were often there, hauling people away or answering some call from the neighbors. The mother may, or may not, have been a prostitute. I was told by a local officer that regardless whatever else was happening in the house, they left the mother and daughters alone because the children needed to be with their mother. I felt the girls would have been better off in foster care, but because they were there the church was able to reach out to them. 

        The little sister was involved in Bible University, which was the name we had given to our little kids program. Andrea was in our Youth group. She had a major crush on our son, which since he was a few years older, embarrassed the daylights out of him. Both girls wore worn out clothes that were often not clean. When we had snacks the girls would devour them. They were not well regarded in school, but our kids in the Youth group treated them very well. Both girls did well in their groups, but when I would go to the house to visit the mother, no one would answer the door. It was frustrating, but you can't do more than you can do.

        Then, one day, the mother and the two girls were gone.No one knew where, including the police. It was like they had fallen off the face of the earth. I have always looked at such situations as times we lost, and it would always bother me.

        Thursday morning I was at the rehab place with Marsha. Adam hadn't gotten there yet and a nurse was explaining to Marsha what was going to be happening while another nurse took her vitals. Just then, Adam walked in with a goofy smile. He said to me, "Hey, do you remember Andrea Hall?" What a strange question, until a beautiful woman walked into the room. She looked at me and whispered, "Pastor Wade!" She was dressed sharply in the current nurses uniform, her make-up was perfect and the only flaw were the tears streaking down her face. She put her arms around me and cried. Both the other nurses were quite startled. Then she looked over and saw Marsha, and the tears came on again. She pushed past the other two nurses and bent over Marsha (who was seated) and whispered her name and hugged her tight. The nurse who was taking the vitals said, "Oh, do you know these people?" She replied quietly, "This is Pastor Wade and Marsha." That seemed to make sense to the nurses, as if they had been told a story or two. "Listen, you guys, I have to go. I am late now. But we will talk!" And out she hurried.

        Adam said, "I held the door for her and she recognized me. I told her that Mom was here, and you know the rest." Except I don't know the rest. I don't know why they left that nasty house, I don't know what course their lives took and I don't know if she ever married or has kids or what. I hope she comes back to talk with Marsha. But, apparently, we made a positive impact on her life, an impact she has shared with others.

        Never, ever waste an opportunity to make that good impression and avoid making the bad impression. Someone's soul might hang in the balance. 

         They were a young Christian couple with two boys, Paul and Timothy. They had named the first boy after Paul in the Bible in the hopes that he would become a great servant of God, just as his namesake had been. Two years later, they had named the second boy Timothy in the hopes that he would learn from Paul and become a great servant of God in his own right, just as Timothy in the Bible had become.

        It was the hope of the parents, but Paul and Timothy seemed destined to go another way. Paul was bossy and had little use for his younger brother. He even begged to be allowed to sleep on the basement floor next to the furnace rather than share a room with Timothy. Timothy, for his part, was the daredevil. He climbed bookcases, went hand over hand up curtains, jumped off of the dining room table. When he got Paul's hand me down tricycle, he made a ramp and jumped the tricycle off of it. In church, Paul was the better behaved, but that was due to the fact that he mostly slept through church. Timothy, on the other hand, was wired up and couldn't sit still. In the pew, Dad kept Timothy on his left side and Mom kept Paul on her right side and they struggled through church.

        It became worse when they both got into school. Paul totally ignored Timothy because he didn't want his buddies to see him with a little kid. Timothy wanted to hang out with Paul and his friends. Conflict became a regular thing.

        When Paul entered sixth grade, the school issue was settled somewhat. Sixth grade was middle school. The middle school was right next to the elementary school, but they were still different. Timothy was jealous, but there was nothing he could do about it. Older now, the boys had their own rooms and Paul mostly stayed in his room and would not let Timothy in to pester him. Though Mom and Dad were still troubled by their two sons, they did feel a sense of relief.

        Although both boys had excellent Sunday School teachers, the parents began to fear the boys were not paying attention. At home during family devotions, the boys were there through threat of force. Paul was never going to set the world afire with the Gospel and Timothy was only going to be taught bad things by Paul. The dreams of the parents would never be realized. 

        That year, Timothy lost control of his bike going down a steep hill and crashed, breaking his left leg. That meant a cast and crutches. Eventually, the big cast came off and he only had a smaller cast from his knee to ankle. But he still had to be careful and so he still used the crutches. It was during this time that his birthday came along. As usual, Mom made enough cupcakes for everyone in his class. There was a problem, however. Mom could drop him off, but parents were not allowed to park and go in with their child. Timothy could never be able to carry the cupcakes in. So, at family breakfast, she asked Paul if he could help his little brother. "Well," Paul began. "I guess I could, but I really don't want to help him." It was the last straw for Mom. These boys were too much! She look at Dad with a look that he knew was intended to say, 'You do something or I am going to kill!' So, Dad slapped his hand hard on the table and barked out, "PAUL, WHAT WOULD JESUS DO IN THIS SITUATION?" Drawing on his years of Sunday School and church and family devotions, Paul promptly answered, "Jesus would have healed him and he could have carried his own cupcakes." The parents looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and then they both dissolved into laughter. Both boys were a little startled and they looked at each other and shrugged, perhaps the first time ever they had agreed on something. 

        In the end, it was all worked out. Paul carried the cupcakes in with the understanding that he could have the cupcakes of the kids that were absent. That was a good deal since Mom made great cupcakes. Mom spent the day smiling and Dad told the story to the guys at work. It was a good day.

        Twenty years later, Paul is the principle at his old Middle School. Timothy is the regional manager for Chick-fil-a. They both live in the same town and they get together most Sunday afternoons after church to watch the game or do something with their families. Mom and Dad usually stop over and on holidays the noise and laughter makes it hard to think. Paul didn't become that great missionary and Timothy was not Paul's student, but they are raising their kids in church, and they pray with their kids and read them Scripture, and that is as important as turning the world upside down. 

        So you are wondering what this has to do with you. Actually, it isn't written to most of you. Audrie and Clayton are going to have a baby boy in November, Sydney and Tanner have two boys already getting into trouble and it won't stop there. Generation after generation, they will come and those children will be born into an ever changing world, and those changes mostly will not be good. But there is hope. Really, there is a promise. Proverbs 22:6-Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. Don't give up hope, young people. Just raise them right.

 

        I like to go down roads I have never been down before, although the price of gas has curtailed that practice somewhat. But sometimes I just cannot resist. One such trip brought me upon a church out in the country. It was a pleasant looking place on that early Tuesday morning. Quite small, really, but well kept up. The grass was cut, the bushes trimmed, the flowers healthy and the building itself was well painted and trimmed. A little country church down a one lane road.

        Yet something was wrong. I couldn't place it at first as I slowly drove up to it. I stopped at the front of the church to read the sign, but there was no lettering on the sign. That seemed a little strange for such a well cared for building. I looked at the wide yard to the side of the church and imagined children playing there. And then I realized what was wrong.

        There was no parking lot, no driveway. The grass in that wide yard was a little bit paler than the surrounding grass. The nearest home was a good half mile away, so the congregation didn't walk. The road was just a wee bit wider than my car, so people were not parking on the road. The paler grass had once been the parking lot. The church was closed, but someone, probably a former member, was taking care of the building and grounds. It was a sad realization.

        We all know of places like that, places that once had life but now do not. We tend to make excuses for this situation. People moved away, some just quit going or started going elsewhere, people are just losing interest. The common thing to say is that it is happening everywhere. But this does not answer the question of why? Why is this happening? Has the world really given up on Jesus?

        Actually, religion has given up on Jesus and this has driven people away. There is a reason why non-denominational churches are growing and the so called mainline denominational churches are floundering, and it has nothing to do with music or donuts and coffee before church. Churches sit out in the country abandoned because their denominations have abandoned the Word of God. It really is that simple.

        There are seven denominations that make up the 'mainline denominations.' These used to be called the 'seven sisters,' although I haven't heard that phrase in a long while. But the seven sisters are the American Baptist Churches, the United Methodist Church, the Episcopalians, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, the United Church of Christ, the Presbyterian Church USA and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). Almost everyone is familiar with one or more of these denominations. What is not as well known is that five of these mainline denominations plus four other non-mainline denominations are in the slow but steady process of merging into a single denomination. But will it help them?

        Four of the mainline denominations were formed by uniting several denominations together. That might sound like a good idea, but in order to do that you have to take the different beliefs and set them aside. Once you have done that it is easy to drop beliefs, including Biblical beliefs, to make everyone happy. However, Christianity is not about making everyone happy. It is about bringing people to Jesus. There is a saying; The world used to reflect the beliefs of the church. Now, the church reflects the belief of the world.

        People leave the seven sisters for one reason, and it is not any of the ones listed above. No one likes to be a part of massive hypocrisy, and that is what the seven sisters represent. Every one of the sisters support abortion to some degree. Every one supports the homosexual lifestyle to some degree. Every one supports a liberal political agenda. The list goes on. As one pastor in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) told me, "We want to be all inclusive!" 

        How has that worked out these past twenty years?

        The American Baptist Churches has declined by 21%. The United Methodist Church has declined by 24%, and that will skyrocket in the next two years as churches exercise their once in a lifetime opportunity to pull out with their property. The Episcopalians have declined by 32%. The Evangelical Lutheran Church of America has dropped 38%. The United Church of Christ is down by 43%. The Presbyterian Church USA has gone down by 50% and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) has declined by 57%. This is not something new, either. The decline has been going on for decades. Now, however, it is accelerating.

        Please, please, please do not be dismayed when you see a dead or dying church out there in the countryside. There is life and there is growth and the Holy Spirit still has free reign!        

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

         'Woke.' A perfectly good word. A word that has had a definite meaning in the English language for a long time. Depending on your version, it appears a dozen times or more in the Bible. It meant just one thing until a few years ago. It meant the transition from sleep into consciousness. 

        But that has changed. Now it has been co-opted by the political culture. In that swirling cesspool of misery we call politics, it doesn't have a clear definition. If you are white, progressive and liberal, it means to be alert to social injustice and discrimination. If you are a different color or of a different social group, 'woke' can mean something else. You can apply it to anything you want in the political sense, so long as it is attached to the proper political narrative for your group.

        If you are a Christian, a conservative and/or (dare I say) normal, you are not 'woke.' You are the problem in society. You should be eradicated like the vermin you are. You stand in the way of a new world order. A time of like minds who believe and agree with whatever social media tells them to believe. 

        How many genders are there now? There used to be two, but 'woke' came along and changed things. A man can identify as a woman, a woman can identify as a man, OR, they can identify as neither or both at once. And that just scratches the surface of gender stupidity. People are identifying as animals, healthy people are identifying as handicapped and one group is identifying as space aliens. Actually, that last one may be true for the whole lot. Anything goes, anything is fine, unless you identify as Christian, conservative and/or (dare I say) normal.

        This is how stupid it is. I am a 67 year old white male. I am over weight, can't see well, I have diabetes, arthritis, vascular disease and sore feet. Let's say I wander into a bar and sit down next to a tall, willowy blond and say, "Hey baby, I identify as a 32 year old, 6'3" muscle bound athlete of any race you like, and I am looking for a good time. What do you say we blow this place and go somewhere fun?" And let's say that this blond is politically 'woke.' Have I got a date for that night? Afterall, I am identifying as something I certainly am not. Am I leaving with a tall, willowy blond? No, I am leaving in the back of an ambulance with a bruised and bloody face.

        The whole thing is not reality. The whole thing is stupid beyond belief. And they know it! It is just a way to tear away at the truth so the lie can be put forth. Once the lie is fully in place, the masses can be ruled with an iron fist.

        What can we do about it? (Uh-oh, now he is going to go all religious on us. And this blog was going so well.) I suppose I am going to go religious on you. I do not look at the world in a political way. It is not that we should 'vote the bums out.' We should pray that God intervenes. Prayer brought Peter and Paul and Silas out of prison, prayer brought fire down from heaven, prayer brought manna from heaven, prayer raised the dead. I believe this and I believe that God still speaks to us and responds to a praying people.

        But you are making it too easy! Really? Prayer is the hardest thing we can do. I don't mean praying the words. That is easy. I mean praying the words and then sitting back and breathing a sigh of relief knowing that you have given it over to God. Oh boy, THAT is hard!

        Of course, there is another aspect to this that you may not have considered. God's will. Not our will, but God's will. We pray for it, but if it is something other than our will, we feel God is not listening. We have prayed for change for years and nothing has happened. It has even gotten worse. Here's a thought. The USA does not appear in the Bible. Conservative Bible scholars have said for decades that in order for the end times to come, the USA has to diminish in some way and drop out of the world picture. Maybe this is God's will. Maybe the country is being diminished because God wills it.

        Well, then what!!??? Do we just let it happen? No. We pray about it and then let God deal with it. 

        I don't like any of this that is sweeping the country. But it doesn't keep me up at night. It is in God's hands. I would just mess it up.