KAJN Jesus

Why we rarely listen to the radio as we travel, I really do not know. We just aren't big on listening, I guess. Occasionally when I'm driving and Neil is sleeping, I will listen to a Christian CD and sing along, but we virtually never listen to the radio.

Today we did. Driving along I-10 from a bit north of New Orleans and Lake Ponchartrain, through the Atchafalaya Basin, and west towards Lake Charles before heading north to Ft. Polk, Louisiana, we saw a billboard advertising KAJN Jesus. (To paint this picture as accurately as possible, the "JESUS" went down from the J of KAJN, like a crossword puzzle.)

Even though we are not ones to listen to the radio at all, and certainly are not anxious to listen to radio preachers, for some reason I found myself unable to resist finding out what KAJN Jesus might be.

The preacher of the hour was a Southern Gospel style preacher who was really into his sermon. He was talking about Christians who have "things to hide" in their homes -- or in their lifestyles, how they put up a good front, but that sometimes people find out that they aren't all they portray themselves to be. (He probably was talking about most of us, I fear.)

He shared about how his absolute all-time favorite place to go is Waffle House where late at night you get dinner and a free floor show, watching all the "real" people who come in and are simply themselves. He emphasized the importance of accepting people and enjoying them as they are.

In the course of the sermon about accepting people, he shared some actual prayer requests that have been given to him through the years . . . prayer requests with details that you do not correct or change, but rather you simply accept the person's words and pray for their needs.

Pastor Mike told us about the woman who once came and told him she had "roaches of the liver" and asked that he pray for her.

Another woman requested prayer for the "cancer in her pantry."

A gentleman came asking for prayer for his wife because she had "very close veins", and also for himself because he suffered from "my brain headaches."

And finally Pastor Mike's favorite and ours: a woman once requested prayer for her child who had "sick-as-hell anemia."

While all these things are serious and definitely need prayer, the terminology and unintentional word play of the people making the requests had me laughing so hard and praying that I wouldn't . . . Well, never mind what I was praying I wouldn't do.

Suffice it to say that we thoroughly enjoyed the sermon, even though we will never hear the conclusion because the announcer cut it off mid-sentence at 11:30. All of us need a reminder that sometimes we do not behave or speak in the way we know we should and that it is good to accept people as they are . . . and all of us need a good laugh, which we certainly had today, thanks to Pastor Mike and KAJN Jesus!

Beautiful Buildings

There are so many incredibly beautiful buildings scattered around our country -- old, old buildings that are majestic and historic, quaint places in old towns, and gorgeous newer structures as well. Today I thought it would be fun to share a few of our favorites.

Walking with our cousins along Lake Ontario, we saw this gorgeous old building, beautifully landscaped, now used as a social meeting place.


Merrilyn and I saw our grandparents old home, which touched our hearts with warm memories of special family times. Although not a mansion, this home had a heart of love.


With our treasured friend, Susan, we toured Mt. Vernon, George Washington's beautiful home, ending our time there at the Mt. Vernon Inn eating Colonial Peanut and Chestnut Soup and fried green tomatoes.


With Becky & Lou Shirey, we did a driving tour of Macon, Georgia, and saw gorgeous historic homes and other historic buildings in that old southern town. My favorite house there was the Johnston-Felton-Hay House, built in the mid-19th Century with 18,000 square feet, 24 rooms, hot and cold running water plus 3 indoor bathrooms -- not bad for the 1850's!!


And then there's the house we just passed. From the front, this house looked quite mansion-like with incredibly tall, stately white pillars, a lovely front porch, sparkling windows. But from the side, it looked sad with peeling paint and needed repairs obvious to all who viewed it.

It made me wonder how many of us are like this: beautiful in the front we show to the world, but not so beautiful when you look closely behind the façade.

Praying God will help us be as beautiful and genuine on the inside as we are on the outside!

When What to My Wondering Eyes . . .

Neil and I were driving down a North Carolina road on a sunny September day recently, passing a rickety pick-up truck filled with loosely tied bundles of dried tobacco, brown leaves flapping in the breeze, when what to my wondering eyes should appear but a yellow school bus . . . pulling what?

Beside me sat a still tasty, cooling cup of Starbucks laced lightly only with half 'n half -- honest! No Irish whiskey or bourbon or whatever one might use to lace coffee. I was both awake and sober.

Turning to Neil, I queried, "Do you see what I see?"

A yellow school bus driving along a rural highway on a fall day should not be an unusual thing, but it looked as if this one was pulling a wagon filled to overflowing with recently picked tobacco.

A school bus -- hauling tobacco? No matter what the state, one would think pulling a load of tobacco behind your school bus would not be an acceptable thing to do.

Approaching the vehicle as it turned onto a side road, we realized what we really were seeing: a yellow school bus closed in behind the driver's seat with the entire roof of the former passenger section cut away to make the rest of the bus into a yellow truck bed.

Indeed, we did see a yellow school bus, appropriately altered, hauling tobacco. What will our wondering eyes see next??

Niagara Falls

Have you ever read the well-known and well-loved children's book, "Charlotte's Web"? If so, you know that Charlotte was a spider who adopted as her life's mission the saving of Wilbur, the pig. To do so, she wove special words into beautiful spider webs above Wilbur . . .

I couldn't help thinking about that as I gazed at Niagara Falls the other day. Marvelous! Majestic! Fantastic! Powerful! Amazing! Incredible! Awesome! Which word best describes this overwhelming water flow?

And then I couldn't help thinking that it isn't the body of water that is so marvelous, majestic, fantastic, powerful, amazing, incredible, or awesome. It is our loving God, who created it, that should receive the accolades, to whom the all those adjectives truly refer.

The Crazy Cousin Reunion

It happened, that wonderful event around which our two-month trek was planned: The Crazy Cousin Reunion.

What fun -- to be with all our cousins on Dad's side of the family and most of their spouses plus a couple of the kids!! Only two of the fifteen cousins could not come -- Robert & John Bruce, both of whom live in New Brunswick. We missed you!!

Family is an incredible blessing. In this particular situation, family is widely scattered, so getting together is not easy. Two of us live in the States (Washington state and Southern California), three in New Brunswick (for those of you whose Canadian geography is sketchy, that's way over on the east side of the country), one in Calgary, and the rest in Ontario -- obviously, the distance between us all is quite vast. We're incredibly grateful to Ted & Nancy Boadway, who put the event together and hosted Merrilyn & Jack and Neil & me for our stay in Ontario, and to Mike & Donna Boadway who hosted the reunion.

For those of you curious to know what the "Crazy Cousins" look like, I'm posting a picture of us all above.

One of the other special things that happened during our time "back home" was dinner at our cousin Wendy's. She and Trevor live about 1 1/2 blocks from Lake Ontario, so we walked the boardwalk before dinner (see picture), returned to their home, and had dinner served on our grandmother's china. What a rare and wondrous treat that was, and how thrilled Grandma Johnson would have been to know that five of her grandchildren gathered around the table that evening and ate from her dishes!!

Memories: "Home" Again

The old farm still stands, is actually for sale, but Merrilyn and I chose not to buy this place that holds our earliest childhood memories. The old brick house has been painted white, the paint flaking away leaving a rather sad look. A slight wind could shiver the barn timbers enough to flatten it, that wonderful old barn where we used to play. We couldn't even quite bring ourselves to take a picture of this precious old place from our childhood, preferring to treasure memories of when it was a well-kept haven of love.

This particular afternoon in Ontario, Merrilyn and I were alone in the car and decided to take a little detour down our old side road to see the place where we were born and raised, at least for the first few years of our lives. How tempted we were to stop the car, get out, and strip handfuls of choke cherries from the bushes along the lane, stuffing our mouths with those tangy little things as we had in childhood, but the road was a bit too narrow to safely stop and snitch them as we'd done as children.

Marveling at our parent's pioneer spirit, we reminisced about that time in early 1951 when, for health reasons, Mom and Dad chose to sell our dairy farm, auction off all our belongings, buy a 1951 Ford and a 25-foot travel trailer, pack clothes and essentials, put their two little girls (Merrilyn - 8, and Patty - 5) into the car, say sad goodbyes to all their family and friends, and head across the border to the United States and a new life.

Memories -- playing in the creek with our cousins or the neighbor kids, sneaking the salt shaker from the kitchen when Mom wasn't looking and running to the apple orchard to pick green apples and sprinkle them with salt before biting down on that juicy fruit, slipping into the barn and petting the soft noses of our dairy cows who gazed back at us with huge brown eyes, playing with Laddie, our collie dog, and the barn cats who scampered beneath our feet. Great memories!

Memories -- going "back home" on the summers when we could afford to do that, with Dad the only driver, making the trek from Pueblo, Colorado, to Ontario, Canada, in something like 36 hours. How Dad could stay awake hour after hour after hour, driving straight through in those days before divided highways and major interstate freeways, is beyond us, but it was the only way we could afford to go "back home" to see all our family and the many friends whom we loved so much.

Memories -- of dinners with old friends from Baker Hill Baptist, a country church where we and all our nearby farming friends worshiped each Sunday. When we went home in the summers, what memories we have of dinners with each family, sharing stories and laughter.

Memories -- made this year with Gertrude, one of Merrilyn's best childhood friends, and Morgan Baker, my friend from those early days, reminiscent of years gone by when we would enjoy time with their family. Morgan and his wife hosted a dinner at their home for us, inviting other Baker Hill "kids" whom we had not seen for 42 years. Great memories -- of years gone by when we were all kids and came to visit with our parents and of memories created that night.

(Pictured above, front row, left to right: our hostess, Faye Baker, Merrilyn (my big sister), Marlene Simpson, Gertrude Baker.
Back row: Harry Simpson, Morgan Baker (our host), Wayne Oldham, and me.)

Day #22: Not the Brightest Crayon in the Box

Have you ever watched a show on TV that highlighted the goofs of perpetrators of illegal activities or received a list of them via e-mail? We thought we would add a true story to your collection of criminal tales because somewhere along the way the last few weeks, we heard a tale that must be told.

A friend of ours recently had to deal with a situation related to an employee who might not be the brightest crayon in the box or the sharpest knife in the block. Said in other terms, he just might be a few fries short of a Happy Meal, a few bricks shy of a full load, or a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Whatever your favorite expression for this might be, you get the idea!

It seems that said person was shopping early one morning in his local WalMart and accidentally dropped a bag of a substance that he should not have been carrying, if you know what I mean. Not realizing his clumsiness, he completed his business and went on about his day.

Later, wanting to relax himself with some of the substance in the little baggie he'd dropped, he searched and searched to no avail. It finally dawned on him that it might have fallen out of his pocket at WalMart.

What do you think he did? Yep, he called WalMart's Lost & Found to see if his baggie had been turned in, at which point he was assured that indeed it had been turned in, and he could come in right away to pick it up.

Who do you think met him at Lost & Found? Yep, the local police officers met him and welcomed him with open arms. Or was it open handcuffs?

I told you this guy definitely wasn't the brightest crayon in the box!!

Day #21: Kicking Off Your Shoes

Spending the Labor Day weekend with Ryan Bailey, one of our "kids" from ABTC/Fuller, has been a really good experience. It has been fun being with him in his new environment, seeing the beautiful little town of Monticello, IN, where he now pastors, and visiting with mutual friends, Rod & Shawn Zambrows (Baptist Campus Chaplain @ Purdue University). Rod & Shawn joined us in Monticello for dinner outside by a lake in a beautiful, serene setting on Friday night. (See picture below.)



This morning, Ryan preached a sermon entitled "Welcome Home!" and talked about how, no matter where we were born, where we have lived, or where we currently reside, our true home is in God. It was a strong and meaningful sermon.

One of Ryan's illustrations was about kicking off our shoes when we get home, which is something I almost always do. He mentioned that many of us also kick off our shoes when we are in the home of someone with whom we are comfortable -- family or friends.

As is sometimes the case, an illustration can bring to mind something that is not necessarily as serious as the points of the sermon, and that is what happened for me this morning, since kicking off my shoes at the home of friends with whom I'm comfortable is something I did just last night when visiting in a nearby town.

Although a video recording of this would be far more entertaining than a simple story telling, the following happened way too quickly to allow for the thought of capturing this for posterity.

Relaxing and visiting after dinner in their living room with our hosts, Ryan, and three current Purdue students, we observed Cambria (one of three cats in residence) come sauntering in with a tiny gray mouse in her mouth. Sitting down to enjoy a playful time before eating her catch, Cammy must have loosened her grip just a tiny bit too much, and away scooted that cute little mouse.

And there we were . . . 8 able-bodied adults scrambling around the living room trying to catch one teensy, weensy, fluffy gray mouse. Huge feet stomped, trying to stop the mouse in his/her tracks, while I shouted, "NOOOO!" Hands swept down to catch the critter to no avail. People scurried around trying to corner the creature, and when that little one came towards me, my bare feet were immediately drawn up onto the couch to keep out of the way, while I warned the guy beside me that, should said mouse get up onto the couch, the young Purdueite would find me on his shoulders, staying out of the way of the mouse and its hunters.

What a chaotic time it was . . . and what a frightening time for that poor, wee mouse trying both to flee the clutches of its feline captor and avoid the clutches of 7 of the 8 adults present. The one with bare feet chose not to join in the fray and, upon capture of the mouse by one of the Purdue students, pled that the frightened creature be released outside without further harm. Thankfully, that is how this saga ended, with life and liberty for all, order restored, and my bare feet returning once again to the floor.

Day #20: Dr. David Scholer

For many of us from Fuller Theological Seminary, the American Baptist Churches, and the world of theological education in general, a great loss has been sustained this week in the death of Dr. David M. Scholer (1938-2008), Professor of New Testament at Fuller and a strong voice in advocating for women in ministry.

David Scholer has been walking a difficult road in recent years due to colorectal cancer. His wife, Jeannette, the love of his life and his life partner (they recently celebrated their 48th wedding anniversary), has been walking that journey with him with steadfastness and strength.

Together, David and Jeannette have been an incredible example to people too numerous to count: children and grandchildren, students especially from Northern and Fuller Seminaries, members of churches with which they have been involved, a vast circle of friends and associates, and a wide audience of people who have heard David speak or read his writings, including an amazing sermon on living with incurable cancer, published in the Los Angeles Times.

It is with gratitude to God that we remember David Scholer, whose life was well-lived, whose journey was well-walked, and whose Savior was well-served by this amazing man of faith.