West Cocoa Chat

My son turned 15 yesterday. He spent the weekend with a group of friends from church who were camping out at Moss Park. Two of our friends have boats so he was able to spend 3 days being pulled at 40mph on tubes designed for this kind for high energy adventure.

Barb and I drove over to Moss Park (45 min.) each day to see Steven and hang out with our friends. We went over last night and brought birthday cake and ice cream to celebrate Steven turning 15. Night was falling as we finished his birthday cake. The kids were getting ready to go down to the dock and do some night time fishing. My 15 year old son took a step back in time when he whispered into my ear that he wanted to go home. At this age, teens usually want to spend more time with their peers than their parents.

I asked him if everything was O.K.? He said he was tired and wanted go home with us. As we drove away from the campground, Steven curled up in the backseat of our Honda with his sleeping bag and pillow. My wife motioned for me to look at him. She remarked at how much he looked like the little boy he used to be "many moons" ago. As I looked back at this fading vision I thanked God for what I'm sure is one of my chances to see my son as a "little boy."

In honor of Memorial Day our preacher (Don) asked one of our members, Glenn, to speak to the church. Glenn is one of a group of retired gentleman that meet for breakfast on Thursday mornings. Then they proceed to our building and cut the grass. Glenn is also military retired. In fact, he is a former "The Sgt. Major of the Army," the highest ranking enlisted man in the entire army.

Glenn through occasional tears, told of an experience he had during the Vietnam War. He was a Platoon Sgt. during that time. He had two men in his unit, best friends who had come in under the Army's "Buddy Program." He said these two men were closer than blood brothers.

Glenn spoke about how the Viet Cong (VC) used the American mindset of not leaving anyone behind in a battlefield against them. He said the VC would set up "kill zones." Their aim was to wound an American soldier and then continue to "wing" the down soldier casuing him to cry out in agony . The VC would then kill any soldier(s) attempting to rescue the wounded soldier and start the whole vicious cycle over again.

Glenn said on a particular day one of the 2 friends wondered into a VC kill zone. He was immediately wounded and called out for help. Glenn yelled for everyone to fall back into the jungle knowing the VC's intent. He said everyone obeyed him except for the wounded soldier's friend who promptly ran to his wounded buddy. As he picked up his wounded friend Glenn said they could all hear him say to his buddy, "I knew you wouldn't leave me." Glenn said that it was at this point that both of them were shot dead. I don't think there was a dry eye in the church as Glenn told this story. Glenn said this was they type of sacrifice we should remember on Memorial Day.

Then Glenn reminded the church that 52 Sundays a year, we have a "Memorial Day" for a friend named Jesus. A friend who saw each of our eternal souls in the "kill zone" of Satan's. And like the friend in Glenn's story, Jesus willing stepped into Satan's kill zone for all of us.

An incident that happened at our church this past Sunday reminded me of a line from a “classic” Clint Eastwood movie, “Any Which Way You Can.” In the movie, Clint has a pet orangutan named “Clyde” who rides in the passenger seat of his “pick-em-up” truck. In once scene of the movie, Clint and Clyde are stopped at a traffic signal next to a group of bikers. The bikers and Clint exchange some words causing Clint to give Clyde the command, “Right-turn Clyde.” Clyde promptly extends his right arm knocking the whole group of bikers to the ground.

This past Sunday a man named Donald showed up at our church from literally off the streets. Donald had just been released from the prison about 10 miles north of our building. He was on a 30 mile walk to get to Melbourne and a half-way housing program for ex-cons called “C.I.T.A.” Sorry, I don’t know what the letters stand for.

Donald told us that he had passed several churches on his walk south. He said he kept hearing a voice telling him to “turn left” as he passed each church. Donald said he ignored the voice but it kept getting louder as he passed each church. Then when he passed our church he said he couldn’t ignore the voice any longer as it kept saying, “Turn left Donald.” So he came inside during Sunday School. My fellow elder Jeff met him and began to study with him. The first thing he told Jeff through tears was he knew that he needed to be baptized into Christ. He had studied the Bible through on line courses in Prison and didn’t need any convincing on what he needed to do to get right with the Lord.

I was brought into the conversation after services started. I met Donald and Jeff shared his story and their study with me. When we had a moment to ourselves, Jeff told me that chances were we would never see Donald again after services. Sadly, this has been our experience but we both came to the same conclusion almost immediately, this wasn’t our call. The Spirit was working on Donald’s heart and that should be enough for anyone.

Jeff Baptized Donald into Christ shortly thereafter. A good friend of ours, Shannon, gave Donald a ride to Melbourne. I don’t know if we’ll ever see Donald on this side of eternity again. I do know that his “left turn” will make it possible for us to see each other again in Heaven.

You probably have heard the popular country song by Tim McGraw, “Live Like You’re Dying.” In the song, Tim’s Father, the famous baseball pitcher for the N.Y. Mets and the Philadelphia Phillies, Tug McGraw, discovers that he is dying. He devotes his last few days to experiencing things he hadn’t experience in his past and treating people the way he should have treated them in the past as well.

Last night, my wife, our good friends Monty and Sally, and I visited one of our church members, Charles. Charles is dying of pancreatic and liver cancer. And even though Charles didn’t have the strength to sit up in his bed and his pain was being managed by injections of morphine, he seemed to be more “alive” than any of us who came to visit him.

As Charles was talking to us and encouraging us from his death bed, I asked myself, “What should I be doing as I live on this earth before I get to where Charles is, just days away from meeting the Creator of this universe?” I know as a Christian living today, I should be ready to witness to people that come into my life. I know that as I live I should acknowledge the grace God has shown me in the way I live my life. I know that as I live, I should always look to encourage others and appreciate their efforts. I know I should be trying to reconnect with my family.

That’s exactly what I witnessed from a man’s death bed last night. A man who is dying like we’re supposed to live our life. Charles told us that he felt compelled to witness to anyone who he came into contact with. His sweet wife Lenoir told us that Charles was witnessing to the hospital personnel during his stays in the hospital. Now that he was at home under Hospice care, we was sharing his Faith with the people from Hospice. And talk about a man who “sees” the grace of God clearly, Charles has 20/10 vision in the Grace Department.

And that of itself is interesting for Charles is blind. Charles will tell you that he was blind even when he had his sight. Charles says that he was born 2 to 300 years too late. As Jimmy Buffett wrote in a song, he was a modern day pirate smuggling all sorts of things into the U.S. including drugs. Charles was caught and did federal time for his drug offense. He credits the elders of our church for bringing him back to the Lord by visiting him in prison. There’s that final exam thing again.

Charles shared his story with us and how the grace of God has carried him through prison and blindness. As we sat on his death bed expecting to encourage Charles, Charles was encouraging us. He lifted up my work as an elder and how the church had changed for the better. He held my wife’s hand and encouraged her, the wife of an elder. Rarely have I heard such encouraging words since I became an elder.

Finally, Charles spoke about his love for his family and how he was trying to re-connect with (7 kids – some faithful, some not) all of them before he passes from this life. And it was here that it struck me, Charles is dying like he “was” living. He spoke of what he needed to do in the coming weeks. I don’t know if it was him or the morphine talking because Charles only has days to live. But the things that he is doing in his last days I know I should be doing in my living days. I will always remember Charles.

This is the time of year when my students worry about their final exams in their academic classes. Two years ago when my son was in 7th grade, he had an unsettling experience with a final exam. He had just started his final exam in his social studies class when he began to get nervous. He immediately noticed that the exam questions were asking for information that he hadn’t studied for. At first he worried that it was his fault. Perhaps, as many 7th graders often do, his attention had wandered when his social studies teacher was reviewing his class for the final exam? But as he reflected he was sure he had the right study guide and he had studied the correct information for the exam.

He summoned the nerve to go up to his teacher and ask if she could help him with his dilemma. He brought the exam to her and she immediately noticed that she had given him the wrong exam! His experience makes me wonder about our spiritual final exam. If you read Matthew 25, Jesus gives Christians our “final exam.” As he separates the sheep and the goats, he doesn’t ask them about their stands on instrumental music, Lord’s Supper, worship styles, women’s role in the church, or any of the other issues that we in the Churches of Christ tend to argue and divide over. Jesus’ final exam asks did you feed the needy, did you give them water, did you show hospitality to strangers, did you give to the poor, did you visit the sick, and did you visit those that are in prisons?

Maybe like my son a few years ago, we have the wrong exam in our minds on what it means to be a servant in the Kingdom?

I had lunch with our minister and a good friend of mine, Ray, who is one of our deacons. I jokingly referred to us as the “brain trust” of our church. We discussed wanting to streamline our worship services. And as most of us in the church usually do when we get together, we “solved” the problems of needy members and the church at large in our conversation. I wonder how much trouble we can get into when a local church is being “led” by a preacher who is a retired career submariner, an active Sgt. Major in the National Guard who has seem combat action in Afghanistan, and a middle school math teacher? Hopefully we’re “smart’ enough to get out of the way and let the Holy Spirit lead this church.

I received a letter from a former friend of my mine who I played numerous softball games with during the late 70’s and 1980’s. His name is Bill but he was into surfing back then so his nick name was Surfer Joe. During softball games we just called him Joe. Joe went to prison for dealing in cocaine. He was released on parole about a year ago. Joe was placed in a hotel across from our church and that is where we reconnected.

I invited Joe to our services. He was embarrassed about the type of clothes he had to wear. I assured him that our church wasn’t into a fashion show and in fact, we had men who sometimes served on the Lord’s Table wearing shorts. I could tell Joe was still nervous about his attire so we found some members who wore the same size as Joe and they gave him some clothes. My wife and I ended up giving Joe around $500 to help him get started in his new life outside prison. The church allowed him to eat out of our pantry. Joe began to attend services and I had high hopes for Joe. You can probably guess what happened.

Joe’s attendance began to fall off. The calls for help and money kept coming along with excuses. Joe was a 2 time “loser” and when he was pulled over for traffic violation he was incarcerated for another 5 to 7 years. I plan to go visit Joe in prison and I wonder, how does one get out of the toughest prison off all time – the prison of the cycle of sin? I know that Jesus is the ultimate Parole Board but how does one get someone to see the need to be paroled? I wish I had the answer.