October 22, 2008

I suppose I'm not always a big fan of hard work. Given the choice, I would rather do something less strenuous, such as watching TV. Or reading a book. Or most anything else other than what needs to be done.

Back when we first built our horse pasture fence, we cut down cedar trees and used them as the wooden posts at the corners and such. Those cedars will last forever, we were told. As it turns out, we had received some bad advice. The cedar posts are beginning to rot, and some of them are even breaking off at the ground.

A few years later when we put up a new fence to expand the pasture, we had already figured out that cedar trees weren't the way to go. We could tell that they might not last forever. And besides that, it was a good bit of work to go find trees that were the right size, cut them down, cut all the branches off, and then get them to where we needed them. It had saved us a little money the first time around, but we decided to just go and buy treated posts and save some time. And hopefully to avoid having to replace them in the near future.

Those newer posts have held up pretty well, but we have been slowly going through and replacing the original cedar posts with more new treated posts. Putting in one or two posts at the time isn't quite as bad as trying to do several in one day. But we still have to dig up the old posts and pull them out of the ground, which is a bit of work. If we can, we take a shortcut and just cut some of them off at the ground and dig new holes next to them. But that doesn't always work, as was the case of the ones we replaced not long ago.

We finally got a Saturday where we could get out and work. The weather was nice, the sun was out. Warm, but not too hot. And an occasional breeze to cool things off. Overall, a good day to be outside doing something.

I'm not sure exactly what it is about hard work that makes me want to do something else. Because once we get out and start doing something, it really isn't that bad. Sure, we sweat and get tired from all the physical activity. And on the warmer days we have to stop and take a break every now and then. Maybe it is having to plan ahead that I don't care for. Making sure we have everything we need, making sure we have time to do it.

But then once we get out and start working, it feels good to be doing something. It feels good to accomplish something. And it is fun to look at it after we are finished and think, "Wow, that looks pretty good!"

And one good thing about hard work is that you usually don't have trouble sleeping at night.

All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty. - Proverbs 14:23

September 26, 2008

Not long ago we were sitting at the dinner table on a Wednesday night before going to church. Jaylin said, "Dad, are you leading singing tonight?"

"Evidently so," I said.

Jaylin asked, "Dad, what does 'evidently' mean?"

I was stumped on how to explain it. The meaning was, well, evident to me. Laura said, "The evidence shows that you are going to do it."

I said, "Yes, it looks to me like I will be leading singing."

That seemed to satisfy Jaylin's curiousity on both the meaning of the word and if we would be sitting at the front of the auditorium. But I wondered how we learn the meaning of words.

Lately, Jaylin has been asking what different words mean when he hears something he doesn't recognize, which is good because it shows that he is interested in learning. And I try not to get frustrated with him when he asks something that seems rather obvious to me. I have to stop and remember that I don't know what every word means, too.

But as a kid, I don't remember running to the dictionary every time I heard an unfamiliar word, although I'm sure I did from time to time. Sometimes, I could figure out the meaning by listening to what else was said in the conversation. Probably on some occasions I just went along without knowing exactly what the word meant, not worrying about it any more.

If you have read much around here, you have probably noticed that I don't often use big words. I remember what most of the words that we learned in vocabulary lessons mean. But for whatever reason, when I talk or write, those aren't the words that come out. I would like to think that it is that I am trying to keep things simple enough that everyone can understand, or that I'm not trying to show off some great knowledge. But the truth is that my mind doesn't work that way. I apparently think in simple terms, so easy words are what I can easily produce.

I remember hearing different preachers in the past use all sorts of large words in their sermons. And I would always come away thinking, "Why couldn't they have just said it more simply than that?" Because if I had to stop and think about it, there's a good chance that someone else did, too. And that pause to figure out what a word means just might take away from our understanding of what we are hearing.

So I keep things simple, because I am a simple guy. Evidently.

When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise. - Proverbs 10:19

September 2, 2008

On August 31, we had "Mission Sunday" at Bartlett Woods, where we had presentations on each of the three mission trips church members had made over the summer. I spoke on the Jamaica trip, and what follows are my remarks, along with the pictures that I used.

When we first arrived in Jamaica, at the Montego Bay airport, we were standing around waiting on the vans that would take us from the airport to the hotel. On the ground, I found a Jamaican one dollar coin. And I was immediately reminded of a sermon Stan preached a few years ago about finding money on the ground, and how that is a sign that God will provide for our needs. I thought that was a good sign, that God would be providing for our needs during this trip.

The next day was Sunday, and after church several of us went to KFC for lunch. As we drove in the parking lot, I saw a sign in the window that said "Real Deals Starting at $215". And I thought, "God, you're going to have to provide a lot more, because this one dollar isn't going to go very far!"

But God did provide the entire time, over and over again. It actually started even before we left, as God provided a great group to go on the trip. We had 10 teenagers: Chelsea Brandon, Charlie Dennis, Jason Fortner, Britne Lyons, Lauren Mayo, Andrea Purdue, Ellen Robbins, Andy Sills, Brittany Smith, and Trey Wallace. And we had 9 adults: Laura Burns, Cheryl Dennis, Mike Fortner, Sohn & Angie Lyons, Kevin Mayo, Doug Pittman, JeanAnn Robbins, and myself. I want to especially single out Sohn Lyons for his leadership, coordinating everything and making sure we were doing what we were supposed to be doing. We went with a group from the East Brainerd congregation in Chattanooga. It was a great blessing to get to know them and to work alongside other Christians from another part of the country.

And God also provided for us through many of you. We want to thank everyone who contributed clothes and pillow cases that we took to the church and to the infirmary, suitcases that we used to get those clothes there, those who contributed financially to help us get there. And we especially thank all of you who prayed for us before and during our trip.

Jamaica is a tropical island nation in the Caribbean, a former British colony. If you leave Florida and head south over Cuba, you will find Jamaica. It is a popular tourist resort, and seeing some of the natural beauty, it is easy to see why. But it is also a very poor nation, and the poverty was evident most everywhere. The church in the town of Lucea, where we worked, is small, and by our standards poor. But it is active, and it is a church of faith and truth. I enjoyed sitting in the Bible class on Sunday morning and hearing their answers to the questions that were asked. They know and believe the Bible, and it is obvious in their lives.

Once we were there in Jamaica, God provided many opportunities for us to do good, to be examples of his love, and to help out the people and the church in the town of Lucea. One of our main goals was to paint the Lucea church building. Once we got all the supplies we needed, the work went smoothly and quickly, and several people commented on how nice the building looked when we were finished. On the wall of the children's area had been glued old flannelgraph teaching aids which we had to peel and scrape off before we could paint that wall. We talked about sending some more when we got back home, but then God provided us with people in our group with the talents and abilities to draw a mural all along the wall that started with the creation and ended with Jesus ascending into heaven. I think everyone was pleased with the final results.

At the church in Lucea each night was a gospel meeting, which featured various speakers talking about different ways to take control of one's life. Each night before the meeting was a Vacation Bible School for the neighborhood kids. Our teenagers were responsible for two nights, and the East Brainerd group was responsible for the other two nights. Our group did an excellent job of teaching the kids and leading them in songs. I think the kids especially enjoyed the crafts that were made, as it gave them a chance to have something to take home with them.

We also made some visits to the local infirmary to encourage the residents there. The infirmary is basically a place where people go to die. A place for people who are sick and have no place to live and no one to take care of them. Most all of their belongings can be stored at the end of their beds. Not necessarily the happiest of places, but our group did a great job of bringing some fun and happiness to the infirmary. Again, our teens did a great job of meeting everyone, getting to know them, talking laughing, hugging, and encouraging, looking past some of the social and physical conditions that might have otherwise been a barrier to some people.

The Jamaican kids love to play soccer, or football as it is known to them. Our group would play soccer with the kids, much to their delight. They enjoyed the fun and games, and probably just the fact that someone would get out there and play with them. And after the game, everyone would gather together for a prayer, to encourage the kids there further.

Amid all that work, we did find some time for a little fun here and there. We visited two beaches and an old fort, hung on for dear life while riding through the crazy Jamaican traffic. And found an oasis in a store called Mega Mart that had most all of the comforts of home. You will have to ask some in the group how much they enjoyed that store, and how many trips we made there. They even had 20 ounce bottled Cokes for $33 Jamaican, which is about 50 cents American.

But getting back to our work, our main goal of the trip was to encourage everyone there and help out the church. But we also received some encouragement ourselves. And I have three specific examples of that.

The first was back at the infirmary. On what was my first visit there, we were going to sing songs to the residents and have a prayer. When we arrived, a gentleman named Brother Jackson was sitting outside waiting for us. But instead of us singing him songs, he wanted to sing us songs, which he did. One image that will stay with me for quite some time is this man at the infirmary, a place for the poorest of the poor, singing "Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine." And to know that no matter our position in life here on earth, we all share the same eternal hope. And I heard earlier this week that Brother Jackson passed away. So now he has moved on to a better place, a home in heaven, making that blessed assurance a reality.

Our second encouragement came from the community. There was a small store across the street from the church building, and several of us would go there to get cold soft drinks and snacks. The lady that ran the store was probably happy for all the extra business that we brought to her. Many of the people in our group invited her to the gospel meeting at the church each night. And on the last night, she was there. Not only that, but she also came forward and said that she wanted to study more about obeying the Gospel. That was fantastic for her, but it was also a great encouragement to those who had invited her to attend.

One afternoon, a few of us went to visit some of the shut-in church members in the neighborhood. We were led by the two men pictured here. The older gentleman on the left is Brother Ferguson. Brother Ferguson had his 80th birthday not long after we were there. But despite his age, he was very active, coming down to the church building every day when we were painting to see how things were going. He went with us to the infirmary, and he was at the church services every night. He kept up with us youngsters quite well! The other man in the picture is Colin, who is 21 years old. Colin was the main one leading us around to the different houses. And as we would walk along the street, other men sitting along the street would call out to Colin, making fun of him for what he was doing. Basically persecuting him for being a Christian. As we would later find out, Colin used to be one of those same guys who would sit out there doing nothing, looking for trouble, looking down on others. Then he became a Christian and left all of that behind. But it has cost him his old friends, and they don't let him forget it. That is a great example to us of the cost of becoming a Christian, and what it means to leave the old life behind.

But despite this persecution, he went on and did a wonderful job of escorting us around. At each house we would sing a few songs, and then Colin and Brother Ferguson would take turns leading prayers. It was uplifting to hear these two men, young and old, to lead such beautiful, heartfelt prayers. Especially knowing some of the difficulties they face each day. Again, those of us who went there to encourage everyone received much encouragement ourselves.

On a bit of a personal note, and I would imagine most everyone who went on the trip would say the same thing, I now feel a very personal connection with Jamaica and the church there. Since we have been back, not a day goes by that I don't think of something about the trip. Most often about the congregation of people there at Lucea. Wondering how things are with them. Hoping they are still strong in the faith. Praying about them this past week as Tropical Storm Gustav passed right over the island. Perhaps God provided this trip to be a reminder that we aren't isolated here at Bartlett Woods, or even here in the Memphis area. There are Christians in Chattanooga, in Jamaica, and all over the world, who have the same beliefs, the same struggles, and the same hope that we have.

The Bible verse chosen as the theme of the trip was James 1:22, which in one Bible version says, "Be doers of the word, and not hearers only." We had many opportunities to put this into practice, and our group, and especially our teens, lived this verse the entire time we were there. God was glorified, and people were encouraged, because of the many good works done in His name.

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. - James 1:22

August 15, 2008

When in a foreign country, even on a "working trip", it is interesting to take a few minutes to see some of the local sights. And because of my love of history and historical places, I couldn't help wondering about some of the history of the area of Jamaica we were in.

After we visited the elementary school in Lucea, as we were driving back to the church building, someone mentioned something abot an old fort being down one of the roads. That sounded interesting, but I didn't think too much of it. But then a few days later, we had a few minutes to spare, so we drove over to the fort so that those of us who hadn't been before would have a chance to see it.

When we drove up, there were no markers, no signs, nothing to show any significance to the area. We walked past some old buildings and into what was obviously the fort itself.

The walls of the fort were about eight feet high, made of old brick and rock, and they looked to be quite weathered, as if they had been around for quite a while. Along the wall were arched openings, and through those you could see the blue waters of the bay. There were stairs at the corners to get to the top of the wall. But more noticeable at the corners were large cannons, hulking, rusting, sitting on some sort of mechanism that used to allow for their movement. These guns were perhaps eight feet long or longer, massive in size. It looked as though a direct hit from one would be fatal for a ship in the bay. Inside the fort walls was a large grassy courtyard.

Laura had gone to inspect one of these archways, and she quickly called me over. She was amazed by how it was quiet while you were inside the fort, but once you stuck your head outside one of the arches, you could hear the roar of the water on the rocks down below. Quite an amazing difference - perhaps emphasizing the feeling of safety while inside the fort. And the view down the rocks to the blue water, accented by white where the water crashed into the rocks, was pretty amazing as well. Also, the archways made for great portrait spots, as several people were having their pictures made there.

We walked around and climbed up on the wall, partly to see the view, and also to get another look at the big guns of the fort. It was quite a view from up there, looking down to the left to see a rock outcropping that went toward the bay. Directly across the bay was the new resort that we had passed on the road. And of course the water in the bay, a brilliant blue even under the overcast sky and the few sprinkles of rain that were falling.

It was easy to stand there and imagine yourself in some time long past. But I wondered what time past that actually was. Being the history guy that I am, I wanted to know more. But while we were there, there wasn't much more to be known. Soon, our time was up and we had to leave. I quickly snapped a few more pictures as we headed back to the vans.

At the church service that night, we were standing around talking to some of the kids. Someone mentioned that we visited the fort, and the kids knew where it is since several of them go to school right next to the fort. I asked if they knew when it was from, or who it was there to protect against. One said maybe it was the Spanish, another thought it was the English. But they didn't know much more about it, besides the fact that it had been a fort, and it was old. I can't say much, because I don't always know much about the history that is right around me either. I guess we take such things for granted when we are around them all the time.

Some time after we got home from the trip, I was looking through my pictures of the fort, and I decided to go online and see what I could find. And I was immediately fascinated by the results!

According to various internet sites, Fort Charlotte was built in 1761 during the reign of King George III and named after the queen. Or, according to other documents, the fort was built in 1756 and named Fort Lucea, then renamed during the reign of King George III. At one time it had over 20 cannons through the arched openings, along with the two large George III guns (named for the king) which are still there. Built by the British to defend the northwest section of the island, the fort was to protect against French invaders. But at least a couple mention that it was also to defend against pirates. It is even said that Fort Charlotte was where William Bligh, later captain of the Bounty first met Fletcher Christian, who would be one of the mates on the Bounty and lead the mutiny against Captain Bligh. And either the fort presented a formidable image, or things weren't as bad as thought, because it is said that no shots were ever fired from the fort's guns.

Whatever the true history of Fort Charlotte, it did have a unique atmosphere. In fact, it reminded us very much of the fort in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, with its high walls above a rocky cliff. It is fun to imagine being inside the fort as a pirate ship sails into the bay, and it is easy to picture such a scene in one's mind. And imagining it is probably better than the real thing, because such situations probably were not as safe and friendly as they appear in the movies and theme park attractions.

Of course in these days such a fortess would not provide much protection against modern artillery. But in its time, Fort Charlotte was a symbol to the people of power and strength.

He who fears the LORD has a secure fortress, and for his children it will be a refuge. - Proverbs 14:26

See more pictures from Fort Charlotte in the DesertedIsland.net Gallery.

August 6, 2008

In hearing about the previous trips to Jamaica, one thing that everyone always talked about was visiting the infirmary. About how good it was to go there, and about the spirit of the residents there.

The infirmary is basically where people go to die. People with illnesses who can't take care of themselves, and who have no one able to take care of them. Sounded pretty depressing to me, so I was wondering why everyone talked about it so much. That had my curiosity up enough that I wanted to go as well, just to see what everyone was talking about.

Because our group was painting the church building, we didn't get to go to the infirmary for the first few days that we were there. But the Chattanooga group went and talked to everyone, taking some pictures for some crafts they wanted to make for the residents. And then after a few days, we got our chance to go along as well.

When we arrived, one of the residents, a man named Jackson, was sitting outside; he was known by several of the group from their previous visits. We were going to sing him some songs, but instead he said he wanted to sing us some songs. I wasn't familiar with some of them, although one about being "under the Rock" was memorable. And then he sang "Blessed Assurance", which is one of our familiar church songs. He said it was his favorite song. We sang him a song or two, and then he sang to us again. I'm sure he wouldn't have minded if we had stayed out there with him all day, but we needed to go inside and see others as well.

The main buildings of the infirmary are two long, nearly identical dormitory buildings, one for the men and one for the women. The buildings are open all the way down, with beds on each side. Pipe rails hang from the ceiling with sheets draped over them. Apparently, the sheets can be arranged on the rails to give some privacy if needed. But the sheets were all up to allow the air to flow through, since there wasn't any air conditioning. At one end of each building were bathroom stalls without any doors. And at the other end was a television. It seemed strange in some ways to see shows such as "George Lopez" and "Family Matters" playing there. For one reason, seeing such typical American fare playing there wasn't what I was expecting. But then on a deeper level, these comedies seemed certainly out of place in such a serious setting. At the end of the beds up against the walls were some personal belongings of the residents, probably all that they had in the world.

In each building, we wandered around talking to the different residents. People talked, sang, played dominos, took pictures, hugged, shook hands, and just generally spent time with the residents. As I was walking by one man, he saw my camera and said, "Take my picture! Take my picture!" Of course I did, as he was smiling proudly while lying in his bed.

The people there were afflicted with things that seem commonplace in the United States - diabetes, arthritis, old age. I would guess that the age range of the residents was between 20 and 80. One particularly young girl had some severe form of autism. It seemed like there should be a way to help. But the best help we could provide was some encouragement through talking, singing, touching.

In each building, we gathered around to sing a couple of songs and have a prayer. I was asked to lead the songs, and all that I could think of quickly was "Amazing Grace" and "Blue Skies and Rainbows". And I reflected on how those songs suddenly had a much different meaning to me. We usually sing them when things are going well and everything seems fine. But here, the residents would sing along with us. To them perhaps, these songs meant that God's grace is good, even when things seem bad.

Looking back now, the image that stays with me the most of our visits to the infirmary is that of Brother Jackson. Old, gray hair, missing teeth. Singing "Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine". He may not have had much in the world, but he has an eternity to make up for it.

You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed, in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more. - Psalm 10:17-18

See more pictures from the Infirmary in the DesertedIsland.net Gallery.

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