Author: admin

It was mid-May, 1975 when out of our basement classroom window during the 7-8^th period science class with Mr. Ocasio I could hear the songs Betcha’ By Golly Wow and You Make Me Feel Brand New by The Stylistic coming through the windows. From such soft songs, including Midnight Train To Georgia by Gladys Knight & The Pips, music has always shaped our lives.  Hear a song and it’ll place you back to a given time and place.  You’ll recall what you were doing, saying, maybe even wearing on a particular situation, etc.  As the 70’s rolled on, a new style of music was knocking on the scene.

One particular day in 1978, I knocked on my friend Ray’s door and my cousin June opened and signaled to come in.  The sound was deafening! We were inches apart but couldn’t hear each other.  We walked to a small, back room where Ray was trying out his latest stereo system.  Blasting was ABBA’s Dancing Queen on a pair of small, 18-22” Dynamo speakers.  “Crank it up, Ray” June said. There was no distortion! It was amazingly clear and loud!

Those years brought us hundreds, if not thousands of hits like: Dance, Dance, Dance by Chic; He’s The Greatest Dancer-Sister Sledge; Fly, Robin Fly; Mighty, Mighty; Get Off, Staying Alive; Feel So Good; Nice and Slow (Jesse Green); I haven’t stopped Dancing (Gonzales); Mondo Disco (El Coco); and thousands more.  One favorite radio station featured in a deep, slow voice: W-B-L-S followed by a high-pitched woman’s voice saying, “It’s him, my idol: Frankie Crocker.” Yep, Disco was on the scene as were guys’ French-Cut (Seamless pants), and Matadors. We had already gone through Marshmallow shoes and all guys loved Playboy shoes! They were made of leather and came in so many colors from velvet burgundy to the Wet-look with beiges, browns, soft greens, blues, and the 1” rubber heel! They were hip, comfortable, and the coolest shoes around.

During these years, we used to say, “We’re going to paint the town red, tonight.” A phrase meaning, we were going out for a good time.  People dressed up, put on spiffy outfits, and made sure their hair was “cool.” But for some of us, it was just a phrase signifying we would be hanging out.

Angel was one to don his rabbit-skin coat with his small hat, suspenders, baggy pants, and nice shoes.  He was always ready to dance to Jungle Boogie (Kool & The Gang).  Heck, we guys had a club in Danny’s basement which we spiffed up and anytime that song came up, we’d drop whatever we were doing and form our ‘Soul-Train’ line and dance-jump away!  This one time we nearly died laughing as Angel went to one end of the line and Edgar to the opposite side and they both did their moves and then did a forward roll and as they came up, they were so close they bumped into each other and rolled back down backwards!! Oh, the good old days!!

Angel, loved deejaying and had some 30,000 vinyl records! His joy was working at a record shop in the neighborhood.  He had a collection at home with his high-tech turntables and mixers, etc.  He always knew what would be coming out in the months ahead, like when he told me about the Canadian release of Don’t Stop the Music by the Bay City Rollers.  We knew what to look forward to.

 I remember going one day to either J&R Music World in Downtown Fulton, or to Disco Mat on 36^th St. & 7^th Ave. (remember them?) and asking for the 45rpm of Love Is in The Air by Jay Black.  The store owner looked at me and said, “Jay Black, from Jay Black and The Americans??” “That guy hasn’t sung in like twenty years!” I told him he had a hit.  He shook his head like ‘You’re crazy.’ He asked how I knew. I told him Angel knew before they hit the airways.  He didn’t believe me then. I’m sure he did after the hit came out!

My brother Nels was another one who loved deejaying at home.  He could tell you every hit by every artist.  He knew how long each song was on 45s, 12,”and in the albums!  *A 12”was a Disco-released hit as large as an album but with only one song recorded at 45 rpms. He even knew what label they were on-and if they switched, he knew that too! He could tell you how many members were in any group, how many left and who replaced whom.  Just a few months ago I was partly singing a song to my wife. All I remembered was Hey Jean, Billy Dean & Rock On.  As I scratched my head as to the artist, I thought Elton John?  Could it be David Bowie? Nah. What about…nothing matched up.  I couldn’t find anything similar online. So of course, all I had to do was text Nels asking if he knew such a song, and within minutes he wrote: “Yes, the name of the song was Rock On by David Essex; it was his only hit.”  I asked him if he looked it up and he said (no), “I remember it.”

During these Disco years, there was an ‘All is well’ attitude and impression around us.  After all, the music was hip and had deep bass and was danceable and enjoyable to those of us who grew up with it.  It was an escape from other unrelenting issues at hand. It was definitely upbeat music.  It was unlike songs that focused on feeling down and out or like those discussing being left alone-dumped by a significant other.  These songs gave us a great feeling of hope for the moment. And as more hits appeared, more hope was on its way.  The scene was on fire! Who could resist Barry White with his deep baritone voice,- Or Tina Charles’, You Set My Heart on Fire & I Like to Love?

As wonderful as the songs might have been, the entire Disco scene screeched to a halt.  Little by little, the world fell back to its old ways. The pants, the shirts, the disco ball, as well as the groove, crashed down on the ballroom floors and even in living rooms.  It was time to move on.

Did you know that God has records too???!!! His may not be vinyl.  They may not be 45s, 12” Disco Format, or even albums. They might be in leather, CDs, MP3’s, etc. but one thing for sure, though, is His collection is like no other! His records are in the tens of billions! They’re of every genre, every artist, known and unknown. Artists born, having died, or even unborn!  Really??! Are you surprised? Can’t picture God strumming a guitar singing Country? Sounding like Kenny Rogers? Or dancing Polka? Relax!

God has records of every human ever born and to be born. All our acts are recorded in Heaven. His angels track our every move (Hebrews 1:14). The records are separated into two piles: The Lamb’s Book of Life (Revelations 20:11-15; 21:27), and The Books (Revelation 20:12. Those in the first Book have all their sinful acts erased.  They comprise a special group. Those whose names are not found in that first list will surely find their names in the second list of books.  Those people will not have a chance to change their status once they die.

The first group consists of people who have turned over their lives to Christ.  They comprise a special group because they will dance around God’s throne in praise, exaltation, and worship for having had their sins removed and for making it to God’s throne-room, known as His dwelling place.  Members of the second group need to transfer over before the “deadline.” God sent His Son Jesus, to “Paint the town Red” with His shed blood.  Not Spilt blood because that would signify an accident.  Instead, He voluntarily and intentionally shed it for our sins.  Jesus’ blood was not only for a town, but for the entire world.  And yes, Heaven will be like no other place in this known world.  We will rejoice.  We will forever be young.  We will never die.  We will always have access to God.  We’ll sing, jump, draw, paint, build, and do whatever God will allow without fear of rejection or condemnation.  For the first time in your life you will be able to completely express your creativity to God as He intended.

I say you should transfer your name NOW! Set up some new records! Cast away all idols!  Make a splash on the scene! Get your shoes ready, get a new song in your heart, practice some saintly moves, and start rejoicing, for He has made you glad!  Heaven will be better than any (musical) period on earth, be it Big Band, Rock & Roll, Metal, The Two Step, The Swing, The Fox Trot, Blues, Line Dancing, Disco, it doesn’t MATTER!!  There will be an attitude and atmosphere like no other! “Yowsah, Yowsah, Yowsah!!” 

Two days ago, my wife and I were reminiscing of our days growing up.  Now, I don’t know if this happens to everyone, but I do know it was something all the Hispanic, if not Puerto Rican families we knew were into.

Our parents would go out and buy a new living room set. A few days later they’d visit or call the local plastic-cover store.  Within a few days, a rep would come and measure the sofa and side chairs as well as any other component of the set. The new set would be covered nice and tightly in plastic.  Every piece would stick to you when you sat, moved, and especially, when you got up.  One would hear all kinds of sounds coming from the sofas.  You didn’t know if they were made-up sounds or the real thing!  You could rub your hands across them just for sound effects.  If you sat and moved about, you heard additional sounds! Even the throw pillows were covered in plastic! We were expected to sit and be comfortable, but how? The funniest thing was, getting up.  Upon doing so, the plastic would come right up with you and stick to your buttooshki! See, as 8 or 9-year-olds, we spent most of our days in undies playing & running around, so you know those plastics would really stick! 

My wife’s grandmother would have area rugs or runners to protect the hardwood flooring, which makes sense.  But then, the runner was protected by having plastic placed over it.  The policy was: “No one better walk anywhere other than on the plastic.” So, as kids we wondered what purpose there was in having nice floors only to cover them in rugs and why have nice rugs only to cover them in plastic?

Turns out, sin is just like that.  You sit on it, get comfortable, and it sticks to you.  It sticks to your sides, your bottom, and every part of you until you’re stuck.  It’s fun at first.  You’ll have a few laughs, you’ll hear funny sounds, and you’ll have to walk on a certain path.  Eventually though, sin, being an offense to God, to a holy God, will consume you.  You’ll soon grow comfortable again; you’ll get used to how it grabs you and how it sticks to you.  You’ll look forward to the way it holds you down or the way it comes up with you when you get up. Plastic isn’t the best covering.

Try God.  Jesus died for you. Just as when we go out to eat and a friend covers the tab, Jesus covered your sin.  See, our righteousness is as filthy rags to God (Isaiah 64:6) and we fall extremely short of making a payment for our sins.  So short, it’s impossible to do.  Were it possible, there would have been no need for Jesus to leave his riches and holiness just to die in our place.  But Jesus, being perfect, was able to die and rise from the dead when it should have been us.  He’s set up a path for us to walk in.  No, it’s not covered in plastic.  Here on earth, it’s covered with tests and trials, but in Heaven, it’ll be covered in pure gold; streets, crystal clear like transparent glass (Revelation 21:21)!

“Yo, I hit your leg!” “Too bad!” “You should have moved!” “No, I stood my grounds!” “Then, do over!!!”  

“I couldn’t hit it, the ball landed on a crack and it went sideways… and

“No, no do over!!!” Then it’s Hindu!” That was typical of our conversations during some of our most intense games!

Ever since around the age of seven, every game I played with the guys, involved a do over! Whether it was two-hand touch football (American), punch-ball, stick-ball, dodgeball, handball, or, no offense, Chinese handball, as we knew it, ‘Do over’ was part of the game!  In Chinese handball, the ball, either one of two types, a Spaulding known as a Spaldeen or a Pencey-Pinky, was served by hitting it down at an angle like a “V” so that after it bounced, it would hit the wall. All players had to stay within their (sidewalk) box. The Server could hit it in his own box several times before passing it to the player next to him or to other players (we used to play up to 4 or 6 players at once). Each player, though, had to pass it to the other player to his right. I believe we could bounce it within our box several times until ready to hit it to the next person.  However, the ball had to bounce only once before hitting the wall.  Unlike regular handball, a killer was a no-no. Since a killer had to hit the wall first, in this game, you were out if you hit one.  The game required lots of concentration.  For one, you had to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t handball!  You couldn’t just hit the ball with all of your might since the court was small and it really required patience and strategy.

One characteristic of this game was Babies.  That’s when you hit the ball so short and so close to the wall that you’re almost on your knees and your nose is practically touching the ball as you await what your opponent would do next.  Of course, you would want to “Baby’ it back to him but at an angle so that the ball would practically die-that is, not bounce much so that he would miss it.  Sometimes, though, as you expected a “Baby’ the opponent would get really close to the wall but hit it hard catching you off guard! Sometimes, while the ball was in the air, a player would fake hitting it hard and then run in and do a Baby on you-or vice versa! Needless to say, we all had to be on our guard all the time. If the Server missed, the next in line would move up. That was everyone’s goal, to move up.  If another player missed, he’d move to the end.  Rounds of shouts, roars of laughter, mockings, spooks or jinxes, sweaty palms, and bring-it-on were part of the game! The obvious objectives were to ‘psych out’ (syke) your opponents.

And so, anytime someone blocked you, or you accidently hit another player, etc. we’d yell, “Do Over!” That meant another chance at it. Sometimes we yelled “Interference!” It meant the same thing.  Our games were loaded with yelling and shouting and quick moves.  We played intense games. We jumped, zoomed in, zoomed out, rolled on the ground, jumped over and under others, but we rarely had any real arguments or fights. It was just the way we were and how we played.  Some games were ‘Just for fun’ while others seemed like life and death depended on them.  One thing for sure, we put our all into them!  

Do overs were woven into every game and sometimes, it really helped because while the other players were arguing for, or against the call, you could just serve again or whack the ball (in stick-ball) catching them off guard and scoring!  Of course, that in itself many times became a do over because no one was ready!  Angel was one player known for that! He was sneaky, fast, strong, and a good hitter.  Do overs were the actions and adventurous parts of any game!  We really looked forward to them!

These games and how we played them actually shaped the ways we learned to deal with life.  We were always friends.  A game was just a game.  Though played ‘to the death,’ so to speak, we came back to life next day and tried our best again. Great lessons for facing life.

Maybe you can remember some of the games and sports you grew up playing.  Depending on your neighborhood and country, I’m sure they were different from mine. Nevertheless, you might relate to some of these moments. It’s great to relive times and lessons that shaped our lives.  Times spent with those we knew and with those we shared special moments with are the things that can give our lives meaning. Relish those moments and memories.

Growing up among friends had its advantages. Living life with that cushiony feeling of getting breaks, made our days. Now that we’re grown, we have to remember and accept that life isn’t based on do overs.  Very few things can be fixed with those two words. 

Perhaps you’ve grown up thinking about your future.  Millions live with an unrealistic expectation of how they’ll exit this life. For those who believe there is a God, they dream of their dying days as being cooped up on a bed with plenty of time to sort things out and then just die quietly. Reality proposes that most of us will go in a way or in a situation we never would have imagined. And for those thinking and hoping that once they’ve reached their final destination, there’s a way out or around, or under; sorry.  There isn’t.  If you’re thinking of saying to God, “Yo, he was in my way, it wasn’t my fault; let me do it over.”  Scripture tells us, “It is appointed unto man, once to die and after this, the judgement” (Hebrews 9:27). 

As in some of our games, there’ll be yelling, screaming, and gnashing of teeth as people sadly realize that they are doomed and that the only do overs in their lives will be to relive the horrors of torture and separation from God for all eternity.  But WAIT!  All is not yet over!

Scripture says, “Now is the day of salvation! If you hear His voice today, do not harden your hearts” (2 Corinthians 6:2, Hebrews 3:8, 4:7). Today is your day of do overs! Can you imagine?! God is so gracious!!  Ask Him into your heart this very moment! He’s watching and waiting for you! Your life is your game!  Play your best game!  Give it all your best shots!  Maybe when you played as a kid just as we did, you may or may not have had spectators watching you, but God is watching your every move.  He’s for you.  And when He’s in your heart, you will play the best games ever.

Accept Jesus into your heart, make Him The Server, and send me a comment! I will cheer you on too!

God bless you!

Here’s a special Happy Birthday shout-out to our beautiful daughter Milky D.!

She’s a multitasker, loves cooking, baking, painting, woodworking, gardening, sewing, decorating, singing, and teaching-for starters! She takes after both parents, but mostly after me!

Davina (beloved of God) has had great experiences working at summer camps with special-needs kids, has traveled on missions’ trips to Mexico, Bolivia, Honduras, and other countries as well.  Spent three months in Tanzania living among the Maasai tribe for her cultural studies where she had great adventures and experiences living in huts and within the wilds of nature.

Wild at heart and willing to follow where the Lord leads, is deeply-rooted in our daughter-who still takes rooms apart just to put things back all over again and…

In the ups and downs, you’ve been strong! Continue to climb! God Bless!

Love ya,

Papi & Mami

Sounds of ambulances and police cars could be heard in the distance; sirens blared as they raced to the scene…Crowds gathered to catch a glimpse and curiosity seekers poked their heads for a better view… In the meantime, the year was probably 1977-78. The address, 124 Humboldt St. in Brooklyn’s Bushwick section. My friend Gil and another guy by the name of Elias were the top handball players in the area. No, we didn’t play on a regular court but had become experts on a small, 8’ wide by 8’ high court within a Housing complex. We took turns winning, with me winning most games. The scene: Elias and I shifting rapidly from left to right, stomping our feet as we reached one corner and dashed back to save our necks. On this particular day, Elias, who was about 5’11 and super-slim, was quick. His long arms helped him reach just about every shot coming at him. I was 5’6” but way-faster, though I had to hustle, but I’d get him.
We always played a game of 21. So, there we were, the score, 19 up-two points needed to win. We skid across the court; we’d practically knock each other out. We’d swing around each other, even under the opponent’s legs. Slam! Bam! We meant business! The score was now 20 (me) to 19. Point game. But Elias swung around striking with a killer. Slammm! In my face! I was down! His turn to serve. He scored! The score, even at 20, meant it was now a 22- point game. I zoomed up front and covered every shot that came. He was down. I went up and now I was in the lead! With a point to go, he got me down again- and scored again! The game was tied at 21. It was now a 23-point game. This continued, pushing the game to a 25-point game. Tons of sweat poured down our faces. We were hot! We were in the best shape of our lives. Our shorts and t-shirts, drenched. Our sneakers left skid marks on the cement below. I was leading now 24-23. That elusive point was all I needed. As the crowd watched from behind, a young, pretty girl just happened to pass behind us carrying a medium-size paper bag with groceries. We battled to defend our championship. We huffed and puffed, but weren’t out of breath. We were the epitome of healthy and unstoppable guys! This was our turf. This was our game! I sometimes played 20 games in a day.
So, I was serving, and with a point left to win, as we practically danced around the court looking like we were dancing to Jungle Boogie, suddenly, there it was!! A stone!! A stone was better than a killer. It’s when the ball hits the lowest it can possibly go on the wall and then just rolled right out! Bam, Bam, Bam! Elias was beside himself! He was grunting in disbelief!! We jumped and jumped, roared and roared! He turned around at ‘Miss Pretty-face” yelling, “You didn’t see that! You didn’t see that! You didn’t see that! She looked down, then smiled shyly, and nodded her head signifying “YES! I saw it, I saw it all!” He yelled again, “N-o-o-o!!!” It rang across the Grand Canyon echoing all around us! I said,” She did, man, she did!” “In your face, dude.” What a game! That was a game of champions and I retained my title! Those gathered around us cheered and laughed and probably nodded their heads saying, “There they go again!”
Fast forward 42 years into the future. Across the street from that location, in an empty school yard with a real handball court Gil and I are playing. Picture Gil as 5’9” and hair like Mr. Monk’s! Gil was a good player and occasionally had his good days! Now and then he would beat me. But then I’d take him on a bike ride and slaughter him! But that’s another story! Here we were. The usual excitement is taking place. We’re running all over the place. We’re skidding, we’re sweating, we’re stomping as we reach one end and rush to the other to cover our corners. Gil was known to shake his head and say, “look at that, Sam.” And all these drops of sweat would stream down to the sidewalk. We’d laugh, but I knew they wouldn’t help him win, not this time. We huffed and puffed, but unlike back in the 70’s, this time we are out of breath; this time our sweat is hyperventilation! There’s smoke coming out the two inner-holes of my Converse All Stars. The game is hot! My feet feel like they’re melting. Gil swings and his walker slides across the court. I rush to my side and my cane goes flying! Gil slams the ball again and his right arm goes with it! As I rush to the front of the court to hit a killer, my toupee flies off! Another hit and my arthritis locks my fingers so I can’t hit the ball! Gil serves but he can’t actually see where the court is! It’s not the sweat in his eyes, but he says it’s the contact lens that flew out! “Sshh, he doesn’t wear any! As we call it a draw, we bend to pick up our parts and pieces. Good thing our teeth held in place! We feel like the $6 million dollar man, only we’re now probably worth $80 million due to inflation! And so, the ambulances come to patch us up. And then leave. The only accident or crime committed was two guys in their 60’s hanging on to their long-forgotten youth and its joys. The gathered crowds cheer us on. They’re laughing in derision! They can’t believe we’d think we still had it. But boy, was it fun! The crowds diminish and head back to do their thing. Wow! What a game-tied at 6 points each!
Though, this last section is a projection, I’m sure it’s what would happen to us at our age! Time flies and regardless of what shape you’re in, life will never be the same as it was 42 years earlier. Enjoy your time now!

Projecting into the near future, there will be no pain in heaven and as the prophet of old, Isaiah, said, “Those who hope in God Adonai, will renew their strength, they will soar aloft as with eagles’ wings; when they are running they won’t grow weary , when they are walking they won’t get tired (Isaiah 40:31 NIV). So, remember that God is “our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of trouble.” If your life is falling apart or a few parts have been scattered here and there, He is here to pick up the pieces for you and with you. He knows your life, and He knows your game. The ancient wiseman, King Solomon, tells us to seek God in our youth while the days are good and while we have our health (Ecclesiastes 12). Our lives are but a vapor, a wisp that quickly disappears (James 4:14). We take in a few breaths and it seems as if twenty years have flown by. A game like ours in heaven, will probably last for years. I’m sure we’ll have a lot more fun and will feel like we’re back in our twenties forever! God bless!

In Memory of Elias Campos 1957-1990
***Note: Just after having written this blog three days ago, I contacted Gil inquiring about Elias, and he in turn reached Elias’ sister, Naida. I learned that Elias had passed away from a Bronchial Asthma attack back in November of 1990, just 6 days shy of his 33rd birthday. He was definitely a healthy and vigorous player who left us too soon and whose passing caught everyone by surprise being he was never sick nor known to have had any illnesses.

From close-knit sports aficionados, Sam & Gil, our heartfelt condolences go out to his family, particularly sister Naida, who not only lost a brother, but also recently lost Elias’ son to COVID three months ago. Naida also lost her husband of 43 years some 9 months ago. She provided us with pics of a great friend and handball player whom I remembered only from memory these past 42 years.

I took two trips a few years ago to the beautiful mountains of North Carolina!  Spent our time with our family up in a hand-hewn, square-cut log cabin with dovetailed corners.  Each day was filled with wonderful views and hot, sunny days of adventure.  The type one can dream about or watch on TV movies.  Beautiful trees, leaves, country roads, birds chirping and sunshine down until 9:30 p.m.! It was heavenly, to say the least!  Each day brought outings and great adventures. One day, we crossed three small log bridges-one person at a time.  We walked trails covered with trees and where streaks of sunshine broke through.  Truly magical!

One day, my son-in-law and I visited some antique stores while the wives were home.  Not a good thing! I eyed a two-man saw with a landscape scene beautifully painted on it.  I convinced myself I needed it and wanted it.  I purchased it but now had two problems: How to ship it back to Puerto Rico and how to tell my wife; both difficult moves.  My son-in-law had my back in terms of getting it shipped.  We got some boxes, bought tape, and spent 45 minutes pouring sweat from our foreheads at the post office parking.  It wasn’t easy to package a flimsy 66” long saw; but we did it! Inside the post office, we were called to the counter.  The agent didn’t know how to measure it.  Instead of measuring the length, the width, and the height-a mere 2,” he measured the length twice!  We were appalled! We told him that was not the way to do it! He insisted it was! Now, we had a bigger problem (literally)!  This being near a 4^th of July weekend, many businesses were closed.  We finally found a chainsaw carving locale and asked if someone could ruin my beautiful saw by cutting it down with a grinder.  One guy agreed.  When he saw the artwork, he asked us, “Are you guys really sure you want to do this?”  Tearfully and with shaking knees, I said, “Yes.”  We held a moment of silence…

We repackaged it and headed to the P.O. the agent was surprised at how small we were able to get it-shmuck! Just as he was about to call us, another teller called us & he measured it correctly! All that for nothing. It was on its way, and now I only had to tell my wife.  The sweat would pour down again. “Honey, Baby, Sweetie, Darling…What a beautiful day…” I lived to tell about it, though it took a while to recover from the wounds (kidding). Good thing she didn’t have the saw on hand-you’d never know!

Back home, I had to find someone to seamlessly weld it back & then I had to paint it to blend both parts. I didn’t mind because I knew the saw had a story and history of its own and now it had mine to go with it!  That’s life.  We all have stories, though I seem to have tons of them.

Some two thousand years ago, Jesus had a story to tell, a mission to fulfill, and a purpose for both.  Upon His death, the veil of the temple was torn in two.  Decades ago, I read it would require 2-3 oxen on each end, each pulling in their direction in order to tear the veil apart.  Yet, it was divinely torn-not from the bottom the way oxen or men could do it, but from the top signifying it was an act of God.  So, why was the veil important?  In a nutshell, it separated us from a holy God.  It required burnt offering and sacrifices to reach Him.  It kept us from approaching Him and saying, “What’s up, God?” The tearing means we now have access to Him anytime and anywhere. He took our sins and He sacrificed His life for us so we wouldn’t have to.  He took our place at the altar.  We can talk to Him and tell Him whatever is on our hearts.

Years later, history tells us that one or two of His disciples were sawed in half. At the coming resurrection, their bodies will become ‘ONE’ again- as will the bodies of all that have died for Christ’s cause, whether they’re on/In the ground, cremated, in the sea, or anywhere else!  If there’s hope for an old, artful saw, there’s definitely plenty of hope for you!

Bright, Sunny Days in NC

From the time our kids were 6 and 8 years old up to 11 and 13, they had some strange ways of cleaning their rooms.  The two weird ones were the two oldest ones, Milky and Gam.  Milky, the ever-creative one, always had an ‘interpretive’ way of what cleaning meant.  The first time we encountered her ‘non-kosher’ ways was when she was about 5-6 years old.  There were probably 9-13 toys on the floor with pants, blouses, and other goodies strewn about.  l gave them all 15 minutes to clean up. Upon returning, the mess had multiplied about 40 times over! I was upset! I couldn’t believe it! I called my wife over to see what this room now looked like! I don’t think the floor tiles were visible! She was full ripe for a spanking; but wait!! She had a plan! There was a full and logical explanation for this chaos! “In order for me to clean, I first have to empty every chest drawer and every dresser drawer, and I have to dump all the toys on the floor.  This way, I get to reorganize everything and return them to where they belong,” she explained.  She was spared and given another hour to demonstrate her skills.  She did it although the thought of getting that spanking made her rush it through.  And so, the expected unexpected surprises made their way into our home.

   Our son had his own creativity as well! His room had bunk beds with the bottom bed empty.  His first stunt was to pull a bedsheet over the bottom bed covering the side too. I walked in, open some drawers and found all up to par.  As I reviewed the room, I noticed he didn’t move from in front of his bed…. When I moved him and lifted the sheet, wow! everything was on that bed!! He hadn’t cleaned at all. Another time, everything again looked cleaned and legit, but upon further inspection, just like on TV, he wouldn’t move his outstretched arm from leaning on the closet.  I asked him to move and when I opened the door, everything poured right on down to the floor!  I learned that whether toys were swept under the bed, covered with clothing, hidden under the sheets, or whether the youngest child was missing because Milky made her a “Why didn’t I think of that before?” bed by hiding her in a towel-lined chest drawer, and pulled her out so I could see her ingenuity, that our kids could come up with all sorts of things to cover up their responsibilities, or lack thereof.

One day, according to Scripture, Jesus faced a similar situation: The holy temple courts were filled with corrupt leaders and vendors.  People found shortcuts for their responsibilities.  If someone forgot to drop by Lamb-mart to pick up a perfect lamb for their family sacrifice, they could get one of those ‘dent’ models at the temple; except for a few blemishes, it was just as good, they reasoned.  The bible shares that in past times before Jesus’ days, the people viewed serving God as a weariness (Malachi 1:13).

Armed with a whip, Jesus, with righteous anger, overthrew the vendors for polluting His Father’s house (John 2:13-17).  We can look at that in disbelief and marvel at how some people could do such a thing.  Yet, we do the same.  We’re good at disguising our cleaning.  We’ll sweep our junk, our toys, our anger, our jealousies under our beds or in the closets of our minds.  We know we anger our Father, but we figure He’ll forgive us.  At best, we hope He doesn’t look in our secret chambers to discover what’s in there.  Here’s a secret:  If we could go back in time to before we were born, or before time even existed, we’d find that God already knew what things we will try to get away with.  We can’t hide anything from Him.  It’s like suspecting our son may have eaten 8 of the 12 Oreos we left in a pack and so we figure we can ask him.  He’ll deny it with the most serious and somber face available.  But then he smiles slightly as if to say, “I’m so good, I’ve got this” and then you notice the black teeth and tongue… All we wanted was for him to come clean.  That’s what God wants.  He doesn’t want or need your Oreos but He does want your life.  He’ll clean it out much better than we ever could.  He has a plan.  He has a drawer for every toy and garment; not for hiding your kids.  He won’t sweep anger or envy under the bed; He’ll remove them completely.  You’ll feel tons better knowing you’ll have the seal of a clean house inspection. 

God Bless

When our kids were growing up, I didn’t have much to give them.  I was usually busy with a ton of things.  One day I thought of something that would work for me.  I decided to give each of my three kids thirty minutes once a week. Usually on a Thursday or Saturday, I would set up my timer for thirty minutes and then we’d pray and have talks about relative issues with each child.  We’d learn the books of the Bible, review verses and then wrestle! We’d have fun!  Those few minutes helped us bond.  As they grew older, wrestling was replaced by basketball or volleyball, etc. Those were moments that will never return.  The kids are all grown and two of them have kids of their own.  Life is precious and if we’re not careful, it slips from us.  We don’t need to hold on to the past but it’s good to continue creating new memories and special moments together.

So, what would I like for Father’s Day?  I’d like to know that my kids call me once a week to ask ‘How are you Pa?’ How’s it going?  How are you feeling today? What are you working on now?  To have talks about …the time that…etc.  To me, Father’s Day is about honoring your dad.  It’s about thanking him for lessons learned, for moments spent together.  No, not all moments were great-they never are, but we learn that life isn’t flawless. We learn that God placed us in a certain home for reasons.  Granted, some kids have or have had horrible upbringings and I assure you, God will deal with that and with those involved.  He’s adamant about how we treat little ones-and older ones.

 Sometimes, we break our fathers’ hearts.  Generally, young folks have something to look forward to in their lives but older people don’t always share those hope for their own lives.  For many, life could be senseless or hopeless and that’s when they need their kids there.  Kids can lift the spirit of their parents; they can give them a sense of hope and inspiration to go forth.  Remember, your father will not be around forever.

Take God, for example.  We can break His heart millions of times a day every day.  We shatter His hopes for us when we stay away or don’t honor Him.  We cause Him to cry (Luke 19:41).  We cause Him to miss us (Luke 15:11-32).  Even as Christians we can stay away too long.  God longs for those ‘thirty minutes’ of fun and fellowship with Him.  He longs to hear from us.  He wants to know our dreams and aspirations.  He longs for those plans we have; He wants to see us use our creativity for His glory.  God wants His children to talk to Him; to reminisce about those times when…He wants us to honor Him not only with our words, but with our actions like with time spent in His presence-or with our parents. God, will always be there-He’s eternal.

Call your dad this weekend.  Talk to God.  Tell them both what they mean to you.  Talk of special moments shared together.

Happy Father’s Day!

Months ago, my wife and I began walking.  We walk around the outside of our home; down to the end, take a left, turn back, and do it again. We’re up to twenty laps now.  We walk, walk, walk, and we talk, talk, talk.  Actually, I do the talking, my wife keeps track of the laps and ‘listens’ to me.  Occasionally, she talks too.  So, there we were recently, just talking and listening away.  Going back and forth and by and by.  I shared and she agreed.  We both made our points known for at least four laps.  Several laps later I touched on the point again and my wife asked what I was talking about.  I reminded her our discussion several laps prior. “Don’t you remember?” I asked; “No,” she said.  So, I asked her what she was agreeing to and what in the world was all her input towards.  Laughing hysterically, she said, “I don’t know!”  She had no clue what idea or concept we had been talking about.  And so, we continued to walk, walk, and walk. And as I talked and talked, she counted and ‘listened.’

The book of Amos, 3:3 tells us “Can two walk together except they be agreed?”  God reminds us the importance of being ‘on the same page’ for things to have positive results.  Whether you walk for fun, for health, or are in a relationship, agreeing is key for seeing eye-to-eye. In a serious relationship, agreeing implies both parties knowing and understanding God’s principles. Enjoy the by and by.  Make sure you’re a great listener.