faith

Fall turns over a new leaf

~ Paul Phillips ~ 2 Comments

Fall isn’t my favorite season of the year.  I’m guessing that right about now, that’s tantamount to heresy around here, but I cannot live a falsehood.  For all its colorful beauty, Autumn is simply prelude to the dreary, depressing Winter that is invariably nipping at its heels, like a cold, vicious hound that can’t wait to see the backside of the warmth and comfort of the preceding seasons. 

When I was a naive young man, growing up in the tropics of south Texas, I believed that any winter which included a deep white blanket of snow that had fallen to cover the ugly brown earth, had to be better than those I experienced all those years.  Of course, “the grass is always greener”, as we all know, but I thought that experiencing four distinct seasons would have to be an improvement on the two we had there.  We always described the two seasons as Hot and Hotter…

The Rio Grande Valley in far south Texas is a primary winter destination for thousands of retired northern folks, most of whom maintain a second home there or else bring one with them in the form of the popular RV (we just called them travel trailers).  The Chamber of Commerce wanted us to call these folks “Winter Texans”, as if coming to their little refugee camps made them citizens, but we just called them “snowbirds.”   We, as kids, couldn’t for the life of us understand why anyone would leave the glory of snow-covered lawns, houses, and roads to come to the dry, hot realm of eternal summer.  Besides that, they clogged the roads, slowing down constantly to look at orange groves and palm trees, to say nothing of the long lines at the cafeterias like Luby’s and Furr’s.

Ah, the foolishness of youth!  I look back now and understand those old geezers (boy, somebody should look in the mirror!) much better than ever.  If my business allowed it, I’d be packing an RV right now to head down Interstate 35 for a few months myself.  Every year, I look forward to winter with much less zeal than the year before, simply because I have found that the gray days that are coming will leave me in a blue mood for weeks at a time.  I’m confident that it’s not real depression, but I will certainly not be as jovial, nor lighthearted as I am during Spring and Summer.  There are an infinite number of suggestions that friends and family have to cure this blue mood, ranging from listening to upbeat music, to going to the tanning booths, to buying a “natural sunlight” reading lamp.  I’d do the last one, except for the fact that all the designs look like they came right out of a nursing home and I’m not quite ready for that yet.  But you get the point…I don’t think much of winter and therefore, don’t have much use for the preparatory season that we are in now.  The Fall just reminds me constantly that everything around us is going to sleep, so it doesn’t have to endure the cold, dark season that is bearing down on us inexorably.

Having said all that (and I’m sure I’ll get emails), I have to add that the Fall is beautiful in the Ozarks right now.  The Lovely Lady and I took the weekend just ended to drive through some of the prettiest woodland you have ever seen.  The road to Devil’s Den is glorious with color, as is the highway to and from Eureka Springs.  Even with the niggling thoughts of the approaching Winter that came unbidden as we gazed on the scenery, the amazing show that nature puts on each Fall is in a category all its own.  We stood on Inspiration Point, viewing the White River valley and each direction we turned brought a new and marvelous vista.  Even I, with my cynical point of view, can’t avoid the obvious truth; God’s Glory is exposed with each new season, and in this one, this Autumn, with all it’s implications for the future, no less than any other and possibly in some respects, more than the others.  What a show!

So, I will grudgingly acknowledge that there are aspects of Autumn that make it a not entirely dreadful season.  My vote is still for Spring and I believe that the writer of the Psalms agrees with me.  After all, he did write about the man who follows God with these words, “… he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of waters, which brings forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also does not wither…”  So, eternal Spring is the appointed order for things and we’ll enjoy that in heaven, I’m sure.  The reader is free to disagree, but I’m fairly confident that I’m right.  Until that day, make the best of it, tough it out, and get outside into the glorious colors with which God has painted the world.

Autumn wins you best by this, its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
(Robert Browning)

Let your yay! be yay!

~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

She meant it as a compliment, but twenty-some years later, I can still get a little annoyed when I think about it.  Why is that?  What is it about words that makes us carry them around in a niche at the back of our minds and take them out sporadically, only to founder in the bad feelings they evoke?  I’ve decided in my adult years that I disagree vehemently with the old children’s doggerel that we heckled each other with, years ago…”Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  Since I know there are human beings in atrocious conditions that I could never comprehend, I don’t want to this to be too sweeping of a statement, but it seems to me that bones will heal. Conversely, I’m also convinced that the pain of hurtful words may linger for a lifetime.  If hers had actually been intended as hurtful, I might be writing this article from a completely different perspective.

When I tell you what she said, you’ll laugh at how thin-skinned I was.  I really never was angry at her, but it just irked me to hear it.  As I contemplate more, I think that the reason the comment comes back to me now is more about the truth (or potential for truth), than it is about the hurt. As I age, I find that I am examining the things I do more and more to be sure that I am leaving a legacy.  No, not the same kind of legacy that Presidents and public figures seem to be so obsessed with.  This is not about fame or public honor, but about the knowledge that I’ve fulfilled my purpose in life.  I really don’t want to get to a point where I look back and decide that I’ve wasted all the opportunities that I’ve been blessed with, especially after it’s too late to redeem the time.

What did she say?  Well, over the years, I have had the privilege of preaching at a number of services at my church. On the occasion I’m reminiscing about today, this elderly saint heard me preach for the first time.  I’m sure it was just that she hadn’t pictured me as a preacher, or even a public speaker, but as I greeted individuals at the end of the service, she gripped my hand, smiled sweetly, and blurted, “What are you doing wasting your time in that dinky little music store?”  I stuttered out a reply, which must have been satisfactory, since the dear lady remained my friend until she passed away some years later.

She meant it as a compliment!  She wanted me to know how excited she was to have heard me preach!  I think she was even saying that I had done a good job.  But all I heard was, “You’ve wasted your whole life doing something completely worthless!”  How do you deal with that? 

The Lord knew I needed an answer to that question because a short time later (a few weeks, maybe), I was speaking with my Dad on the telephone and he asked if we could pray before we said goodbye.  As he prayed, I heard the words, “…and bless Paul in the ministry you’ve given him there in the music store.” 

Wow!  How’s that for a contrast?  On the one hand, the thought that preaching would be so much more worthwhile than the profession I was in, and on the other hand, the statement that we are ministers wherever we find ourselves in life.  I’ve got to tell you, the light bulb went on!  I was put in this very spot for a purpose!  I don’t have to reproach myself for missed educational opportunities, or for my past lack of achievement in professional endeavors.  I can make a difference right here, right now.

My dad used to love this hokey little song that our choir sang many years ago.  I can’t remember the whole tune.  I don’t even have all the words at the tip of my tongue, but the main thought was, “Bloom, Bloom, Bloom where you’re planted!” (Told you it was hokey!)  And, that’s what I’m doing. You may think that I’m really just a bloomin’ idiot, but I’m pretty sure that the Good Lord wants us to buckle down and work right where we are.  He may move us somewhere else, but we do the same thing wherever we land…Settle in and bless those around us!

Oh!  And, let’s be careful how we compliment others.  A backdoor compliment isn’t how we bless them at all.  It’s more like the sting of nettles than the sweet aroma of a beautiful flower.  And it’s a sting that might be felt for a long, long time.

For he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of waters,
which brings forth fruit in its season,
and whose leaf also shall not wither.
Everything he does shall prosper.
(Psalm 1:3)

Keep your hands to yourself!

~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

How well I remember the conversations from the back seat:  “He’s touching me!”  “You did it first.”  “Did not!”  “Did too!”  “Did not!”  “Did too!”  Another voice, this time from the front seat, injects itself into the back and forth of the argument.  “Both of you, get back on your side of the car and keep your hands to yourself!”   Immediately, all is quiet, until a few moments later when you hear a plaintive voice from the back seat again, “He’s looking at me!”

Any of you who grew up with brothers or sisters close to your age remember those days.  Someone was always getting into your private space; someone was always making you uncomfortable and breaking up the relative peacefulness of your life.  There was no telling when one or another of the siblings was going to push the boundaries, either real or imaginary, just to see if they could add a little piece to their territory, especially if they could tear it from your grasp.  I’m just amazed that we all grew up without hating each other, in fact, actually loving and respecting each other.  But adulthood also brings with it a different, and just as confusing, set of problems.  The thing is, they have a striking similarity to those of childhood…

One evening, close to 20 years ago, I got a call from an elderly friend, a widowed lady, whose middle-aged son was visiting for awhile.  His marriage was in trouble and he had left home for a little thinking time.    His mom asked me if I would “counsel” him.  I’m not sure why she picked me, but she must have been under the mistaken impression that I had some store of wisdom that could help his marriage.  I agreed to spend some time with him, but it would be so he could have someone to talk with, not as a marriage counselor.  In getting acquainted with him, he mentioned that he would like it if we could talk some about the Bible.  I knew a bit more about that subject than marriage counseling, so I agreed that we would do a Bible study and suggested that when we got together the next time, he should bring a passage that he had a question about.

As we sat down at the table, he hit me with it immediately.  Ephesians 5:22 was the verse.  In it, the writer says, “Wives be submissive to your husbands…”  No sooner had I read it out loud than he burst out,  “That’s my problem!  She won’t submit and let me be the head of our home!  That’s why we can’t get along! How can I make her do that?”  Well, that stumped me for a few seconds.  The obvious answer was that he couldn’t!  That’s why he was here in Arkansas and she was in California!  But, that’s not what he needed to hear.  So of course, the next thing I told him was, “Get back on your side of the car and keep your hands to yourself!”

Okay, what I really did was to ask him a question.  “Does that statement give instructions to someone specific?”  “Well, yes,” came the reluctant answer.  “It tells wives how to act.”  “Well, unless you’re a wife, it’s obviously of no interest to you.  Move on.”  So down we went to the verses below that.”  He read verse 25:  “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church.  He even died for it…”  He looked at me as if I had punched him.  It wasn’t necessary to ask if he got the point.  It was pretty clear that he did! 

It seems that most things are like those letters I get with the directive printed on them, “To be opened by addressee only, under penalty of law.”  When the instructions are targeted at me, I should do my best to follow them, otherwise, I need to leave them alone.   I really can’t make anybody else live the way they’re supposed to, so it’s unproductive to try.  That’s not my job! And, it does more damage to relationships than any benefit that I’ll ever achieve.  I’ve also finally begun to realize that if I follow the instructions I’m given, somehow it becomes a whole lot easier for the people I’m with to do their own part, but as far as obedience goes, I’m only responsible for me. 

“Get back on your side of the car, and keep your hands to yourself!”  Turns out, Dad’s instruction for feuding siblings was also great advice for most relationships.  If we take care of ourselves, we won’t be getting  into spaces that aren’t ours.  I’m still not sure he ever figured out how to take care of the “He’s looking at me” problem.

“Child…I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”
(Aslan, in “The Horse & His Boy” by C.S. Lewis)

 “MYOB.”
(common anagram used in text-messaging for “Mind your own business”)

Selah! *

~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

Did you cry today?

Over the last 24 hours, the world has watched as 33 men, trapped for 69 days a couple thousand feet under the earth’s surface, were brought up one by one to be reunited with family and friends who have waited anxiously for those two long months, never having absolute confidence that they would hold each other again.  I’ve seen countless news stories, almost as many Face-book posts, and had several conversations in my business about the ordeal as the rescue continued today.

But, it wasn’t until this evening, when a friend passed on a photo of one of the rescued miners and the tee-shirt he was wearing, that I was struck by the incredible wonder that these men had not only survived, but thrived spiritually while trapped in that huge tomb, so deep under the earth.  The shirt has a quote from Psalm 95:4, which says, “In His hand are the deep places of the earth; the heights of the mountains are His also.”  After that, they’ve added, “To Him, is the Honor and the Glory.” 

This quote from one of the trapped men, earlier in the ordeal, also gave me pause.  He said, “Under the earth there is a ray of light, my path…and faith is the last thing that is lost…”

Yeah, there are tears in my eyes, too…

The media can and has talked about the incredible cooperative effort that went into this operation.  They’ve discussed at length the things that the engineers, the doctors, and the politicians have done right.  And, they’re not completely wrong to do so.  So many people have worked for weeks to make this rescue happen.  The NASA guys from the States were there, as well as a drilling team.  Many other countries lent their expertise to see the success of this particular enterprise.  But  we’ve seen these disasters before when all the effort of the skilled rescuers was ultimately in vain.  Men don’t control events.  We are not captains of our destiny.  It seems evident that these miners know who really protected them, who really sustained them through this seemingly interminable night spent underground.  I love that the testimony of their faith has been broadcast to the world in a positive way, not in the anger of “holy war”, not in the advancement of self-indulgence, but in the simple faith of men who needed to be rescued, believing that there was One who would answer when they called.

One of my favorite sayings for several years has been this, attributed to Thomas a’ Kempis, “For man proposes, but God disposes.”  We are an arrogant race (the human one, that is), taking credit for that which we have not done, believing that we are masters of our universe, but just as The Preacher in the Old Testament, we must eventually make the same judgment he did when he said, “This is the conclusion I came to:  We must fear God and obey Him, for this is the complete duty of man.”  Sooner or later, we will realize that it’s not about man and what we desire, but about God and His will.  Those thirty-three men are alive today at the pleasure of His will and I’m guessing they know it.

The old adage tells us, “There are no atheists in foxholes.”  I wonder how many there were in that collapsed mine, way down in the depths of the earth. 

 Soli Deo gloria!
(To God alone be the Glory!)

*From the Psalms, meaning something like, “Pause and let it sink in.”

Ifs, Ands, & Buts

~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

If weekends meant a reprieve for me in any way, I would have been asking, “Is it Friday yet?”, right about four o’clock this afternoon.  Bad day?  That’s like asking if GEICO makes funny commercials.  For disastrous days, this was ranking right up there with the best of them.  Promises I’d made couldn’t be kept because of ineptitude by suppliers, and every order placed by customers had a problem to be chased down and sorted out (okay, not every one, but enough to seem that way).  Even before that, at 4 minutes before opening time, one guy actually had the audacity to blow his horn outside the front door!  Not sure, but it might have been the fellow returning a non-functioning product.  We got that sorted out, only to have him return a few moments later, with the replacement not working!  As the day wore on, a rep from the inept supplier actually had the nerve to lie to me about a shipping date when I was staring right at the shipping record on my computer.  I had opened the doors at 12:00, and by 4:00, I felt it was time to close.  I was done!

But…!  I like that word:  But!  Although it’s a small word, it turns around what came before and gives it a different direction.  It has been a favorite word for me since childhood.  When I was a kid, I used it to argue with everyone in sight.  My big brother said I sounded like a motorboat going, “But,but,but,but,but,but…”   Mom’s phrase was, “You’d argue with a fence post.”  I spent most of a lifetime using the word to give the declarations of others a negative twist, to prove that I was superior.  I wish it were not so, but it is true, nonetheless.  I remain cognizant of my bent to arguing and I strive with the urge constantly, sometimes to emerge victorious and just as often to be humbled by my failure.  The fight goes on…

Tonight though, I put the word to different use.  The day had been horrible, but…!  I love the conversion from the negative to the positive that “but” gives to the sentence, the repentance that marks the turning from darkness to light.  This very dark day had a “but” in the middle of it.  A good friend walked in the front door of my business with the means for me to keep my promise!  I don’t want to be maudlin, but I can think of nothing more encouraging than having friends who rise to the occasion when I cannot.  And, make no mistake, I could not rise.  I had no “outs”, as they say in the game of Poker, but this friend had the very card I needed up his sleeve.  I think he was embarrassed by my gratitude, but I had been drowning and he threw the much needed rope to save me.

The “but” in the middle of the afternoon revived me, and still the day made one more attempt at bringing me back to my knees.  A last minute call from a customer far away ensured a labor intensive job which had to be completed this evening.  Fortunately for me, Thursday evening is always Macaroni and Cheese night at our house, so even the threat of this drudgery wasn’t as crushing at it might have been.  Nevertheless, the discouragement of the day hung on through the meal of comfort food.  After supper, we were off to a benefit concert for some young missionary friends, an appointment that my day had made much less attractive as it wore on.

But…!  (Did I tell you I really like that word?)  What a refreshing time!  We spent the evening visiting with old friends, many of whom we hadn’t seen for a long time.  It was energizing to visit while enjoying the great Bluegrass music (and some good coffee too).  But this time spent among friends, reminiscing, catching up on current happenings, and just enjoying each other, simply reinforced the lesson I learned earlier today;  Self-reliance is desirable.  Skill is to be sought after.  Even fortitude in the face of adversity is laudable.  But this I say without fear of any “but” to follow:  Friends are a gift!  And, I stand firmly with James in the Bible when he states that every good and perfect gift comes from Above.  May we all be blessed throughout our lives with many such gifts!  And may all our bad days be interrupted by the “but” of one of those gifts arriving to redeem the time for us.

“Old friends, Lord, when all my work is done,
Grant my wish and give just one old friend, at least one…
Old friend.”
(from the song “Old Friends” ~ Roger Miller)

A friend is always loyal, and a brother is born to help in time of need.
(Proverbs 17:17 ~ New Living Translation)