The Inside Program/Christmas giving Idea.

Guys, this is a letter from a friend of mine who loves to help people. While you are putting together your Christmas buy list could you think about picking up a little extra to help her our. Call in Community Involvement, Call it church , Call it whatever you want, but please join us and get involved.

The Inside Program (TIP):  It is a program of Sheltercare largely based in Springfield that gets people off the streets, into apartments and learning new living and coping skills in the face of mental illness and other challenges.  Three years ago they launched the program with 9 residents.

A bunch of people got together and filled “wish lists” at Christmas.  The following year River Oaks Community Church took the lead again and Emerald Baptist Church joined in fulfilling the ‘wish lists’ for 14 people.  This is the third (and last) year handling the requests (program staff will take over next year with the help of an intern).

This year there are 23 residents.  The requests are largely for clothing, kitchen tools, art supplies, books or movies.

Guys, can you see if you have a spare coat, a spare Large sweatshirt, fairly new socks, gloves, and hats.  Gals, can you check your closets and ask friends for women’s coats, Large warm shirts or sweatshirts, fairly new socks, gloves and hats. Some people need umbrellas.  A couple of gentlemen have asked for rain gear for commuting to work on a bike.  There is a request for a guitar.

You can contact Catherine Amber about donations: catsurfing@yahoo.com or 689-0416.

It takes a Storm to create a Sound.

There is a legend of a German Baron who, at his castle on the Rhine, stretched wires from tower to tower, that the winds might convert them into the sound of a harp. The soft breezes played about the castle, but no music was born.

One night there arose a great tempest, and the hill and castle were smitten by the fury of the mighty winds. The Baron went to the threshold to look out upon the terror of the storm, and the sound of a harp was filling the air with strains that rang out even above the clamor of the storm. It needed the storm to bring out the music.

And have we not known men and women whose lives have not given out any entrancing music in a day of a calm prosperity, but who, when the tempest drove against them have astonished their fellows by the power and strength of their music?

Streams in the Desert. Nov. 29th

My Impossible God

If I really stop long enough to think about it I find that I am afraid of the impossible. I see the impossible happen everyday so I know it is possible. I guess what stops me from really diving in is the fact that the impossible is highly improbable.

My wife and I were married 25 years ago, we’re still married and that love transformed into two amazing young men, my sons. That should be impossible right?

I wasn’t the best student in high school. I was afraid to get up and speak in front of a class yet I worked in Television News for 23 years and just ran for statewide political office. That should be impossible too.

Now I have no job, the economy sucks, businesses are laying people off and I want a job. I dream of doing many things but all seem impossible. People ask me all the time what I’m going to do next. I give them the standard answer but give myself a way out for fear the impossible is so improbable that I will fail and look stupid.

For the first time in my life I’m not worrying about tomorrow. God said for me to take a “Pause” in my life and I am. I hope the next aspect of God’s character I can learn will be that He is a God of the Impossible and with Him all things are quite probable.

Mt Vernon Elementary School: Be Still and Listen.

I knew that familiar choked up feeling wouldn’t’ go away as I entered the hallways of Mount Vernon Elementary School in Springfield. Why would it leave me this year, it seems like it’s always been there when I walk inside those doors.
Each fall, for the past decade or so, Mount Vernon serves as a great reminder to me that life is not what it seems.

At one time Mount Vernon was one of the rougher schools in the district. A new building, required uniforms for the students and a focus on teaching the kids to be responsible and respectful proved to students that they could be remarkable.
Yesterday turned out to be a big day for hundreds of kids. Students who model these behaviors are given a “Self Manager Button”. It’s a really big deal.

The cafeteria is packed with kids, their parents, grandparents, neighbors and teachers. Each year I get to give a little talk and help hand out the buttons. I’ve done this for so many years soon I’ll be giving buttons to the children of past recipients. That means I’m getting old.

This year was different from past years. My life has changed dramatically and driving to Mount Vernon felt foundational in my world that sometimes seems to float in no-mans land.

The large ball that hangs in the back of my throat at times like this seems to be attached directly to a tear duct. I need to talk with a medical expert as to why this happens.

Last year I met Brendan. He’s a 5th grader. I met him in a class that I visit each year that has become my refuge at Mount Vernon.

It’s a class where students who need just a little extra help can go for all or part of the day. As a child I spend time in a class similar to this one. ( I still need help with math.)

The kids in this room seem to connect with me. Actually, it’s the other way around. I understand and love to get into conversations with them. They are so smart, so aware of aspects of life that I forget about. It’s great. I really love it here.

Last year, Brendan called me out. We were talking as a class when he said to me “you feel comfortable in this classroom don’t you?” I said “yes”. He said: “do you know why?” I said: “why?” Brendan said: “Because we don’t judge you here.” At that point the world stopped. There was this big giant pause that couldn’t be filled with a word or even a breath. It just happened. The teachers’ eyes started to fill with tears as did mine. He’d read, not my mind, but my soul. He was right. I’d never thought of it like that before. Then Brendan said something else that I never understood at the moment, but do “Get” today. He said: “I think your life’s going to change this year.”

You guessed it, another pause, another gap in time, another tear. Brendan was a messenger from God at least that’s how I see it. Never try to second-guess the hand of God.

Mount Vernon Elementary, on the outside, looks like just another Springfield School. But when you get inside, and get to know the teachers, kids and parents, you soon realize there’s something going on here beneath the surface that can’t be explained.
If you really dig, and step into the classroom where I feel the most comfortable, you not only feel the difference, you experience it. All you have to do is take the time, ask questions, be still and listen.

Handle With Care

It seems everything starts in a box. When you buy an I-pod or a stove, it arrives neatly packaged in a container. The reason, I believe, is two fold. One is simple protection. When products start out they go through plenty of moving, shipping and handling. A new piece of technology needs all the protection it can get in those early days to insure it arrives unharmed to it’s destination. At some point, all the packaging and handling material must be removed so the product can be useful.

The other reason for packaging is simple marketing. I loved the cool, clear box my “I-Pod Shuffle” came in. It made it look as though it were worth the 50 bucks I paid for it. I could see it, couldn’t touch it, but I knew I needed it. The package made me want to buy it but it also kept me from knowing what was really inside that tiny bit of technology. I had to buy it to open it and to eventually use it.

Humans are the same way. We come all neatly packaged in our mother’s womb with all the fluids and cushion so we can arrive at our destination unharmed and ready for action. But in the human, the packaging is not only physical it’s spiritual. Yep, there’s a spiritual Styrofoam that surrounds our lives that doesn’t go away when we shoot out the birth canal. Our spiritual packaging is something we must be involved in removing. It’s a choice each of us has to make. Removing the tape, cutting through the packaging material is something we must do carefully and purposefully. If we cut too deeply we might damage something inside. If we don’t make a clean cut through the strapping tape we’ll have to tear something. Packaging not only protects us, like the “I-Pod”, the packaging I came with, and some I developed over the years, makes me look good. I use that packaging to let people see only what I want them to see and nothing more. They can’t really get that close because the packaging lets them see only what they need to see and nothing more. Packaging keeps people from getting to close.

So, what’s my point? The box we came in has a shelf life and if we don’t rid ourselves of it, we will never become who we are supposed to be. Our physical and spiritual lives must be lived outside the box. We find our potential when we stop out of the box.

So, get the box cutter ready. Read the directions to make sure the box you came in is turned right side up before you start cutting. Don’t cut too deeply at first, vital parts may be close to the surface. Oh, and read the manufacturers directions before removing or using what’s inside. He made it and therefore only He knows how it should be used. And remember, although each “I-Pod” looks the same through the packaging, they are very different and so are you. So, handle with care.

Dead Air

The covers of my bed were unusually heavy last night. Restlessness stirred my soul, cluttered my mind and left me longing for the hands on the clock to hit 6am so I could get up and start doing something. Silence, I’m starting to realize, is not something I’m comfortable with.

I decided, as I slipped out of bed and pulled the covers up in a half-baked attempt to make my side of the bed, that I would spend time with God first, rather than jumping on my computer to play with you guys.

It’s November 24th and as I read the date, on my “Streams in the Desert” daily reader, I felt a panic arise inside. The end of the year is coming too quickly. I felt the familiar urge to bolt and get busy. This is a typical response right before I mentally panic and do what I can to fill the dead air with activity.

As I looked under the headline that read “NOVEMBER 24TH” it said “Be Still And Know That I Am God”. It went on to read: Is there any note of music in all the chorus as mighty as the emphatic pause? Is there any word in all the Psalter more eloquent than that one word, Selah (pause)?

God has given me a pause. It’s a place to stop activity and simply wait. I’m not a good waiter. I spent 20 years in an industry that punishes you for what’s called “Dead Air”.(a pause) Now, here I sit in complete silence. People ask me “what’s next?” I’m silent. I have no noise to fill the void. They ask about my political future, still, nothing.

I laid there in bed this morning with my hands at my sides as if I were dead. I wanted to ask God something but had no words to say: Silence. I start to wonder “what’s wrong with me that I can’t even ask God for something”? Then I got up, fed the dogs, lit a candle and read those eight words that have changed my outlook for today.

“Be Still And Know That I Am God”.

In other words, Dead Air is okay.