West Cocoa Chat

I have been amazed in my almost 47 years how many friends have come and gone in my life. I don’t say that to be negative. To me, new friends add spice to life.
I think it was 3 years ago when Randy first entered my life on the floor of one of the apartments at the Pepperdine Bible Lectures. Randy wanted to "crash" with my good friend Greg and me, sleeping on the floor that week. I’ve now grown to look forward to not only hooking up with Greg at Pepperdine but Randy as well.
Randy and his family (Beth, Madison, and Reese) drove to our home from their vacation resort in Daytona Beach this past Saturday. It was great to get to know his family on a personal level. We decided to take them to the "world’s famous" surf shop, Ron Jon’s in Cocoa Beach. Our trip also served to allow my son to try out his new surfboard. His friend Kyle came with us as well. As we were driving to the beach on the newly re-named "Beach-line," Kyle’s surfboard (only a month old) flew off my rack and landed on the highway behind me. It was a miracle that it didn’t hit a car as well as not being run over by the cars behind me. We were able to back up in the median and retrieve the board before it or us were ran over.
I always knew that Randy was a talented individual but he really excels at strapping surfboards to moving vehicles! Although Kyle’s surfboard was dinged up, it didn’t come out of the strap again.
We arrived at Ron Jon’s next. His family along with Barbara and me perused the store while the boys walked to the beach. We spent about 30 minutes inside Ron Jon’s and then drove over to the beach. I’ve always said that beach would be a nicer place if you didn’t have to put up with the sand and the salt.
We drove home about an hour later to shower off "the beach." My wife made the call to take Randy and his family to Florida Seafood Restaurant. It was the right call. We called ahead to put our name on the "Wait list." By the time we arrived we were immediately seated and served. Our good friend Chuck and his family also joined us swelling our ranks to 10. There was a guy making balloons for the kids. He made a balloon "parrot" for Madison and Reese chose a snail. Sounds like Reese might make a good "elder" one-day.
We went home for some of my wife’s world famous bread pudding. I didn’t know that Randy was quite the bread pudding connoisseur. He informed us that Barb’s bread pudding was the best he had ever had. I told him the story about her bread pudding going for $50 at a desert auction that we held at the church to help our youth.
We hated to see Randy, Beth, Madison, and Reese leave our humble West Cocoa home. They drove back to Daytona Beach that night.
It’s good to have another family added to our ring of friends.

I need some input if you can help. We tried something different at Central yesterday during the Lord’s Supper. As the men passed out the bread and the wine (southern for grape juice) we played a C.D. of an acapella song. Most of the comments afterwards were positive but we had a few negative ones as well.
The folks who were upset actually believe that we disrupted our communion service with the playing of the tape. Furthermore, they believe that our usual method of observing the Lord’s Supper has been handed down since the first century, never mind the air-conditioned building and some of our guys wearing ties. (that’s another blog.)
I have a question. Are any of you aware (through personal experience or reading) of how our method of observing the Lord’s Supper came about? Maybe you have personal memories that differ from the guys standing behind a table in the front of the building. If you do, please comment. I’m curious. Thanks.

This past Saturday was our first “work day” at the high school baseball field. The field and surrounding grounds were in bad shape due to weeks of neglect. After fighting with 2 weed-whackers and then switching over to an edger for a couple of hours, I took a break under a shade tree. Justin’s Mother was also taking a break as well. Justin is a returning senior pitcher on my son’s team. As his junior season started last year, he was being courted by the University of Miami and several other schools.

In one of the first games last year, Justin tore a tendon in his throwing arm. When a MRI confirmed his injury, the famous (for those who follow baseball) “Tommy John” surgery was recommended. Those of us who knew Justin were of the opinion that if any young man could come back from such a surgery to regain his former abilities it would be Justin. His work ethic was well known throughout our local “baseball community.”

But even the strong have their weak moments. Justin’s Mother told me that when they came home from the doctor who had just told him that he wouldn’t be able to throw until April 06, Justin was depressed. She said that he went into his bedroom, flopped on the bed and proclaimed to her “this is me.” Justin couldn’t stand the thought of his teammates playing a season without him.

The next day happened to be “Opening Day” for our local Little League. The high school team by tradition lines up on the 3rd base line and “welcomes” each team into the new season. When Justin didn’t show up at the Little League Field, the boys went to his mother to ask her where he was. When the players found out that Justin was depressed and in his bed they made a beeline for his home.

His Mom said the boys told Justin that he was still part of the team and they would not allow him to sulk and give up. She said that one act motivated Justin to go through with the surgery and stay vigilant with his rehab.

Oh, you remember the April 06 date the doctors gave Justin as to when he would be able to throw again. This past Saturday was August 20th. No big deal to you and me but it was to Justin. You see, after we had cleaned up the pitcher’s bull-pen, Justin threw for the first time since his surgery. Keep the boy in your prayers.

About 19 years ago my memories with Kaley began "upside down." Kaley is the daughter of our good friends, next door neighbors, and brother and sister in Christ - Monty and Sally. 19 years ago Barbara and I were living in a 12 X 50 security trailer for our local church. Kaley was just a couple of month old when we invited Monty and Sally over for their first dinner at our trailer with their new baby. At one point during the evening, I was lying on the floor playing with Kaley. I was holding her upside down over my mouth at one point. Sally started to warn me about that particular position not being the best since she had just breast fed Kaley. It was too late. As I was laughing and carrying on with my mouth wide open, Kaley spit up and the full contents went into my opened big mouth before I could close it. Kaley has always held a special place in my heart but not necessarily in my stomach.

Tonight, 19 years later, I feel like my world is "upside down" again. Kaley is leaving for college tomorrow. Kaley isn't my daughter and I have that sick feeling in my stomach. Where did the time go? Greg, you have my admiration in the way you've handled seeing your little girl head off to college.


The Lord knew that I needed some soothing. When I came home from Monty’s, I found Steven playing his guitar. He had figured out by ear (you’d be proud of him Greg) how to play the Zoe song from Psalm 3:3, "Thou O Lord art a shield about me."
I will say good-bye to my son in 2 years if he goes away to college. How did you parents out there get through it?

As I said in an earlier entry, I am now completing my 25th year teaching middle school math. I have had many memorable moments that I wish I had written down in some kind of a journal. The good ones are still in my memory but I had something happen today in one of my classes that is a first for me.

My Pre-Algebra students are taking their first test of the year. As with any first time event that takes place in my classroom (and due to the fact that I’m somewhat anal) I try to give numerous details so as to set the tone for the rest of the year. This first test was no exception. Some of those details would have been:
1. On Monday, students wrote “Test” in their agendas for Thursday.
2. I posted the same on our school website.
3. Students took notes throughout the week on the concepts that would be tested.
4. The homework covered the type of problems that would appear on the test.
5. Each “Problem of the Day” (P.O.D.) at the beginning of each class came from one of the tested concepts.
6. On the day of the test I gave my students a multi-part “P.O.D.” that contained problems like the ones that would appear on the test.
7. On the day of the test I told my students that the “review homework” we were going over at the beginning of class would help them with problems that would appear on the test.
8. As I passed out my test materials I explained my testing procedure.

Is that enough detail? I would have thought so. Anyway, as the test was under way I noticed that “Johnny” (names have been changed to protect the ignorant, I mean innocent) was sitting in the idle mode with seemingly no cares in the world. I walked over to “Johnny” and asked him why he wasn’t working on the test? He looked at me with a surprised look and asked, “Does this count for a grade?”

Kids, you’ve got to love them.

As a follow up to my last blog (and trying to do the Christian thing) I contacted my 73 year old friend (Hy) to find out more about his "resignation" from the all important (my apologies to my "Pulpit friends") ministry of "announcements." Having been given a day to think about the events of this past Sunday he (and I) had mellowed somewhat. He still didn’t want to use our hand-held mic as well as come out from around our huge (archaic) podium and stand on the same level with the pews when making announcements. He didn’t object to the idea he just said that the thought made him uncomfortable. He was afraid that if he tried such a technique he would come across as a fake.
Having given this situation some thought as well, I had come to the conclusion that there had to be a way for our Deacon of Worship to accomplish what he was trying to do as well as use Hy. Being the college graduate (or as my Uncle from Kentucky would jokingly say, "I are one.") that I am, I came up with a "creative" solution. We would compromise for the sake of a Brother in Christ. I asked Hy to agree to continue to do the announcements along with 3 other men who would take turns, and to do them in the manner that he was most comfortable with. Makes me want to type (I guess I just did) "I are smart." Or perhaps I’m just smart enough to listen to the Holy Spirit speaking to my heart on how to treat a Brother.
I hope what we accomplished with the help of the Holy Spirit, was our continued movement to be a more seeker-friendly church as well as encouraging a 73 year old Christian who still wants to do his part in the Kingdom.

I had one of those Sundays yesterday that makes people in “leadership” positions in any church long for the days of being “just” a member. Our church is taking baby steps towards moving away from a “high church” / traditional model. One of those baby steps is occurring in the “all-important” ministry of announcements. Our Deacon of Worship is attempting to make the announcements inviting to visitors by being warm and funny as well as setting the tone for our worship service at the conclusion of the standard church announcements.

One of the men that takes a turn at announcements was a close personal friend on my departed Father. This man knew me as a child. He was asked by our Deacon of Worship to come down off our raised platform and stand among the congregation holding a “hand-held” mic. He summarily resigned from making announcements and then made a bee-line for me, the nearest elder at hand. He told me that he was 73 years old and he wasn’t about to change how he did announcements.

If anyone is browsing this blog and you happen to be of the “older (I’m almost 47) persuasion,” I would appreciate the answer to a question. Is there any hope of me still being “coach-able” at an older age should the Lord grant me many more years on this Earth? Maybe I’m just from another planet (I was accused of this when I made a controversial call at the end of a basketball game I was officiating some years ago) but it just seemed to me that asking one to change his location to make announcements wasn’t that big a deal? I was always taught that you respected and worked with the leadership of any organization when they asked you to “tweak” something you were doing to enhance it’s performance.

We have “older folks” at our church that are flexible as well as congenial. Are they an aberration of the human species and I ask this not to be sarcastic. I just honestly want to know if there’s any hope for me, personally, to remain coach-able or will old age set in on me as well causing me to find some tradition(s) that I will hold on to with all the vigor of a pit-bulldog.

Forgive me for borrowing President Bush’s phrase for the opening stages of The War for Iraqi Freedom. First for the "awe;" my son Steven is desperately wanting to make the varsity baseball team at our local high school. I was told by one of the assistant coaches this past season that Steven (who was a freshman this past year) came very close to making the varsity squad. The only holdback according to this coach was his small size. As someone once said, you can’t coach size.
Now Steven is a sophomore about ready to begin winter conditioning. He’s been conditioning on his own with a little (very little) help from Dad. This is the part of his personality that at times inspires awe in me. When he sets his mind to something he is a very determine individual. Take today for instance; we had planned to go to the batting cages again (yes Randy, Walker would have been back on the mound) but we were rained out. So when we arrived home, Steven took out his bat and took 100 swings with it.
Now for the "shock;" my son decided he needed some pitching practice so he improvised a backstop complete with a target. He threw 60 pitches at his "target" and was so impressed with his ingenuity he wanted to share his creation with me. When I walked outside I discovered my son’s invention was our 6 foot step ladder propping up one of our better pieces of luggage! You might say that I was experiencing shock and awe at the same time. I asked him why he choose the luggage as his target. He looked at me incredulously as he pointed out that the luggage was about the same height of a squatting catcher and that the upper outside pocket formed (in his eyes) an almost perfect strike zone. Silly me. A big part of me wanted to offer advice and correct him or at least protect our luggage for 80mph fastballs. I will credit to the Holy Spirit for allowing me to listen to the voice inside that said praise your son for his spirit and determination. I wonder if "Samsonite" (not sure on the spelling) needs an idea for a luggage commercial?

Our teens (including #1 son) went to a neighboring congregation last night to support a youth rally they were holding. This church is mostly make up of African Americans. We have held several joint ventures together during the past year and have built a good relationship.

We knew our kids would be a little later than normal because their Wednesday night service didn’t start until 7:30 whereas vs. our 7pm start. A little later turned out to be 9:45 pm on a school night rather than the usual 8:15pm. Most of our parents were getting anxious, O.K., put out as the night drew on. Calls to cell phones went straight to voice mails because our kids (unlike a lot of us parents) were courteous enough to turn their cell phones off once the service started. I tried to put a “pretty face” on this picture to our parents by theorizing that the Fiske Blvd. folks were so excited to have our kids supporting their effort that they were enjoying the time of worship together and had forgotten about the time. As with most of my “conflict resolution” efforts most people were not buying into to my “happy face” concerning the lateness of our youth.

To make a long blog a shorter blog, when our kids returned home our Youth Minister told us that the speaker was 30 minutes late and he had a 3 scripture / 9 point sermon. Does this sound like Randy or “Best Buy Greg?” Anyway, here’s my point; as we were standing in the parking lot, parents and teens, I observed two distinctive groups. One group was most of the parents who were complaining (most nicely) about the lateness of the evening. The second group was our kids who were talking to one another about their time at our sister congregation and how they couldn’t wait to go back again! I wonder which group was closer to mind set that God wants us to have. What was the first part of the “Toy R Us” slogan, “I don’t want to “grow up.”

I’m calling my 15 year old son Steven, “the patient” because he has contracted the same “sickness” that his Uncle Greg has, an abnormal lust for guitars. Actually it warms my heart to see Steven so taken to a musical instrument that his Uncle Greg uses to bless others as well. Steven has only had 7 lessons but already he is beginning to “make up songs.” He played one of those songs last night for Barbara and me. The best part was when he told us that “he could easily make a Christian song out of it.” It’s always been my prayer that Steven’s music would not only lead him to a closer walk with the Lord but like his Uncle “Typhoid” Greg, he would one day use it to bless and encourage others. He did that last night for his mother and me.

If music soothes the savage heart then Steven’s music last night soothe my aching arm. Steven isn’t playing a fall sport this year so I took him down to our local Little League Field batting cage. I want his “batting eye” to stay sharp until the baseball team starts conditioning in a month or so. That’s right my northern friends, we play and practice baseball in Florida almost year round.

Being in the batting cage at the Little League field with my son brought back a lot of memories. We were the only ones in the cage and there wasn’t anyone on any of the four fields. Yet I could hear all the voices of the kids that I had coached, the All Star Teams that I had helped with, and the different parents that I had coached with since Steven was eight. Most of the memories were good especially the summer of Steven’s 10th year when our 9 and 10 team came within 2 games of winning the State Championship. And there was the team Steven was on when he was 12 that lost only one game and went on to win the County Championship. Steven pitched and played shortstop on that team.

But most of all it was just good to be in the cage with my son who is closer to leaving my home and influence than he is to all of those memories that I just mentioned. I threw about 200 pitches to him as well taking the time to talk to him about baseball and life in general.

If you have little ones, hang on to those times for as long as you can because before you know it, they’ll be saying things to you like, “Come on Dad, can’t you throw any faster.”

In less than two days I will welcome my 25th group of students to my 7th grade Pre-Algebra classes. It is hard to believe that both my wife and I will have a quarter century worth of experience by the end of this school year. I look forward to the challenges a new group of students will bring especially in this age of educational accountability.
I have mixed emotions (Like the proverbial son who witnessed his mother-in-law driving over a cliff in his brand new Hummer.) about this age of accountability in education. For me personally I could say that I have been somewhat successful. I could point to my statistics of the last 2 years that show that 90 and 98% of my students have scored at Level 3 or above respectively (Level 5 being the highest) as well as having made an "Annual Learning Gain" as designated by President Bush’s "No Child Left Behind" program.
But I worry about my students who didn’t score at Level 3 or make an "ALG." What will become of them next year and what kind of future do they have in store for them? Is there a place in our school system for compassion and hope or will we continue to live and die by test scores?
I ask you to pray for my students as well as myself. Pray that I can find that balance between holding my students accountable and showing that there is a place for compassion and perhaps even a bit of fun in the upcoming year.
I also ask that you pray for my son Steven who is a good student but struggles with the pressure of performing on "high stakes" tests. Thank you for those who have prayed for him in the past because his test scores have come up for the last 3 years in a row and we certainly give God the praise for this. For those of you who still have kids in school I will keep them in my prayers. Thanks.

My wife started a personal “ministry” about a month ago. She has taken it upon herself to organize Wednesday night dinners at our church. She serves dinner at 6pm in our Fellowship Hall for $3, $2 kids 9 and under. We have seen an increase in our Wednesday night attendance due to families having this option.
Part of last night’s meal was 100 pieces of fried chicken from Wal-Mart. Barbara was standing in line at our local Wal-Mart when a thunderstorm knocked out the power. All the registers went down and she ended up standing in line for about an hour with 100 pieces of good old fried chicken. It was about 5:30 when she started to panic and she prayed for the Lord to help her with this chicken. I don’t know if you can find a Biblical precedent to pray for southern fried chicken but in this case the faith of my lovely wife was rewarded.

She saw a manager whose child she taught last year. She quickly got her attention and explained her dilemma. The manager copied the bar code of the chicken (good thing they don’t bar code each individual breast and leg) and allowed my wife to leave with the poultry in question. A good piece of chicken was had by all thanks to the answered poultry prayer of my wife.

Yesterday was our (mine and Barb’s) first day back to school for the first day of “Pre-Planning.” My good friend and next door neighbor Monty has a tradition that he uses to mark this occasion. For some reason we always seem to have Monty and his wife Sally over the Sunday night before we have to report back to work. Both of us having been off the entire summer seems to irk Monty just a little each year. So each year at this time Monty always informs us that he is coming over on Sunday night and he is going to stay until Mid-night and then take the next day off so he can gloat over the fact that these 2 school teacher had to report back to school. The ironic thing is now that all of us are older, (if you consider mid-40’s old) none of us including Monty can’t stay up past 10pm on the night before work. In fact, Monty and Sally went home around 9:30 that night.
So we’re back to work and the kiddos start back in a few days and the annual cycle of school starts once again. Keep up in your prayers.