West Cocoa Chat

Wow, am I glad that is over with. I switched my blog to the "new and improved" version and I thought it would never get switched, changed, transformed, or what ever takes hours in our computer driven age. Speaking of things that took too long to get over, how about this past College Football Season? Especially for this FSU Seminole fan. We went into Wednesday's Emerald Bowl with a record of 6 and 6. For Seminole fans this has been a season of lackluster offensive performances as well as being thumped in our house by Wake Forest. Wake Forest! Say it ain’t so. Then there’s “Saint Bobby.”

First, thanks for all the comments concerning the movie "We Are Marshall." If you haven't seen the movie yet, a very young Bobby Bowden who at the time is the head coach of West Virginia University, extends some kindness to the new Coach of Marshall that most coaches in my opinion would never have. Again, a must see movie and it will give you some appreciation for the "Head Nole." Now we fast forward to 2006:

Can you say, "Emerald Bowl Champions.” Yes, we crushed the team that defeated USC 44 – 27! We're king of the "nut (thats Emerald nuts) world." The Noles displayed more offense in that game than they had in their 3 previous games combined! In fact, if one of our wide receivers doesn’t step out of bounds on the way to the end zone, the Florida Gators might not be playing Ohio State on January 8th.

So Bobby, this blog is for you. Perhaps you’re not done yet and with all the talent coming back next year along with a new offensive coordinator. Little known fact about the Seminole Indian Tribe:
They were the only Indian Tribe that never surrendered to the United State Government.

I’ve been away for a few days as we’ve celebrated the Holiday Season. I hope everyone had a joyous time with their families. We’re still awaiting word from Randy concerning his kidney stones. Unfortunately Randy’s timing was about as good as some folks near our home in Lake and Volusia Counties here in Central Florida. We had a line of showers move through yesterday which spawned several tornadoes. Many folks lost their homes and several thousand lost power. We lift them up in prayer for this will be a Christmas that many of them we’ll never forget.

Of course one of the many facets of this time of year is the batch of new movies that Hollywood throws at us. We went last night and saw what I believe to be one of the best and most powerful movies I’ve seen lately, “We Are Marshall.” The movie tells the story of the 1970 crash of a Southern Airlines jet that kills all 75 aboard including most of the Marshall University’s Football Team, coaches, athletic staff, boosters, parents, and cheerleaders. This story is more than just a football story and it doesn’t completely wrap up into a nice silver lining because it is a true story.

I hope you get the chance to see the movie.

“Timing” is an interesting concept. Having a son who is in love with baseball I’m somewhat familiar with the concept. The difference between whiffing on a pitch or hitting a hard line drive down the line for a double does not necessarily depend on (although at times it doesn’t hurt) strength as it does getting the bat through the zone and making contact with the ball on the sweet part of the bat.

I remember a hitting lesson Rusty Kuntz (MLB Outfielder – played with the Tigers in 84, game winning hit in a World Series Game – now a MLB 1st Base Coach) gave my son’s AAU Team when he was 10 and playing with his son. He had all of the boys stand parallel to a fence with their bats on or near their shoulder. When he instructed them to swing each one hit the fence which prevented them from completing their swing. Then he had them all elevate their bats so they were in a raised position. Standing in their same spots each boy was able to swing the bat w/o hitting the fence. It was his way of showing them that a shorter swing arc means getting the bat into and through the zone quicker – timing.

I don’t know who’s timing was worse the other day, the (pardon me while I go NBA for a moment) Knicks or the Nuggets. Most of you have probably seen video tape of the brawl that took place the other night resulting in all 10 starters being ejected with the League’s leading scorer, Carmello Anthony receiving a 15 game suspension.

The timing involved here consisted of the Nuggets being up by 20 points with 2 minutes left to go and all 5 of their starters still on the floor, aggressively attacking the basket almost at will. The Knick’s Coach, Isaiah Thomas, a former member of the “infamous” (unless you’re a Piston fan) “Bad Boy” Detroit Piston teams who won a couple of NBA Championships while knocking anyone who attacked the (including “Air Jordan” – anyone remember “The Jordan Rules?”) basket to the floor in the process. Flash forward to 2006 with “Zeke” (Isaiah’s nickname) now a coach, getting his face rubbed in it and apparently telling his team, “No more lay-ups or dunks.” In other words, any Nugget driving to the hoop gets a one way ticket to the Stands.

Well they did and it happened. I liked what one New York reporter wrote. He placed the blame fully on the Nuggets’ Coach, George Karl. He wrote that by having his starters on the floor with 2 minutes left and a 20 point lead, he forced “Zeke” into the role of “Colonel Jessep” (remember Jack Nicholson in the movie “A Few Good Men”) ordering the “Code Red.” Why do I have this urge to yell out, “You can’t handle the truth!” Sorry, digressing again. Again, everything was about timing although this really isn’t good timing.

Then there was Monday in our household. My son, a junior in high school, came home in a grouchy mood. I guess semester exams would make anyone grouchy. His frustration was over more than exams. He continually fights the fight that I wished in some ways I had to fight more for it would strengthen my faith. You see, he is a Christian young man in an environment that labels him at times, an outsider. He has always been able to mix well with all kids and being an athlete on the baseball team certainly opens some doors.

But for the most part he is the only kid on the team trying to live a life that would honor Jesus. It’s tough because we all need to belong to something. He is O.K. on Wednesdays and Sundays because he has our youth group to encourage him. The other days he feels alone at times.

So he came home in that mood, me against the world and is it worth it. Then his Uncle Greg (Stoogelover) and wanted to talk guitars and amps. His face lit up, he laughed, and stayed on the phone for a record amount of time. He also had a couple of cards from 2 students who attend Lipscomb University who recently visited with our youth group. I’m glad Steven wants to go to a Christian College but it was Greg’s phone call that turned the tide of that day.

You’ll never know Greg how much that phone call and your conversation with Steven means to me. You brightened his day. You had terrific timing. Seems to me the Apostle Paul said something about timing? I’ll leave you with the best example of timing on this side of eternity:

Romans 5:6 - You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7 Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. 8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

I guess one of the dangers of being a minister or in church leadership is the giving of so much time and energy to “the flock” that you don’t have the same (insert Star Trek Scotty voice: “Captain, I don’t have the power!”) amount of focus or energy for your family. I did a blog version of this yesterday. How could I write about the weekend God blessed our church with without writing about my wife’s (previously referred to as a “fellowshipping machine by moi) efforts this past Saturday night at our Church Christmas Party.

But first, a little history. Back in the 80’s (or many pounds and hairs ago) my Father was the Deacon of Fellowship at our church. The church we were attending had a history of hosting Christmas Parties in the homes of volunteers but the numbers were growing while the homes were remaining the same size. So my Dad, being the ex-First Sergeant and good old southern boy that he was, took the bull (or in this case, the party) by the horns and decided we needed to use our church’s multi-purpose auditorium to accommodate the numbers. Then he asked my wife, Barb, to provide the sides if he would purchase the meat. The next year Barb went to “full service” cooking the entire meal. By the time we left that church I was a deacon. I guess there’s a correlation there, anyway:

Now here’s the funny part and feel free to heap hot coals or cold water upon my head. When we arrived at Central I had a game plan. My defense consisted of “laying low” and waiting for a couple of years to get to know this church. Then after I knew everyone if I was fulfilling a ministry that the church recognized as needing a deacon, I would gladly accept. My offense consisted of continuing to direct a week of Bible Camp as well as staying involved with my son and his new youth group.

Can somebody say, “Busted?” Within a matter of months I was being considered as a deacon. So much for my game plan. One of the first things we did was to organize a Church Christmas Party for Central. We were nervous wanting everything to be perfect for our new church family. The Lord blessed and everything came off well.

Fast forward to just this past weekend. We had the “preparation day” from “Hades” on Saturday. Nothing went right up to the point where we realized that the temperature on the prime rib was at 180 rather than our desired 150 – 160. We were convinced that we had created a new dish, “Prime Rib Jerky.” When we arrived at church and started cutting the meat, we were surprised to see it still juicy and quite tasty.

I don’t know if God has “Food Angels” (apologies to my good friend Mike O’Neal who taught a class on “Angels” at last year’s Pepperdine Lectures – he would scold me at this point) or answers prayers about food but nonetheless, we gave Him the Glory.

Our gift exchange game went well and surprisingly fast considering our numbers. We tried to have someone “on deck” as someone was up choosing a gift, opening it, or “stealing” someone else’s. The hot item of the night, some Christmas pillows! Who would have “thunk” it? My good friend and fellow West Cocoa neighbor, Monty, who had a high number, gave me his insurance card when it was his turn and proudly announced, “I’m giving Cecil my “Man Card.” He “stole” the Christmas Pillows for his wife.

I’m so glad God gave Barbara to me to be my wife. I would be less than half the man without her. The evening turned out great largely due to her efforts.

May God bless you guys.

First, let me say there are no plans in the immediate future to build a Pub at our church. BTW – Wouldn’t it be wonderful if those who have a tendency to copy bits and pieces of my blog to use as gossip would copy that first sentence and make statements like, “You see, he or they, aren’t going off the deep end like I told you before." Can you have such a thing as “positive gossip?” Sorry, I digress.

Second, I thank you for all of the entries for naming “our not soon to be built” church Pub. I liked Greg’s “Shepherd Spring” and Judy’s “Home of Non-Alcoholics Anonymous." But with out a doubt we have to give it up to Justin’s, “Good News, Good Brews.” In fact, Justin’s title was so catchy that the Puckster and Bobby want to actually run the place. If we ever build such a place would you guys were one of those cool hats like the one Whoopie Goldberb wore as the bartender on “Star Trek Next Generation.”

Late breaking news: I, I mean "the Judges" didn't see Dee's entry of "Fire and Brimstone." They agreed that not only is it a good entry, it would be a great place to discuss some of those "hot" topics.

Next, let me encourage you visit one of our members who has started blogging at http://lcocoabeachbum.blogspot.com/
Curt is a great guy and I think you’ll enjoy his blog.

I believe in the history of all churches, there are certain events (both good and bad) that occur that can be markers or turning points in a church. I remember growing up in a small, conservative, “country” Baptist church. One day a man got up and played a guitar during the service. I didn’t understand what all of the hullabaloo was about but I was aware of enough adult conversations going on around me to know that a piano and organ were O.K. but a guitar was (sorry Greg, Randy, Keith, and Patrick) considered a “worldly instrument.” That day was certainly a turning point for that church.

I believe we had one of those turning points at Central yesterday. Our kids presented a play they had been working on called “The Big, Big, Story.” Our service was centered on the true meaning of Christmas as well as their play. Our kids were nothing short of spectacular. I told their leaders, Trey, Kathy, Elisha, and Dusty that I had seen some high school productions that were not as well coordinated as what 20 of our elementary school kids pulled off yesterday.

Our church is a young church and the future certainly looks bright with the continued blessing of God through the efforts of involved parents and those who love children.

I know this is a weird time of year to do a post about Bible Camp but then I’m a weird kind of guy. This part of my post was prompted by a conversation I had with my son (or as Brady termed, “Cecil's blog cash cow”) the other day. For some reason we were talking about our upcoming Bible Camp. Steven will be 17 when he goes to Camp this year and yet it will be his 18th straight year at Camp. How’s that for a math problem? It’s easily solved when you realize his first year at camp was at the tender age of 3 weeks. I still have fond memories of Steven sleeping in a very loud Mess Hall full of very loud teens. At age 16 he can still pull off this amazing feat but it’s probably due to a standard camp bedtime of 3am (or later) with a wakeup up call around 7:30am. Oh to be young (and as my West Cocoa would add – “and dumb”) again.

In the course of our conversation Steven asked me if he could do an “evening devo” this year. For some reason my mind did a flash back (cue the theme from the 70’s series “Kung Fu”) to a time at Camp when Steven was 4 or 5. It was late at night and the campers had been sent to their cabins for their evening devos. Steven was staying in the “Director’s Pad” (as Greg, the Puckster, and I used to refer to it) with me. I remember walking up the stairs with him in tow. I think I had taught the main lesson that day as well as lead the evening devo. As we were going up the stairs I remember Steven asking me, “Dad, are you a preacher?”

There was a part of me that felt a little pride at my young son’s question. Camp and teaching kids about Christ have been a big part of our lives and I’ve always prayed that Steven would one day come back as a counselor and give back to the Camp that has given him so much. His question the other day was the beginning of an answer to that prayer.

I’ll add this from yesterday’s post –
I mention how supposedly Benjamin Franklin (according to one of my High School History teachers) was instrumental in saving the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia buy opening his nearby Pub to the delegates. My good friend Greg commented that having a Pub at a church might benefit (remember, this is tongue in cheek stuff to those who copy bits and pieces of this blog to use as ammunition to attack myself or our church) church leadership.

Now I’ve heard of some unique things housed in a church such as tattoo parlors and bistros. So here’s my question:

If a church decided to have a Pub on it’s property, what in the world would you name it? Feel free to fire away.

Have a great weekend family.

Several months ago, Mike Cope posted a blog on “the Food Ladies.” He spoke about the ladies that every church seems to have whose primary mission is to make sure food, both in mass quantities and quality, is always present during a church function. They are the unsung heroes of a church.

I don’t know how accurate this is but I remember one of my History Teachers speaking of Benjamin Franklin’s main contribution to the Constitutional Convention – a local pub where the delegates would adjourn to escape the heat of a Philadelphia (cue of Elton John’s “Philadelphia Freedom”) summer. It was supposedly in Ben’s Pub that most of the compromises and the body of our Nation’s Constitution took it’s form. I wonder how much of the church’s business, ministry, and fellowship has taken place in the sight of food prepared and served by a church’s “food ladies?”

I can proudly say that my wife is a “Food Lady.” For many years now, first at a neighboring church and now here at Central, she has prepared our Church’s Adult Christmas Party meal. The usual faire consists of a choice between Prime (stuffed with garlic) Rib or the “Outback Restaurant’s” version of Alice Springs Chicken. These are tough choices for yours truly but usually I go with the Alice Springs Chicken because I know we’re going to do another Prime Rib at Christmas.

Any way, our Christmas Party is this coming Saturday and we’ll begin the preparations tonight. I wanted to take my hat off to a woman that I love and admire and who would have none of what I am doing. She is a true servant who abhors attention from her service but there are just times you need to recognize the extraordinary people in your life. I just happen to be lucky and married to one of mine.

Have a great day family.

There are times in the life of a church when things seem to just click. You walk away from a conversation, congregational worship, life group meeting, or a phone call and you can feel the Holy Spirit working in the lives of the church. If you wanted to throw a sports term in it would be tantamount to being “in the zone.”

My mind goes to an NBA Final in which Michael Jordan hit six or seven “3-point shots” in one game. I remember at one point Jordan looked over at the T.V. Announcers, sheepishly smiling and shrugging his shoulders in almost embarrassment at how easily the “3’s” were falling. My son Steven had that 4 for 4 game earlier this Fall with a pair of doubles. He said the baseball looked as big as a basketball.

That’s how this past Sunday felt at our church. It started off with our first set of songs. As we were standing and singing, one of our worship leaders who has been away since August undergoing training to become an Air Force “P.J.,” suddenly appeared off to the side with a mic singing the tenor part. Paul wasn’t expected back in town until just before Christmas. His wife who is a bit short didn’t notice him at first. Then when Paul walked to the top of our “stage area” it hit her. At first she said to herself, “That’s Paul leading singing. That’s Paul leading singing.” Then it hit her and she burst out, “That’s Paul leading singing!” She ran up to him and gave him one of those hugs that all men and women deserve who spend time away from their families serving our country. There wasn’t a dry eye in the auditorium.

Then we had the children of our church give us a preview of a play they are going to present called “The Big, Big, Story.” This is where I’ll make the disclaimer that when your church is in that “zone” it doesn’t necessarily mean (my opinion) everything comes off technically correct. It wouldn’t be “family” if that were so.

Any way, our tech guy didn’t know that the children were going to sing with a C.D. so it took a few minutes to cue it up. In the mean time we had about 25 kids on stage who were nervously twitching until one of them said loud enough for the mic to pick up, “Any day now!” It broke everyone up. I love kids being involved in the worship for it lets your church know that it is alive!

Our preacher Don delivered a great message on the true meaning of Christmas. It is so easy to get over whelmed by all the details of the Holidays that you miss celebrating Jesus.

Our life group was a blessing as always. I’m so proud of my good friend Chuck (we fondly refer to him as “the Chuckster”) and the way in which he has stepped up to be the facilitator of our group. He and his wife Lee make a great team.

Then there was tonight’s phone call to one of our members. Their young son had been very ill and at one point had been diagnosed with food poisoning. They had to take a couple of trips to the ER but he is doing better now. I loved how the father ended our conversation. He thanked me for calling and then he said, “You know Cecil, you don’t realize just how fortunate we are to have a church like ours until your family faces a crisis like the one we had this past week.”

Our church isn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I think God for it. Forgive me for bragging just a bit. Have a good day family.

“I’m a hacked off kind of guy.” I heard these words from one of Greg’s good friends while he (not Greg) was teaching a Sunday School Class. I fell in love (in a “how “bout” them Chicago Bears sort of way) with Greg’s friend when he uttered that phrase during class.

I guess you could say I’m a “hacked off kind of guy” since I’ve been coughing my head off for the last 3 weeks. I finally relented from my wife’s constant assault on my diagnosis skills and went to the Doctor yesterday. Once my rib cage started to hurt like a bad scene from WWF Wrestling I knew I needed to go not to mention the fact that moi is considered to be the “Clark Griswald” of our neighborhood and I have yet to find the energy to put up one strand of lights on the old abode yet.

I had the last appointment at 4 yesterday. I was taken back to the examining room at 5. This gave me one hour to contemplate the dynamics of quantum mechanics, play around with a little fracto-geometry, and come to the realization that I really need some help with my golf game after reading the same edition of “Golf Digest” several times. BTW – I love my Doctor. He is a really nice guy that will actually take some (as must have been practicing yesterday) time to talk to you. After listening to my lungs and sob story about being unable to run a 4 minute mile, he ordered up a round of x-rays and an EKG or an EEG. It’s the one us hairy guys dread because it brings up one of those questions that has plague mankind (or those of us who are a little closer to the “missing link” than others) for eons; do we shave this hairy rascal or tape him up and have some fun?

The answer from the tech for me yesterday was, we shall “tapeth thy chest.” Of course, on the first go around several electrodes were not reading (which can make one a bit nervous) so the solution, let’s add more tape! “Sir, are you allergic to duct tape?” “Just the blue kind Ma’m.”

Any way, more tape was added, a successful reading was had, and then I proceeded to rip all of the belt loops out of my pants as I was “de-taped” by the tech that seem to draw delight by showing the amount of hair that each piece of tape contained as it was ripped from my body.

The good news is my chest now looks like a map of the 7 continents as well as the “EE-thing” came out normal. The bad news is I have bronchitis with a possible touch of pneumonia. I am feeling a little better today after a night and a morning of taking some antibiotics.

So there you have it hair fans. Remember, for this boy if the question of tape or shave comes again, as for me and my chest, we will serve the blade.

First, let me welcome Patrick Mead to our "blog church." Patrick ministers to a church in Michigan. Perhaps as a Floridian I should offer my condolences to my fellow Brother in Michigan. Go Gators. Yes, I’m a Nole but I’ll support the Gators to carry the flag for our great State.

Have you ever wondered (or worried) that God was getting you ready for a challenge in your life by giving you the same lesson of life, over and over again? This thought crossed my mind following our services today. In my previous post I wrote about one of our sisters sharing a lesson on peace with me. The Lord brought that lesson to me again today.

We had been praying for a couple at our church that just lost one of their two Grandchildren to a tragic car accident at the age of 21. Their Grandson lived up north so they had been away for a few days while he hung on to life following the accident but eventually he passed away. I spoke to the Grandma with the intent (once again) to encourage and share my condolences.

To my surprise she was almost “radiant” if you can use that word in the context of grief. This sweet sister told me that while her and her husband had been with their family she felt a strange “peace.” She said she knew people from our church were lifting them up in prayer and she said at times she could almost feel the arms of Jesus wrapping around her. Then she said something that I’ve rarely heard said with such enthusiasm, especially in the context of grief. She smiled and said, “We are so fortunate to have such a loving and caring church.”

Then she shared with me that her daughter who had never been baptized into Christ, was in services today and had decided to put Christ on in baptism. Praise God! I know I’ve over used this phrase today so just bare with me; in the context of grief, joy and life were bursting forth. I felt like such a student in the presence of this dear sister.

As I was driving home listening to our local Contemporary Christian station, the Tree63 song, “Blessed Be Your Name” was playing. These lyrics will take on new meaning for me:

Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name when I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name

Every blessing You pour out I’ll turn back to praise
And when the darkness closes in
Lord Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name when the sun’s shining down on me
When the world’s “all as it should be”
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name