Deep Thinking

Here are some profound things that I know to be true:

1. Eating too much makes you fat.
2. Sitting around too much makes you lazy.
3. Spending too much money makes you poor.
4. Reading books makes you wiser
5. Watching TV makes you an idiot.
6. If you re not growing and improving, then you are decaying and dieing.
7. Knowing these truths is not the same as acting on them. (Knowledge without
action is worthless)
8. I am responsible. (I have no one left to blame)

So, in 2008, if the Good Lord allows, I am going to strive to act on these simple truths.
I will let you know how I do.

Changing Your Perspective

I had a colonoscopy Friday. That means that I spent most of the day Thursday sitting.
For those of you who have had this wonderful procedure before, you know that to prepare you must drink 4 liters of Go-Lyte laxative the day before the procedure. (Whoever named the laxative Go-Lyte had a cruel warped sense of humor)
I did however make the most of my sitting time. I read the book “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom. I think that it should be required reading for all humans.

I had my New Years resolutions all made out. I had my 2008 wish list of things I wanted to buy and do all prepared. After reading this book however, I threw it out and made a new list.

In 2008 I want to work less and play more. I want to talk less and listen more. I want to worry less and pray more. I want to make things grow. I want to make a positive difference in someone else’s life. I want to learn to dance.

“Each night when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.” –MAHATMA GANDHI

When Prayer Doesn't Work

She was just one of many - just another name on the board that had to be checked off before we could all go home. She looked like a typical cancer patient. Her skin was pale and transparent. She was thin and frail. Her hair was falling out from all of the Radiation treatments. Her body was sick and her heart was failing. She needed a pacemaker to encourage her tired heart to keep beating.

I talked softly to her. I used all the kindness I could muster. I knew that she was suffering. I knew that even with a pacemaker she was not long for this world. More than that, I knew that she was scared. You don't have to be a nurse very long before you can recognise true fear in some one's eyes. I promised her medicine - medicine to ease the pain, and to help her relax. It was all that I had.

It startled me when she grabbed my hand. She grabbed it with a force that was way beyond her strength. She could barely talk so I had to lean down close to her mouth to hear what she wanted. "Are there any praying nurses here?" she asked. "Yes Ma'am", I replied. "We are all praying nurses." There were about 4 of us hurrying around the room trying to get everything ready and I was pretty sure that I was telling her the truth. She then whispered, "Before you give me that medicine, would you pray for me?"

So, I prayed. The noise and all of the commotion in the room suddenly stopped. Everyone waited, everyone prayed along. I prayed as hard as I knew how. I asked God to be with her, to protect her, to heal her. I prayed for God to be with the doctors and the nurses. I prayed for God's angels to surround her and keep her safe. She smiled, and went to sleep.

The procedure was typical - no real problems. Afterwards, I woke her up and told her that everything had gone well and that she had come through it all just fine. Again she smiled.

There were a few tell tale signs early on that told us something wasn't right. Before we got her back to her hospital room her oxygen saturation started to drop slightly. At first it appeared to be nothing serious. We left her in the capable hands of a critical care nurse and then hurried back to the Lab to get started with the next patient.

About an hour later someone stuck their head through the door of the operating room to inform the doctor that his last patient had just developed a large pneumothorax. (That is where air leaks into the space between your lungs and your chest wall and your lungs colapse) It is a typical treatable complication. If it is caught quickly enough most people survive it. If however you are as weak and sick as this little lady was then your chances of surviving it are slim and none. I silently prayed for her again - I think everybody did.

I don't really know the end of the story. I'm not sure I want to know. I walked by her room today and her bed was empty.

Wake Up Call

Granted, the doctor was in a pretty foul mood. He'd had a bad day. It was late, and he was tired. His words were well meant - just a little harsher than usual.

The recipient of his stinging rebuke was a 52 year old patient who, thanks to the quick actions of the Emergency Room Staff and the skill of this Cardiologist, had just survived his first heart attack. He was literally handed a second chance at life. I don't remember the exact words, but the conversation went something like this:

Doctor: "This was your wake up call. Like it or not, your life style has just changed! You no longer smoke cigarettes. You no longer drink 6 beers every time you go golfing. You have to start eating right and getting some regular exercise.

(It was at this point in the conversation that the patient mumbled something about maybe trying to cut down a little - the volume of the conversation then went up considerably)

Doctor: "ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT JUST HAPPENED? IF YOU KEEP DOING WHAT YOU ARE DOING YOU ARE GOING TO DIE - MAYBE NOT TODAY - BUT SOON!

It was obviously not what the patient wanted to hear. He would rather have been told that he would have to live without his left arm than to be told he had to break his habits and change his lifestyle. So, I'm pretty sure that we at Maury Regional Hospital will be seeing this patient again real soon.

What is it in our brains that makes us our own worst enemies? Why is it, that even when we know better, our bad habits become so powerful and wield such debilitating control over our lives?

Remember the old late night infomercial guy - Tony Robbins.? I have been reading some of his stuff lately.

Beliefs have the power to create and the power to destroy. Human beings have the awesome ability to take any experience of their lives and create a meaning that disempowers them or one that can literally save their lives.

The Joy of Gingerbread

Last night we celebrated Andrea's Birthday. We turned the party into a Gingerbread House Building Party for the kids. You can see by the pictures which kid had the most fun....

Head Start On New Years Resolutions

I'm trying to avoid the rush this year. The way I see it - if I make my New Years Resolutions now - I can test them out ahead of time and see which ones (if any) will have a snowballs chance...

I found an old copy of the goals that I had set for myself back in 1996. I realized that if I just photocopied that list and changed the date to 2008 I would be good to go. My Goals really haven't changed much over the years.

My Yearly Goals have always included 3 categories: Spiritual, Physical, and Financial. I also include a "Wish List" for projects that I would like to get done or things I would like to do that year.

In the Spiritual category one item that I always include is trying to read the entire Bible through in a year. I checked my records and I have only achieved this goal 5 times in the past 11 years. (This year I dropped out in July). That is less than a 50% score. In most schools that is considered failure with a capital "F". While I wish I could boast about a much higher success rate - I must admit that if I had I not included this Goal on my list I would have never bothered to read it even 5 times. So, I'm going to keep this one on the the list again this year.

I think I have my Physical and my Financial categories mixed up. My waist line keeps growing while my bank account keeps shrinking. There has to be a way to turn this around. Any suggestions???????

Family Portrait

This is actually the first picture we have ever taken that includes all of our children together in one spot.

Here are the four reasons that we feel so blessed.

The Whole Gang

A Quick Update

Its a busy time around the Anderson house. We have somewhere we have to be every night this week. With all of the Christmas stuff going on it doesn't leave much time for Christmas shopping. So, like always, I'm sure me and ma will be out Christmas eve again fighting for the last of whatever is left on the shelves. Oh well, if stress is what makes Christmas time so special, this one ought to be a doosy.

Andrea and I are both singing in the choir this year for our church Christmas play. Lynetta is the star of the drama this year! I never thought she would agree to that, but believe it or not, she is actually pretty good. The program is on Sunday December 16Th - 2 shows - one at 4:00pm and one at 6:00pm. We would love to have lots of you come and see it.

For my Michigan friends: I did something Saturday that you may find a little strange. I mowed the lawn and put up Christmas lights on the same day. There are a lot of people here in Tennessee who wait and take their Christmas lights down is July - right after they mow over the extension cord - but mowing the lawn and putting them up on the same day is strange - even for us Tennesseans.

The whole Famn Damily went Friday night to get our portraits taken for Christmas. The poor girl taking the pictures about fainted when she saw us all walk in together. They turned out pretty good. I will post some as soon as I can. We are planning on making some of them into Christmas cards - but, at this rate, it will probably be February before we get them mailed.

Hop-A-Long-Holiday

Thanksgiving started off with a bang - a really loud bang!
Late Wednesday evening Kari and the kids had stopped over to drop off some food and supplies for our Thanksgiving dinner. About midnight, as they were leaving, I heard a loud bang and a terrifying scream. I ran to the back door to see Kari lying in the mud at the bottom of the stairs. Her leg was twisted in an awkward manor beneath her. At first glance, in the dark, it appeared to be a serious fracture.

There were at least 4 factors that lead to the accident:
1. Kari had four year old Emily Klair in her arms. (Emily Klair was not hurt)
2. Kari was wearing old cheap flip-flops
3. It was pouring down rain.
4. The stairs have the reputaion of being too slick.
The combination of these factors led to a 3 hour trip to the Emergency room.

After all the screaming, crying and panic (mostly from us, not Kari) it turned out that there were no bones broken. Just a long laundry list of torn ligaments, sprained joints, and lots of cool bruises. She will be limping long into the new year. She spent Thankgiving day on our couch.

All in All it was a great Holiday. Any excuss to be with our family and friends is always great. As a matter of fact, If I could gauge our family holiday gatherings simply by how much weight I gained, then I would have to say that the Anderson Thanksgiving was a grand success!!

An Interesting Theory

I ran across an interesting blog article the other day. It was written by a guy from Texas named Richard Beck. He refers to himself as a professor and experimental psychologist. You can read the entire article Here

The article uses a bunch of big words like thanatocentric and ante-mortum salvific self-verification (I think words like this are lovingly referred to as psycho-babble) But once you get past the big words, his theory is really rather interesting. I usually don't pay much attention to this type of stuff. Mostly because I have such trouble understanding it. (it makes my poor little head hurt) But this one caught my attention because it addressed a question that has really been on my mind lately: Why do some good Christian people become so unreasonable, defensive, harsh and down right un-Christ like anytime their particular religious views or practices are questioned or challenged? Why do reasonable people become so unreasonable when religion is involved?

Richard says that this behavior is a defense mechanism. It stems from having a thanatocentric (death centered) faith.

"If my faith is thanatocentric then faith becomes fundamentally about where I stand at the moment of death. Am I with the saved or with the lost? How can I tell? Well, you can tell by drawing ecclesial lines in the sand and then check--self-verify--where you stand. And you keep checking, almost daily, because death can come at any moment. Faith becomes a kind of obsessive-compulsive salvation check: Am I in? Yes, I'm in. Am I in? Yes, I'm in. Am I in? Yes, I'm in. Doctrine becomes about existential self-soothing.

In my tradition, being saved was defined by being a member of the Churches of Christ. And one of the defining features of that church was non-instrumental music. For better or worse, that issue became a means of ante-mortum salvific self-verification. But what happens, as is currently being done in progressive Churches of Christ, if that line in the sand starts getting rubbed out? Blurred? Well, you start robbing people of a mechanism for existential self-soothing. You've taken away an existential security blanket. If you start rubbing out all those lines of demarcation how can you tell who is or who is not going to hell? More vitally, how can I tell if I'm going to hell? That's the real issue. Where do I currently stand? Saved or Lost?

Death is a terrifying prospect. This is exacerbated if one also believes there is a hell of never-ending torment. Thus, faith, belief and doctrine begin to cluster around defining the Saved versus the Lost. If the church is our lifeboat then we become very invested in making a clear demarcation between church and non-church. I need very clear lines in the sand so that I can self-verify, over and over, that I'm on the right "side."

So, according to Richard, this harsh unreasonable behavior does not stem from malice, hatred, anger, or feelings of superiority. These behaviors simply come from fear - terrifying self limiting fear.

If Richards assumptions are correct, and in at least some cases I suspect that they are, then how should I respond to someone who has just chewed me a new back side for dissagreeing with their particular religious views?
If I truly believe that my faith is "Grace Centered" (I don't know a fancy psycho word for that) and not thanatocentric or "Death Centered" then how should I respond?

Eph. 4:2
With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love;
Eph. 4:32
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

This of course is much easier said than done.

Frustration (revised)

(I published this one earlier, but Lynetta told me it was too vague and didn't make any sense. so, here is the revised version. Maybe this one will be better)

It's not really a matter of ignorance (that is such an ugly word). It is more a matter of capability.


It is obvious that a 6 year old child does not possess the life experience and prerequisite concepts required to understand the intricate concepts and formulas of college algebra. Everyone understands that. There are however, many adults (me included) who have never learned enough of the basic foundations of mathematics to understand even the first thing about solving a quadratic equation. And although my 6 year old grandson would probably have a better shot at understanding it than I do, it would really be futile for anyone to attempt explaining it to either of us.

But this article is not about college algebra. It is about the frustration of trying desperately to get someone to understand something that they simply do not have the capability of understanding.

I received a letter last week. The letter, though kind, was not meant to flatter me or encourage me. It was quite the opposite. The letter was was written in plain English. However, the words and thoughts contained in the letter were as foreign to me as if they had been written in Greek.

The letter claimed that I had been brainwashed by evil misguided people. The letter writer pleaded with me to give up my sinful beliefs and to renounce my warped views of grace, acceptance, tolerance and unity. The letter conclude with a tearful prayer that I would return to my senses and to the “one and only true church” before it was everlastingly too late. It asked for a response.

How do I respond to that? How could I even begin to explain? Are they even capable of understanding?

Or, perhaps it is me who is incapable. Should I be so arrogant as to think that I am much wiser and above such drivel? No, that would put me on the same level as the letter writer. I am sure of two things: First, I am convinced that the letter writer was sincere. Secondly, I am convinced that the letter writer thinks that they are at the top of the religious learning curve and somehow I have fallen or been led off of the curve completely.

Part of my frustration lies in the fact that I am so easily drawn back into these old useless arguments. I have this terrible tendency to want to criticize the criticizers - denounce the denouncers – and condemn the condemners. I can tolerate anything but intolerance!

By the way, I did respond to the letter. I wish now that I had not.

Our Wonderful Weekend in Gatlinburg

To celebrate our 32 anniversary Lynetta and I enjoyed a great weekend in Gatlinburg. We went hiking, climbed on the rocks, and went shopping. The leaves were beautiful.The weather was perfect. The hiking was refreshing. The Outlet Malls were crowded, but our cabin was quiet and miles away from everyone. It's nice to get away every once in a while and just relax. It really is nice being married to your best friend too.

OOPS!

My cousin Roger should love this one. (He is a lineman for the power company in Arkansas)

It was simply too beautiful a fall day to stay inside and watch football. I needed action, adventure, fresh air, and exercise. I needed to do something manly. So I sharpened up my old chainsaw and proceeded to cut down the old dead tree in my back yard, the one that has been threatening to fall on my neighbor's power lines. I did everything right. I studied the angles - adjusted for the wind - cut the notch just right - rechecked the distribution of limb weight to trunk mass - and then - convinced and proud that I had done everything according to the Manly Man's Hand Book - I made my final cut.
Apparently I forgot to figure in the rotation of the earth....
The Picture tells the rest of the story.

Meaningless, Meaningless

"Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” What does man gain from all his labor at which he toils under the sun?

I meet an interesting old man last week. He was facing the end of his days here on earth. His lungs were diseased and scarred beyond repair - his heart was in even worse shape. He lacked the strength to even lift his head off the pillow. The doctors had done all they could do.
It wasn't his physical condition that made him so unusual, nor the fact that he only had a few days left to live. In my line of work I meet people like that every day. It was his dying wish that caught my attention.

He told me that all he really wanted was what he called a "temporary patch job". He only needed enough strength to make one last trip to the Casinos in Tunica Mississippi. That was it - that was his dying wish! He had convinced himself that all of the answers to all of his problems could somehow magically be fixed by one lucky tug on a slot machine handle.

His words really caught me off guard. How could anyone be so foolish? How could anyone really think that money was the answer for anything? It sounded so absurd coming from the lips of a dying man.

God has a subtle way of using the people around me to sometimes remind me of my own faults and my own insanity. It occurred to me that in reality the only difference between this poor misguided man and the rest of us, is the time he had left to live. We all waste our lives working hard and chasing after the things that are really meaningless. We neglect and misuse the truly important things in life because we are too busy working for the useless stuff.

More Strange Things

Here is one more entry from my list of strange things that I have learned over the past fifty years:
1. Life is not fair. It's not meant to be. In many ways I am glad that it's not. In my life I have been blessed beyond measure and the longer that I live the more I realise that I truly do not deserve any of it. If my health, wealth, and happiness were dependent upon or in direct proportion to how good, how righteous, or how well disciplined I was, then I would probably be cold, wet, and hungry living alone in a cardboard box somewhere.

Psalms 102:10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.


Psalms 16:5-6 LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.

Mile Stones

Life mile stones like hitting the big 5-0 are a good time for reflection. It's a good time for looking back at where you've been and wondering about the things you wish you could have done differently. it's also a great time for looking forward and hoping that you have matured and grown a little wiser. I pray that through the process of living these past 50 years I have learned enough about life and love and God's grace to help make me a better person.

Here is just one of the strange things that I've learned along the way:

Outwardly I feel like I'm falling apart. My glasses and my waist size are both getting thicker. Physically I feel 50. But inside I haven't changed much. My soul, my inner self, still feels just like it did at 18, 25, 30, and 40. I am convinced that if this old body holds on until 90 the spark inside me will be just as strong or stronger than it has ever been.

I keep finding that the words in the Bible are really true after all:

II Corinthians 4:16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.

Up Up and Away

Well, this week I finally pasted the half century mark. I celebrated my 50th birthday Tuesday by going to work and trying to pretend like it was just another day. My Coworkers bought me pizza and an icecream cake for lunch (so much for my new diet) Later that evening Lynetta surprised me with a very unusual gift.

For the past few years Lynetta has listened as I bemoaned the fact that I was tired of just watching other people live. I told her that with what time I have left I want to experience life for myself. No more sitting on the couch watching other people's adventures - I want to experience my own adventures. So, to shut me up she bought me a Hot Air Ballon Ride!!!!! Me and my big mouth.

I have always wanted to bungee jump too, but I was always afraid that when the time came for my feet to leave the platform that I just wouldn't be able to move. So, it's up up and away. Depending on the weather conditions I should be flying over Nashville within the next few weeks. I will take lots of pictures and some extra underwear.

Happiness Is....

Happiness is building your grandkids a new tree house.

Death before Change

I heard an interesting and disturbing statistic this week. I heard that more than 600,000 people have open heart surgery (CABG) each year in the United States. Of those 600,000 people, 90% make little or no lifestyle changes and end up right back on the operating table or dead within two years. Those who smoke continue to smoke. Those who are over weight and out of shape continue to live and eat just like they always have.
I work in the Cardiac Cath Lab at Maury Regional Hospital. I meet these people every day. Many of our patients are return customers. I see the disbelief, fear, and dread in their eyes when the doctor comes in and tells them that their arteries have clogged back up again. They say, “How could this be?” “How could I let this happen again?”
A heart attack is a major life changing event – it is literally life or death - do or die. If you are blessed enough to survive the first one you had better make the necessary changes in your lifestyle to prevent the second one. Everyone knows that. Everyone understands that. But the sad fact is that less than 10% do anything about it.
Is it because we fear change worse than we fear death? No, I don’t think so. I’m convinced that the 90% desire changes more than anything – but they are incapable of change. It is like pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. They don’t know how to live any other way.
What would it take to change your lifestyle? We all think that we are above all of this foolishness – I did. I told myself that I was much too smart and well educated to fall into that trap. But fall I did. (Proverbs 16:18)
I had my Heart Cath back in June. While there were no blockages, there was significant Coronary Artery Disease (arterial sclerosis). I admit that since June I have made no changes in my lifestyle. I have actually gained 5 more lbs. I am the 90%

Empty Nest?

Here is a sure fire way to avoid the "Empty Nest Syndrome" that most couples our age experience. Simply fill your house up with Grand kids. (it really helps to have a built in babysitter like Krysi)


Tyler and Emily Klair spent the night with us Friday night. We enjoyed playing around a campfire, riding the Four Wheeler, and going out for ice cream. Early the next morning Kinsley and Karlie came over to join in the fun. We went to soccer games and out for Happy Meals. It was quite a weekend.

At this rate Ma and I will probably be living in a nursing home before we ever experience that "Empty Nest Thing." Here is one more picture that I couldn't resist posting. Emily Klair took this one of Granny late Friday night. It looks like Granny has had about all of the fun she can handle. :)

Follow up to Counting the Cost

So what does all this mean and what does it have to do with me?
Well, the elderly couple in the previous article are my parents. I have told the story before about how I was disowned and disfellowshiped by my parents because of my "liberal" religious views. It has been six years this month since my parents have spoken to me or my children. I feel guilty about comparing their religious zeal to that of a radical extremist, but I must admit the concept is really similar.

I suppose after six years I should be over it - in many ways I am - in many ways I'm not. I still stuggle with how I am suppose to feel about all of this.

Please understand, I think my parents ideas and action are simple, misguided and cult-like. But I do not think of them as bad people. They are not bad - They are just the opposite. If you ever got the chance to meet them you would love them too.

I have come to accept the fact that nothing in this life will ever change this situation. I had a conversation recently with one of my parent's old freinds. They were talking about how sad the situation was. I assured them that I would change it if I could. They sadly agreed that there was nothing that could be done.

I know that I will not be welcome at their funerals. Perhaps I should just have my own little service for them and move on.

Counting the Cost - How much is too much?

The headlines were the same today as they have been for the past several years: “Six Killed in Suicide Bomb Blast.” It happens so often now that it seems we are becoming immune to it. The details of such tragedies are only deemed news worthy now if they happen close to home on American soil.
Have you ever wondered what would cause someone to go to such extremes? What could possibly motivate a person to strap a bomb to their own body, walk into a crowd of innocent people, and push the detonator? We use words like Radical Extremist to define these people. We tend to think of them as sick, twisted, disturbed, evil or insane. They would prefer that we used words like loyal, brave, servants, soldiers and Martyrs.
I admit that I know nothing about the Koran. I have never read it. I have however heard a few “Moderate Muslims” on The Fox News Channel claiming that the Muslim religion is really a religion of peace. They claim the Koran does not teach or promote such radical hatred and martyrdom. They claim that these “extremist” who are bent on killing themselves and everyone else are misguided and do not know their scriptures. But many readers and followers of the Koran obviously disagree with this view.
Is there such a thing as a Christian Radical Extremist? What does one look like?
I know an elderly couple who used to be members of a 1000+ member Church. What set this couple apart was their belief that passages like I Corinthians chapter 5 should be taken very literally. (Do not fellowship with immoral brothers, do not associate with or even eat with Christians who sin) Over time and through much study and reinforcement they came to identify and lump into this category of “sinners” anyone who happened to disagreed with their traditional religious views.
To make a long painful story shorter – Over time, while being loyal to their conviction, they have slowly disassociated themselves from most everyone they know. Friends and family were not immune to this strong doctrinal stance. As a mater of fact this couple has disowned and has no contact with two of their own children and several of their grand and great grand children. They have disassociated themselves into a very small corner. They now worship in a small congregation of 30 – 40 people
So, what is the point? On the one hand such loyalty and willingness to obey at any cost must be commendable. To sacrifice even fellowship with your own children to hold true to your convictions must be a grand virtue. Didn’t Jesus say that anyone who loves their father and mother, son or daughter more than me is unworthy of me? Surely one who is willing to sacrifice his own life for his cause or his God must be held in high esteem.
So when does religious fervor, dedication and commitment end and radical extremism start? How much is too much? How far is too far? I’m sure that the exact line is debatable. But I think it can most easily be defined by the victims. True religion should have no victims.
Matthew 22:37-40 Ecclesiastes 7:16

Sorting it all out

It has been awhile since I’ve written anything. I could blame my absence on a mixture of excuses. I could blame it on a critical lack of time, a sad lack of inspiration, or just plain laziness. But, to be quite honest, and maybe a little too revealing, I’ve been in sort of a funk lately – a mood that is very hard to define. I am quite certain that if I can somehow manage to get my heart around the exact thoughts and feelings that are causing this funk I will be able to talk myself out of it.
If you are one of those blessed people who never gets down then go ahead and skip this page. If you however are like most of us, and struggle with a dip in your joy meter every once in a while, then read on. And by all means please offer some comments, encouragements, and suggestions. Perhaps we can help each other.

The following thoughts and ideas are just my way of trying to sort it all out.

How could a life filled with so many blessings and so many reasons for thankfulness, happiness and joy sometimes feel so mundane and joyless? (I feel guilty even writing this question)
Intellectually I know the answer. My mind knows the story and the thoughts of King Solomon found in the book of Ecclesiastes but apparently my heart and soul have not yet grasped the concept.

Contentment vs. Complacency
I know that the Bible teaches that true happiness is found in contentment. (I Timothy 6:6-8, Philippians 4; 12, Proverbs 19:13, Ecclesiastes 12:13-14) However, does striving for self improvement physically, intellectually, or financially signal discontentment? Should I feel guilty when I long for self improvement? Is my desire for physical improvement just vanity? Could my desire for some financial stability be considered greed?

Again, intellectually I know the answer. Godliness and a Fear of the Lord must proceed and far outweigh all else. (Mark 6:33) Honestly, when it comes to text book answers, my head is a lot smarter than my heart – but my heart always wins. (Or perhaps, my trouble is just the opposite)
What do you think?

Our Little Beauty Queen

I just couldn't resist showing off our new little beauty Queen. Emily Klair was 1st Runner up in the Maury County Little Miss Pageant. We have enjoyed this precious smile for the past 4 years. I knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world noticed it. Great Job Emily Klair! We love you!

High School Football in Middle Tennessee

We went to the Columbia Central vs. Spring Hill high school football game Friday night. It was small town USA at it's finest. It raised my opinion of mankind in general, and it actually helped to soften my cynical attitude a little.

It was a prefect night for Football. There was a cool breeze and a big orange moon in the sky. (not UT orange)

The first thing that got my attention was watching and listening as the CHS Band marched on to the field to play the National Anthem. There was thunderous applause and cheers - most of it coming from the kids in the Spring Hill Band! Great Rivals cheering for each other - what's this world coming to?

The National Anthem always gets me. As the Colors were marched to the middle of the field there were many who didn't need to be told to stand. I looked around and there were many older men, veterans I suppose, who were already on their feet standing at attention. The heartfelt devotion and respect for the symbol of our country is alive and well here in Middle Tennessee.

The game was rather one sided but it didn't really matter. These young athletes were awesome and I would have been proud to have been sitting on either side of the arena.

Next was the half time show. Spring Hill's Band went first with a great oldies medley from the Beatles Magical Mystical Tour Album. The many hot hours of practice and the hard work these young people put into this show was evident. I loved it.

Central's half time show started with a short audio clip of a speech by John F Kennedy talking about the senselessness of violence. As if that wasn't moving enough - they played a beautiful rendition of the old hymn, "When Peace Like a River" (It is Well With My Soul). I was blown away.

As my wife and I were walking out after the game I got one more very moving surprise. I looked back on to the field to see a very large group of people huddled on the 50 yard line. The group was made up all of the coaches, athletes and cheer leaders from both schools. I noticed that there were even a few Officials and some parents in the group. They were all on their knees praying together.

I believe that many wars and acts of terrorism could be avoided if we would just invite the world to come and enjoy High School Football in Middle Tennessee. It just doesn't get any better than this.

Roller Disco?

Lynetta and I went rollerskating tonight!
The church had a family skating party. It was a costume party with a 70's theme. It was great! There were more Afros, bell bottoms, beads, and peace signs than we had seen since back when we were there the first time - back in the real 70's.
You see, Lynetta and I started dating when I was 13 years old. (1971) She actually gave me my 14Th birthday party. She lived across town, and I couldn't drive. The only time we got to see each other was at church. The only dates we ever got to go on were the monthly church skating parties. So, we never missed one.

Just to tell you how much things have changed since the real 70's; We were never allowed to play popular music at the church skating parties. The only music that was allowed was organ music. The Roller Rink had special records just for us. They (the church leaders and our parents) were afraid that we might play Rock and Roll. They thought skating to Rock and Roll looked too much like dancing. We heard many fiery sermons about avoiding even the "appearance of evil." We all thought it was ridiculous. How could rollerskating while listening to "real music" ever appear evil? We never really complained though - at least not out loud.

So tonight - some 36 years later - Lynetta and I enjoyed Rollerskating together again. My feet were killing me. I probably won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow. There were a couple of times that I wanted to take off my skates and quit. But, I knew from experience that the "Couple Skate" was near the end of the night. I remembered that 36 years ago the "Moonlight Couple Skate" was the highlight of my month. Things haven't changed much after all.

A Cool Breeze?

Today is the eleventh straight day that Middle Tennessee has had temps over the 100 degree mark. In my typical lazy man fashion I am using this extended heat wave to my advantage.
I have a long list of things that really need to be done around my house, but its just too hot :)

As I was puttering around my back yard this morning I could have sworn that I felt a cool breeze. It only lasted for a second, and it was just slightly cooler than the dry blistering air that surrounded me, but it gave me a chill. This phantom breeze rustled the leaves on the trees sending many of them falling to the ground. For just a split second it reminded me of Fall - my favorite time of year.

I spent the rest of the morning procrastinating and dreaming of the cooler days to come. I made a list of all the grand things that I will accomplish when the weather becomes more favorable.
It seems that I am always waiting for something. My list of dreams, goals and simple everyday chores keeps growing - but so does my list of excuses.

So I'm writing this simply to remind myself of this hot day in August. A day when I had all the time in the world and accomplished absolutely nothing. I plan on rereading this post in February when I'm sure that I will be procrastinating and dreaming of warm summer days. Yeah, that's when I'll get busy- that's when I'll get it all done.

Lynetta's lines

I took Matthew up to Lipscomb College Monday. I helped him set up his dorm room. I organized his closet. I made up his bed. I did everything a mother should do - then I kissed him good-bye and I left. I held up pretty well - at least until I got in the car and drove away. All year long I have been trying to prepare myself for this day. I knew from my experience with sending Kari and Andrea off to college how hard it was going to be. But, sending Matthew off to college was only part of the challenge that I faced.

Matthew has always talked to us about someday finding his biological mother. Gary and I have always supported him and encouraged him. We told him that we would help him anyway that we could. I guess I just never dreamed it would happen so quicky.

You would think that I would have learned by now to simply trust God and let him lead. But I must admit that I am still struggling with that one. If I were allowed to write the ending to Matthew's story I'm not so sure that I could. Perhaps I am being nieve, perhaps I am being a little over protective, perhaps a little selfish. While I was thinking of words like closure and acceptance and moving on, God was using words like relationship, new beginnings, and family.

I understand that the words that God seems to be choosing for Matthew are much better than the ones I had in mind but they are unexpected and to be honest they are a little scary. But I'll be fine (a little insecure, but fine) God and I have had differences of opinion before. Luckily, he always wins.

Psamls 139 3-6 (Easy to read version) Lord, you know what I want to say, even before the words leave my mouth. Lord you are all around me - in front and in back of me. You gently put your hand on me. I am amazed at what you know. It is too much for me to understand.

My Latest Reason To Worry

Just thought that I would lighten up a little and share with you just one more reason for my gray hair and shattered nerves. Jesi got her licence last week. Lord help us all :)

Two Sides to Every Airport

While picking up Matthew at the airport Saturday Lynetta and I noticed something profound. We noticed it at about the same time.

One of our shared hobbies has always been people watching - especially in airports. We love to watch people interact and then try to figure out their stories.
We were watching a young Asian couple quietly huddled together on a bench. It was obvious from their affections that one of them would soon be leaving and one of them would be staying behind. Perhaps it was just the mood we were in (a direct result of the emotional roller coaster we have been on lately) but the scene soon became very sad and very hard to watch. The closer the time came for the one to depart, the more desperate and intense the embraces became. They were not even trying to hide their tears. It was as if no one else was around.
Of course there were other people around - lots of people. We saw a little boy clinging to his grandmother. He was crying (more like wailing) and pleading with her not to leave. There was a large family obviously sending their first child off to some far away college. The emotions were intense - the scenes all heartbreaking. We soon found ourselves being drawn into the sadness.
We watched as the young Asian couple finally separated - their fingers reaching and touching just as far and as long as they could. It was the man who was leaving. The young woman stood alone and watched him until he finally disappeared behind the terminal. Then she slowly turned and walked away - alone - in a sea of people - desperately alone. The tears in her eyes and the pain in her heart were contagious. We didn't know her, but our hearts were breaking for her
Then, suddenly, across the aisle, on the other side of the airport, we heard cheering - shouts of joy and celebration. It seemed very out of place and highly inappropriate.
We quickly realised that there was another side to this airport. There was the departure side and there was the arrival side. The departure side was sad, painful, and depressing. The arrival side on the other hand was pure joy. Lynetta and I looked at each other at same time and smiled. Almost in unison we said, "Were sitting on the wrong side of the airport!"

As we travel through this life we must endure many departures - some short term ones, and others more permanent. It helps to know that the more painful and difficult the departure, the sweeter and more glorious the reunion. In other words, no matter how tough it gets down here in this life just remember: We are all just temporarially sitting on the wrong side of the airport.

Revelation 21:4 And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

This is a picture that Matthew brought back from Florida. The lady that looks like so much like Matthew is his birth mother Laura. Beside her is her husband John, Connor age 14, Blake age 10, and Austin age 8.

A Quick Update

Matthew called today. He is doing fine. Actually he's doing great.. It seems that his birth family lives on a lake, and have a boat, with lots of toys. So don't feel too sorry for him.
Lynetta and I celebrated his good furtune by going to Walmart and spending $300.00 on stuff he will need to head off to college Monday. So, life goes on.
When he gets home maybe I can talk him into writing on this blog and sharing some of his pictures and stories.
Thank you all for your interest, thoughts, comments and prayers!

Waiting for Word

Today the National news is fixed on the unknown fate of the six miners trapped in a coal mine out in Utah. The agony of each passing minute for the families and loved ones is unimaginable.
My heart truly goes out to them. I have prayed for those families. I ask you to do the same.
I do not in anyway mean to minimise the horror of that situation, but I wanted to tell you about another agonizing wait.

Lynetta put Matthew on an airplane this afternoon and sent him off to Florida. There waiting for him to get off of that plane in Tampa was Laura, his birth mother, Connor, his 15 year old full brother, and Blake and Austin, his 10 & 8 year old half brothers, and his maternal grandparents.
We are very grateful that Matthew is getting this opportunity to meet his birth family, but we must admit it is a little unnerving - especially for Lynetta.

So, here we sit waiting for word - any word. We know that he got there safe - and we are greatful. We know that he will be treated with all of the love in the world - and we are greatful. But what we really need to know is how he is inside. Matthew is a very mature independent young man in many ways, but he is still very young at heart. We are still, I suppose, a little over protective of that heart.

Tonight after supper I pulled out a few old photographs of Matthew and his sisters. I heard sniffling behind me. I turned around to see Lynetta with big crocodile tears in her eyes. So I put the pictures away and gave her a big hug.

Every time the phone rings we both jump out of our skin. He had better call soon!

Reunion

I'm sorry that I have not updated this blog in a while. There has been a lot going on.
The Letters that arrived were awsome. Laura sounds like everything we have always prayed that she would be. It is a very exciting, emotional and nervous time for all of us - especially Matthew.

Laura told Matthew that he has a grandfather who has been praying for him by name each day for the past 18 years. He is now in poor health and he has made it his dream to someday meet Matthew. Well, he will soon get the chance. I just bought Matthew an airline ticket. He flys out next Thursday morning. Please keep him in your prayers. (He is trying to be cool about this, but we can tell that it really has him tore up)

Where is Geraldo Rivera and his camera crew when you need him? This reunion would make a great TV movie!

The Letters

We received two letters in the mail yesterday. One was addressed to Matthew - the other to Matthew's parents. They arrived just in time for Matthew's eighteenth birthday.
It's really too soon to reveal the content of the letters publicly, but I will tell you that they were from a wonderful Christian lady named Laura. (see part one)

The Lessons Get Harder

The next Lesson I learned was just as clear as the first but much harder to accept.
It is also much harder to explain. So, please bare with me.

Some of you will understand the lesson immediately. Others, who don't know my background, or the heritage in which I was raised will not.

I find it very difficult to describe the feelings of gratitude, freedom, and relief that we felt in the first few months after Matthew's final surgery. We did not actually realize the stress we had lived through for those 3 years until it was all over. I say that just to try and explain the emotions that were still very raw at the time of lesson number 2.

It happened on a Sunday evening. Because Lynetta and the kids were out of town, I ended up going to my friend's church to visit with him. This church was right down the street from the one we were attending at the time. It was not the type of church I was used to. To be honest it was the type of church I had heard preached against and condemned all of my life.

I slipped in the back door. I was afraid that someone from my home church would see me walking in. I would have a lot of explaining to do if that happened. The service had already started so I hid in the back row. My good friend Tim was the piano player. He saw me hiding.
He later said that he had to laugh because I looked so uncomfortable and out of place.

I don't remember much about the service. I do however remember not approving of the things that I saw. These people did not act like the people I was used to. They obviously did not understand the Bible. They obviously did not know the accepted pattern for God approved worship that my church knew. I spent the first thirty minutes of the service taking mental notes of all the religious error that I was seeing. Then something jolted me awake.

The preacher was actually talking to me! "Oh great," I thought. I'm not hiding as well as I thought. "Do you believe that God answers prayer?" he bellowed. Well of course I did. If he only knew my story he would know how deeply and completely that I believed in the power of prayer.
I slightly nodded my approval.

"If you truly believe in the power of prayer I want you to stand up right where you are!"
I was caught! I could not deny my conviction - not after what God had just done for me and my family. So I stood up. I remember praying: "OK God - this is far enough - Get me out of here."

It got worse: "It is not by chance or accident that you are here tonight." (this guy had been reading my mail) "We need everyone here tonight - who believes in God's power to heal - to come down to the front of this auditorium and pray with us."

Ha! Nice try. It ain't happening! I stayed put.

Then something happened that shook me so deeply that I almost ran down the aisle. There was a young woman standing in the front of the church. She appeared to be in her late teens. She held a new born infant in her arms. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. I could see a very familiar desperation in her eyes. Her child was sick. He was born with a serious birth defect. The Doctors said that the prognosis was very poor. She was pleading with God to let him live.

To make a long painful story short, I went and I cried, and I prayed. I held hands with people who loved God - people who truly believed that God was listening and that he cared - People who were not of my religious heritage or my stripe - people who acted and worshiped a little differently than I was used to. That night we had a common purpose and a common Lord and Savior. That night we were brothers. That night it dawned on me that we had been brothers all along.

That last realisation ultimately cost me my church family. It ultimately cost me my parents and my earthly brother and sister. My earthly family has not spoken to me or my wife, or my children in over 5 years. In their eyes I have abandoned "The Church" - I have left "The Faith." But it's OK, I understand. They have very deep convictions too.

Oh, and just to finish the story, God did answer the prayers of the people assembled there that Sunday evening. The child lived.

Lessons I've Learned

Maybe I'm just a slow learner. There are still many things that happened during Matthew's experience that I am still trying to process. I knew that God was trying to teach me something, and most of it came through loud and clear. But there are still some things that remain a little fuzzy.
Let's start with the really clear things:

I no longer believe in luck, chance or coincidence. God is is control - even when we don't want him to be. Looking back, I can see several times when I tried real hard to mess this whole story up. But God just wouldn't let me.

Here is just one example that I skipped back in part 2:

Working for General Motors has it's perks, but it was not always easy. During my first 10 years with the company I was laid off more than I worked. During these down times I had several odd jobs - one of which was a part time Fireman. It was a great Job, and I loved it. The trouble was we could not live off the part time wages.
The small Township department had 9 full time positions. I knew that If I could ever land one of those positions, I would be set. So the first time a spot came open, I was ready!
I spent 6 months working out, studying, and praying that God would be with me and help me get this job. After all of the testing and the physical agility evaluation, out of over 300 applicants, I came in 2nd. The Township only hired one. Needless to say God and I were not on speaking terms for a while. The way I figured it, I had tried my best, so it must have been God's fault.
The next time they hired I didn't do as well. I came out 3rd. They hired two. I really felt like God was toying with me.
The next time I decided I was going to do it all myself - no praying - no asking God for any favors. I studied harder, and worked out more than I ever had in my short chubby life. I was determined to be first.
The first day was the written test. That was a breeze. I was number one! The next day was the physical agility test. Because I knew the Captain I had a slight advantage in this category. He let me go with him over to the police academy to pick up a 135lb sand dummy they were going to use for the agility test. I remember that the dummy was in the basement down three flights of stairs. I picked the dummy up with one hand, flung it over my shoulder and walked back up the stairs without breaking a sweat. I had it made! There was no way anyone was going to beat me.
The next day I was first in every category. At the end of the day all I had to do is pick up the same dummy and walk up two flights of stairs and the job was mine. My friend (the Captain) was smiling from ear to ear. He knew I could do it. But God had other plans for me.
I bent down and grabbed the dummy - just like the day before - and it didn't budge! At first I laughed thinking that my buddies were playing a trick on me. I thought that they had glued the dummy to the floor. The captains smile vanished. He said, "come on Anderson, quit goofing around." I wasn't goofing around! The dummy would not budge. The test was timed. I had three minutes to get this dummy up the stairs. For three desperate minutes I pulled with everything I had. Nothing.

Looking back I can now picture an angel sitting on the head of that dummy laughing at me.
You see if I had got the job, we would never have come to Columbia. We would have never heard of Matthew, or Jesi, or Krysi, or Tyler, or Emily Klair, or Kinsley, or Karlie, or Maury Hills for that matter. God really does know best.

Matthew Today

Well, here he is. He turns 18 July 28th. Then he is heading off to Lipscomb in the fall. His story is far from over.
Matthew's story is really a story about how God cares for us and works in all of our lives - not because of us - but in spite of us - not because of who we are - but because of who he is. Lynetta and I are just grateful to have had the chance to watch him in action.

Part Four

Thank you all for your interest and comments on Matthew's story. It is one we have been longing to tell for a long time. We just haven't had many chances to do so.

Part Four

The surgery was a success and Matthew became an instant celebrity.
He was only the 7th person in the United States to have this surgery. He was one of even less who survived it. He was in all the Medical Journals. His case is still talked about in the teaching curriculum at Vandy.

Everything was fine for a while. Matthew was finally starting to grow. You can only imagine how truly thankful and happy we were.

But everything was not fine. We noticed that Matthew didn’t seem to have much energy. This little fireball who never sat still was now having trouble even walking from the car to the house. So, it was back to the doctors.

When the blood work came back the results were not good. Matthew's Red Blood Count was dangerously low. Test revealed that his bone marrow had stopped producing Red blood cells.
As far as we knew this could only mean one thing.

In a perfect world, the words “Pediatric Oncologist” would never be needed. But this world is far from perfect.

I remember walking into the office. This time I was mad! I was mad at God. How could he allow such a thing? After all we had been through – why me?
Then I looked around the room at the faces and the bald heads of the kids waiting there to see the doctor. I looked into the tired desperate eyes of the parents. Then I started thinking, “Why not me?” Why do me and my family deserve God’s blessing and protection and these people do not?

It wasn’t cancer. It ended up being a simple thing that the doctors had simply over looked. The part of Matthew’s intestines that absorbed B12, (The nutrient needed for your bone marrow to make RBCs) was missing. He just had to have a few shot each month to fix it. I remember feeling so guilty walking back out of that office through the crowd of parents and kids that were not going to hear such good news.

Part 3

Part 2 is an interesting story about how God moved us to Tennessee. But while it may be interesting, it is not really relevent to the rest of the story. Other than to say that God made sure that we just happened to be in the right place - at the right time - talking to just the right people. So, skip to part three......

Part Three:

William survived the initial surgery but it was only the first of many. He was hooked up 24hrs per day to TPN (Total Peripheral Nutrition) and Lipids (intravenous Fats) to keep him alive. He was in tremendous pain. He should have been miserable but he didn’t know it. He smiled and laughed a lot. He won the hearts of his Nurses, who renamed him, Matthew (God’s Gift)

The director of the adoption agency did not forget his promise. He and his wife went and spent 2 months at Shand’s Hospital in Tampa, Florida learning how to care for the baby.

Shands had a revolutionary new program where children with Matthew’s condition (known as short gut syndrome) were given little transistorized IV pumps which they could carry in a little back pack. This allowed them to leave the hospital for short periods of time, and try to live as normal of a life as possible. 3 Months and several surgeries later Matthew was finally ready to leave the Hospital.

He went home with Larry & Nancy Carroll, the directors of Christian Family Services.
Larry and Nancy loved Matthew and they took tremendous care of him, but they knew that they were not the ones to adopt him. They began praying along with their church family (The Crossroads Church of Christ in Gainesville) for God to find a forever family for Matthew.

The Bible talks about Peter having the courage to step out of the boat and walk on the water. Well, as far as Lynetta and I were concerned, it wasn’t courage – we didn’t actually step out of the boat, we sort of fell out of the boat. Looking back now it was more like we were pushed out.

We just happened to be in the right State, the right Town, and the right Church, on just the right Sunday to hear from a couple who had just returned from Gainesville. They were there adopting their daughter. While there, they meet this beautiful little boy who needed a forever family – and the rest was history. Against all odds Matthew came to Tennessee.

The next 3 years were a blur. We spent more time in Vanderbilt then we spent at home. Matthew's 2 new older sisters, Kari and Andrea, were crazy about him and took tremendous care of him, but I know that it was very hard on them. We were never home.

We spent all of the holidays at the hospital. I remember one Thanksgivings in particular: We were all at the hospital, eating the same old cafeteria food. We should have been miserable. I would have usually complained and felt sorry for myself. But, I remember us all being happy and being truly thankful that we were all just able to be together.

The Nurses at Vandy learned to love Matthew as well. One of his favorite nurses lovingly nick named him POOP HEAD. She said he could fill up a wagon quicker than anyone she had ever seen. (He'll kill me for that one)


Matthew’s condition remained critical. He struggled with fevers and infections and life threatening sepsis. His hospital chart far out weighed him. Each time we ended up back in Vanderbilt we feared that this hospital stay would be his last.

Matthew lost several room mates and friends
There was Josh the little 6 year old who loved to share Matthew’s pop tarts. He died of a brain infection
There was Dalton, a beautiful happy little 9 mos old that died of the exact condition Matthew had.
There was Mandy an unbelievably sweet little 3 year old girl with the same problem as Matthew, who died on the way to the Mayo Clinic where she was going to have a life saving transplant.

Finally when Matthew was 3 years old his Doctors came to us and told us we had a very serious decision to make. It was obvious that Matthew could not live much longer in the condition he was in. His only chance for survival was a new yet untested procedure in which his short distended small bowel was cut into pieces and manipulated to form a more normal shaped intestine. The trouble was it was an all or nothing gamble, either it worked or it didn’t. Failure meant certain death. So we prayed like we had never prayed before

As we were waiting in the Matthew's room on the day of the surgery, Matthew started laughing and talking with someone who wasn’t there. He told us there were beautiful butterflies flying around the ceiling by his bed. The Nurses said it was hallucinations caused by the sedation medication they had just given him. Perhaps it was. Lynetta and I knew that they were not butterflies. We knew they were angels. But we didn’t know if they were there to protect him or take him home.

The hardest thing we have ever had to do in our lives was hand that baby over to the surgeons not knowing if we would ever see him alive again. So we wept, and we prayed, and we left him in the hands of God.

Part One

The following story is true - or at least it is as far as we know and believe. It happened eighteen years ago, and Lynetta and I were not there for part one.


Part One:
Her name was Laura. She was seventeen years old, soon to be eighteen. She was tall with a slender build. She was a very beautiful girl. She had done some modeling. She loved sports and music. She was very talented and very popular.

Perhaps she grew up to fast or not fast enough. She made a mistake – a terrible mistake – one that would change her life forever.

The advice she received was overwhelming. She was too young, too pretty, too talented. She had too much promise to be side tracked by a simple mistake. An abortion was the only solution. Everyone thought so, that is everyone but Laura. Call it conscious, call it guilt, or better yet call it a “still small voice” that said “no Laura,” “trust me,” “have the baby.” Everyone thought she was making an even bigger mistake, but she was determined this time to try to do what was right.

She contacted Christian Family Service, a Church of Christ group out of Gainesville Florida that takes in unwed mothers. They take them into their homes, take them to their doctor visits, pay their medical expenses, and teach them about the love of Jesus. All in exchange for allowing them to place the babies into Christian homes for adoption.

They welcomed Laura, and everything was fine - fine that is until the fourth month doctor visit.
The ultra sound showed a serious birth defect. The doctors detected a hole in the abdominal wall that allowed the small intestine to herniate or protrude and develop outside the abdomen. They called this congenital defect gastroschisis and the prognosis was very poor.

Again the advice was overwhelming. An abortion was the only answer. Laura was scared and uncertain, but she remained determined. But this time Laura was not alone. The Christian family that had taken her into their home assured her that God was listening, and if anyone had the power to make it right, it was him. So they prayed.

Perhaps it was because she was so young, perhaps it was because the baby was too sick, and didn’t have a chance anyway, but the doctors choose to allow the baby to be born naturally. A vaginal delivery for this baby was to say the least devastating.

Most of us are born with at least 12 feet of small intestines. The trauma of the delivery destroyed the unprotected intestines. The baby was rushed to the OR and after extensive surgery only 18 cm were salvaged. Not enough to sustain him nutritionally. He would never leave the hospital. He would be condemned to live out his painful short existence hooked to wires, tubes and IV’s lying in a hospital bed.

She named him William. She stayed for a while. But the tubes and wires and the pain finally got to be too much. She wondered if she had done the right thing. She prayed, she wept, and then she left him in the hands of God.

The Circle

One of my "defining moments" during our Belize trip was "The Circle."
Each morning before we began the clinic, we would all form a circle, sing a song, and say a prayer for the people of Belize.
Sounds pretty ordinary and boring I know. But given the fact that 100 people were already there waiting in line, listening and watching, made it very powerful and moving. I could'nt help but wonder what these people were thinking as they watched us strange Americans - most of us with tears in our eyes and big smiles on our faces. It was absolutly the pretiest music I have ever heard.

Wes Relaxing

Here is Wes Duncan (He was the life of the whole party) Relaxing on Ambergris Cay.

Wes was our Eye Doctor this year. You can't see it in this picture but Wes has a heart the size of Texas.

Lynetta & Gary

Here is a picture of me and Lynetta from our last night in Belize. We were at a mexican restaurant on Ambergris Cay. So our trip wasn't all work and no play.

Where is God?

This is a reprint of a comment i made on Russ' blog last week. I wanted to show you the pictures of the little boy we found.

When Lynetta and I first went back into the village, I was pretty upset. I was actually a little mad - at God. I thought: "how could the same God who blesses me so much simply forget these precious people? " When I finally got brave enough to get out of the van I noticed a little girl about 6 years old peeking out from behind what looked like a broken down chicken coope. I went back through the weeds to talk to her. Her teenage sister appeared from behind the same chicken coope (which was really their house)She told me that her brother needed a doctor but could not come out of the house because he had sores all over him. As I looked around the back of the house, I saw the little boy throught the door. It took my breath away. Over 50% of this little boy's body was covered with open sores. My first thought was leprosy. We all waited while his sister put some pants on him, then we rushed him to Martin Chaney. It turns out that it was a very servere case of Impetigo. Left untreated he probably would not have lived through the year.the odds of us finding this little boy hiding in his house was a million to one.

So, where was God? He was busy leading this Belize team from half way across the continent right to this little boy's house. God really is good.

What do Heros Look Like?

I meet some interesting people last week. They looked like ordinary people. They were hot, sweaty, tired, and hungry. They looked out of place in the little make-shift medical clinic. They looked like rich, spoiled Americans. But, I know what they really were - they were heros.

Since there was no where to buy lunch, these rich spoiled Americans had stuffed their backpacks full of snacks to get them through the day. But when they found themselves surrounded by children, who's only food consisted of a few small fish they had cought in a polluted creek, and a handfull of rice, they quickly lost their appitites. Soon all of the children were all walking around with cupcakes, candy bars, and peanut butter crackers. The heros were still hot, sweaty, tired and hungry. Their backpacks were empty. But, their hearts seemed somehow fuller than they had ever been.

I am convinced that given the oppertunity everyone I know would have reacted the exact same way. There is really a hero living in all of us.

II Corinthians 9:11 You will be made rich in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

Home Safe & Sound - But Somehow Different

We are finally home! We arrived in Nashville last night about 8:30. It was quite an adventure - a life changing adventure. Thank you to all of our family and friends who missed us, and prayed for us. I can't wait to share with you all of the pictures and the stories. As soon as we catch our breath I will start writing. I really hope you kept up with us through Russ' Blog . If not please go check it out.

Belize Medical Mission Trip

This Saturday, June 30, Lynetta and I will be heading down to Belize in Central America on a Medical Mission trip. We are going with a group from the Maury Hills church, Carmack Bulavard Church of Christ, and the Hohenwald Church of Christ. Lynetta went with the group 2 years ago. This will be my first time.

According to Lynetta and the others who have been before it is a life changing experience. I believe that it just might be. Because, after all of the horror stories about bugs, snakes, monkeys that bite, sickness, heat, hour long boat rides through less than ideal conditions, rude customs agents and bad plane flights, Lynetta still longs to go back. It has been her dream ever since she came back the first time to return again and take me with her. So, here we go.

So please remember to pray for us. Pray for the safety of our team. Pray that we will all model the love of Jesus to everyone we meet and everyone we serve.

Oh yeah, and while your at it, please pray for our teenagers that we will be leaving at home. Pray that they will behave and not kill each other before we get back.

To see daily updates of our trip go to the Maury Hills web site, or Russ Adcox' blog page. (Both links are at the bottom of the page.)

3 Down, 2 To Go

When you have 5 kids you would think that some of the standard milestones in life would become a little more familiar and a little easier to handle. Well here we are graduating number 3 and it wasn't any easier. Me and Ma still spent the entire evening wiping away tears.

I still remember the lost feeling I had when we dropped Kari, our eldest, off at college in Searcy Arkansas - some 5 hours away. Just knowing that we were not going to see her from August until she came home that fall for Thanksgiving was a little overwhelming to say the least. We really thought it would be easier with the next one. Andrea went to Tennessee Tech. only 2 hours away - it wasn't. I was surprised to feel the same sense of loss and emptiness that I felt with the first one.

Well here we go again. Matthew plans to go to Lipscomb this fall. Lipscomb is less than an hour away. But I know from experience now that the distance does not have much to do with it. The loss and the emptiness is real no matter how far away they go.

I always jokingly say that I will be dancing when I finally get the last one through school. But I don't really mean it. Yes, I've been there - done that, but that just means I know what to expect. So if you happen to see me or Lynetta at the next two graduations, and you happen to need a Kleenex, just ask. We will have a pocket full.

May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. We will shout for joy when you are victorious and lift up our banners in the name of our God. May he grant all your request Psalms 20: 4-5

More than I could ever imagine

If someone had told me 20 years ago that I would be traveling around middle Tennessee on a Harley Davidson, I would have thought they were crazy.
But that is exactly what Ma and I have been doing.

As we were cruising down the Natchez Trace Parkway, enjoying some of the most beautiful scenery in the entire world, three things occurred to me:

First, was how much my life has changed from my Northern, Buick City, industrial, inner city roots. Not that my roots, my upbringing, or my other life was bad – it wasn’t. It was just different – really different. It was a different time and a world away – so much so that there are times it doesn’t even seem real. But that’s another story for another time.

The second thing I realized was how truly blessed I am. God has changed my life and blessed me with way more already than I could ever ask for or imagine. Not that I deserve it mind you – I don’t – I mean I really don’t! In fact I deserve just the opposite. But God, because he is God, has blessed me in spite of me.

The last thing was how eternity really starts now. Those of us waiting for Heaven or the great hereafter to start enjoying God’s blessing are really missing out on what the great Satchmo called A Wonderful World.


Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Ephesians 3:20

Me and some Biker Chick

This Picture is from April of this year. Old news I know, but I thought you may need to know what two old folks like Lynetta and I were doing in Panama City Beach during spring break.

We took our three youngest and each of them got to take a friend. So us "old folks" got to hang out with six teenagers for spring break. It was actually a lot of fun.