Words for Living #8 (published in "The Community Voice" January 30, 2008)

Someday, I might get to tell you the story of our dog that bit me. Almost took my eye out, and I got a whipping for instigating the attack.

The cat that we lost two islands away that made its way home after six months is a fun one. Truly, that cat had more than nine lives; I think he used at least nine lives surviving a “fall” into our open well.

I was also bit by a monkey at a zoo and was rewarded with rabies shots. You know the kind where the needles are two feet long and go into the stomach. One cat I owned hunted and apparently killed dogs. Poor thing was hit by a car while chasing a dog across the road.

I could tell you about the people who couldn’t go on “pilgrimage” so they would stone our house instead. The day before, the leaders would warn us, assure us they would make sure the stones were small, and invite us to the huge party afterwards. We went to the party and the next day they cleaned up the yard and fixed anything the stones broke.

I’ve also lived through a communist coup, had a .45 held to my head by a crazed neighbor, and was riding in a car mistaken for one driven by a cop killer. Over all, it’s been a boring life compared to some of your stories.

Some stories are funny; others may be interesting or terrifying. Then there are the ones that change your life. I remember standing in front of a church sanctuary, watching the most wonderful woman in the world walking toward me, and thinking “What am I doing?” I remember the excitement when my son was born. I got home from the hospital praising God, saying “I have a son!” And God said back, “I had a son, too.”

I remember hearing about God the Father who loved me so much that He sent Jesus, His only son, to take my punishment and give me eternal life. Trust me, at that point in my life; I was well acquainted with guilt and punishment. I remember personally accepting that gift and asking for forgiveness for my sins. Something happened at that moment beyond imagination or explanation.

I walked away from the alter and saw, for the first time in my life: colors. I don’t know if this ever happened to anyone else, but that’s my story. The real question is; what is your story? Have you been to the point where you felt the personal and living love of God for you? Have you accepted responsibility for the wrong things you did and ask God to forgive you? Have you said “yes” to God?

I haven’t been flawless since then. Like everyone else, I mess up. I only have a promise. “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” [1 John 1:9]

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Words for Living #6 (published in "The Community Voice" January 16, 2008)

Remember the first time you saw or did something? When was the first time you saw a mouse? Don’t say the “Tom and Jerry” cartoon.

The first time I saw a mouse was at a dinner party my parents were hosting. The furry critter scampered out from behind the refrigerator and pandemonium broke loose. Several guests jumped onto chairs screaming in panic. My big brother, having probably watched too much of the previously mentioned cartoon, started throwing silverware. Mom grabbed a broom and went into warrior mode. Dad flipped one of the serving containers upside down and started stalking the terrified creature.

Finally they managed to evict the invader and explained that mice were dangerous disease carrying vermin. It was there and then that I decided we needed a cat. After all, if this was fun, then a cat would be way more entertaining. A cat would rid us of the mice and I would get the bonus of making my malevolent dog’s life miserable.

So I started to adopt stray cats. Stray cats were easy to find, most of them were starving, and someplace in my kind twisted heart I reasoned that I was doing them a huge favor. It didn’t matter that Mom was deathly allergic to cats and Dad was a dog person. The only one that seemed happy with the new cats was my brother who took to cleaning his “BB” gun. Notice I said “cats.” Mysteriously the cats I brought home would vanish. It didn’t bother me; I just picked up a new stray. Still, a mystery is a mystery that needed to be solved. I blamed my dog, my brother, and my parents for obvious reasons. Eventually the truth became clear; my neighbors were eating them. I would bring them home, fatten them up, and they would cook them up in the middle of the night and eat them. I knew this because they were stranger than my brother.

My brother was a regular pain. He was twelve years older than me and acted like he belonged to the family. Seriously, we sent him off to boarding school in another country so I figured I was wanted and he was not. He’s still fond of pulling out the tape the family was recording to send back to the USA. I interrupted the conversation and said, “What do we need him for?” Today, I know the neighbors didn’t eat the cats, I have a spoiled dog, and I love my brother.

The Bible says, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.” [Romans 13:11] Apparently childish behavior was causing people to behave badly in church. Paul’s solution was “love.”

When we love someone else, we set aside our preferences and prejudices. We give the other person the benefit of the doubt. We trust them. Childish behavior kills churches. What’s in your church.

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