Prompt: List the 10 Biggest Turning Points in Your Life, Ilene Segalove and Paul Bob Velick,
List Yourself
In chronological order:
1. Decision to attend Hendrix College
2. Marriage to Becky and birth of Sara
3. Decision to quit Law School after two years
4. Decision to be ordained in the United Methodist Church
5. Becky's health issues
6. Work on new mission and ministry plan at Lexington First UMC
7. Decision to retire at age 54
8. Opportunity to work with District Superintendents, Ben Boone and Joy Weathersbee
9. Marital difficulties and reconciliation with Becky in August, 2013
10. Decision to return to active status and serve Forest Heights UMC in 2009
11. Retirement in July, 2013
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
"I think you'd better give me that gun."
Prompt: Recall a situation when your courage was tested
from www.journalingprompts.com
I'm not sure whether this situation was an act of courage or merely a thoughtless reaction which placed me in danger but turned out well.
I was the Associate Pastor at Grace UM Church in Memphis. One afternoon the secretary and I were the only persons in the building. I was at my desk with my back to the door, and the secretary was sitting at a table, facing the back wall of the main office, unable to see the office door or the room.
For some long-forgotten reason, I left my desk and entered the main office. I saw a junior high-aged boy with a gun in his hand walking toward the secretary. Without thinking, I said, "I think you'd better give me that gun." He did. He gave me the gun! Of all the options he had, he walked over and gave the gun to me.
I said, "You wait here while we call the police." Realizing that he still had options, the boy ran out of the room, out of the building, never to be seen again. (I didn't have the gun pointed at him, trying to hold him in place. I suppose I thought that since he had been so cooperative once, he would cooperate again.)
We called the police, who arrived quickly. The first officer who entered the room said, "I think you'd better give me that gun," I did. It was loaded.
from www.journalingprompts.com
I'm not sure whether this situation was an act of courage or merely a thoughtless reaction which placed me in danger but turned out well.
I was the Associate Pastor at Grace UM Church in Memphis. One afternoon the secretary and I were the only persons in the building. I was at my desk with my back to the door, and the secretary was sitting at a table, facing the back wall of the main office, unable to see the office door or the room.
For some long-forgotten reason, I left my desk and entered the main office. I saw a junior high-aged boy with a gun in his hand walking toward the secretary. Without thinking, I said, "I think you'd better give me that gun." He did. He gave me the gun! Of all the options he had, he walked over and gave the gun to me.
I said, "You wait here while we call the police." Realizing that he still had options, the boy ran out of the room, out of the building, never to be seen again. (I didn't have the gun pointed at him, trying to hold him in place. I suppose I thought that since he had been so cooperative once, he would cooperate again.)
We called the police, who arrived quickly. The first officer who entered the room said, "I think you'd better give me that gun," I did. It was loaded.
Monday, October 14, 2013
What I inherited from my mother
Prompt: Something you inherited from your mother
Judy Reeves, A Writer's Book of Days
Among the many treasures, material and immaterial, which I inherited from my mother, were two recipes. Most cooks have a favorite chili recipe, but very few people have even heard of tomato gravy.
The latter is a breakfast gravy, served over biscuits, not a dinner gravy for mashed potatoes. After I left for college, was married and started a family, my mother always prepared tomato gravy for me when we returned home. I say "for me," because my wife and daughter didn't particularly care for it. When Sara was a married adult, she gave it a try and loves it. We "shared a bowl" on my recent trip to Atlanta.
I must admit to ruining the dish for my wife. Shortly after we were married, she tried her hand at preparing tomato gravy. Too dumb for words, I said, "Is that all you're making?" and that was it for tomato gravy at our home.
Here is a good shortcut version of the tomato gravy recipe. The real thing must remain a family secret!
Judy Reeves, A Writer's Book of Days
Among the many treasures, material and immaterial, which I inherited from my mother, were two recipes. Most cooks have a favorite chili recipe, but very few people have even heard of tomato gravy.
The latter is a breakfast gravy, served over biscuits, not a dinner gravy for mashed potatoes. After I left for college, was married and started a family, my mother always prepared tomato gravy for me when we returned home. I say "for me," because my wife and daughter didn't particularly care for it. When Sara was a married adult, she gave it a try and loves it. We "shared a bowl" on my recent trip to Atlanta.
I must admit to ruining the dish for my wife. Shortly after we were married, she tried her hand at preparing tomato gravy. Too dumb for words, I said, "Is that all you're making?" and that was it for tomato gravy at our home.
Here is a good shortcut version of the tomato gravy recipe. The real thing must remain a family secret!
Not Quite Mom's Tomato Gravy
2 Tbs margarine
2 Tbs flour
1/2 cup milk
1 (14.5 oz) can diced tomatoes
1 tsp sugar
1/4 to 1/2 tsp pepper
Melt margarine in saucepan over medium heat. Stir flour into milk until well mixed. Add mixture to margarine and cook 1 minute, constantly stirring. Add diced tomatoes, sugar, and pepper. Cook, stirring often, 3 to 5 minutes or until thickened. Serve over hot biscuits.
The secrets for the chili recipe are using olive oil and red beans (not red kidney beans.)
Mom's Chili
Saute one small onion and one pod garlic in olive oil. Brown 1 to 1.5 pounds hamburger meat in same skillet. Add 1 Tbs flour, 1 can diced tomatoes, 1 can tomato paste, 1 can tomato sauce, 1 can red beans, 1 tsp cumin, chili powder to taste, water to thin (if desired.) Simmer for one hour.
Enjoy!
Thursday, October 10, 2013
What situations make you most nervous? Most confident?
The title is the prompt. It comes from the Kaizen Journaling website.
The answer to both questions is the same -- speaking in public. Admittedly, it is a strange answer for a pastor. A pastor's ministry consists largely of speaking words appropriate to the occasion. Words are the raw material with which a pastor works every day. The occasions are numerous and various: visiting a new family in town, comforting a grieving spouse, answering a question at a committee meeting, praying at a civic gathering, preaching on Sunday morning. By and large, words are all we have with which to persuade, challenge, comfort, teach or inspire other people. Yet, as a pastor, speaking in public is the occasion which makes me feel both most nervous and most confident.
Perhaps some examples would be helpful.
* In high school, before my pastoring days, my speech class traveled to Duke University for a competition. Without consultation, the teacher entered me in the Extemporaneous Speaking event. What a mistake! I was as nervous as a cat in a thunderstorm.
* In one of my early local church appointments I developed an anxiety about making the announcements on Sunday mornings. It was serious enough that I called the Lay Leader, who was also a good friend, for a cup of coffee. He offered to do the announcements, but I declined and eventually grew into the responsibility.
* Confidence in preaching was mostly a matter of experience. In the beginning I was nervous because I wasn't very good. Practice didn't make perfect, but it did make the preaching better and that increased my confidence. I also had a couple of insights. For one thing, as a preacher, I "grow on" people. One sermon might be disappointing, but, over a period of time, the sermons were effective and appreciated. That realization instilled confidence.
Secondly, an important awareness: If the congregation trusts you, knows that you care about them and will be there for them -- if you have integrity and compassion -- they are far more responsive to your preaching.
* Finally, I am an introvert in an environment which has extroverted expectations. As an introvert, anxiety in public speaking is a default response. In order to be effective as a pastor, however, I learned to function as an extrovert when necessary. By nature I am quiet in small group gatherings. Through experience, I learned to speak up and make my contribution. There were occasions, in fact, when I wish that I had shut up before I did. On balance, however, I accepted my introverted personality, but on occasion functioned in other ways, to the extent that I was able.
Strange, but true for most of my adult life: the situations which have made me most nervous and most confident have been occasions of public speaking.
The answer to both questions is the same -- speaking in public. Admittedly, it is a strange answer for a pastor. A pastor's ministry consists largely of speaking words appropriate to the occasion. Words are the raw material with which a pastor works every day. The occasions are numerous and various: visiting a new family in town, comforting a grieving spouse, answering a question at a committee meeting, praying at a civic gathering, preaching on Sunday morning. By and large, words are all we have with which to persuade, challenge, comfort, teach or inspire other people. Yet, as a pastor, speaking in public is the occasion which makes me feel both most nervous and most confident.
Perhaps some examples would be helpful.
* In high school, before my pastoring days, my speech class traveled to Duke University for a competition. Without consultation, the teacher entered me in the Extemporaneous Speaking event. What a mistake! I was as nervous as a cat in a thunderstorm.
* In one of my early local church appointments I developed an anxiety about making the announcements on Sunday mornings. It was serious enough that I called the Lay Leader, who was also a good friend, for a cup of coffee. He offered to do the announcements, but I declined and eventually grew into the responsibility.
* Confidence in preaching was mostly a matter of experience. In the beginning I was nervous because I wasn't very good. Practice didn't make perfect, but it did make the preaching better and that increased my confidence. I also had a couple of insights. For one thing, as a preacher, I "grow on" people. One sermon might be disappointing, but, over a period of time, the sermons were effective and appreciated. That realization instilled confidence.
Secondly, an important awareness: If the congregation trusts you, knows that you care about them and will be there for them -- if you have integrity and compassion -- they are far more responsive to your preaching.
* Finally, I am an introvert in an environment which has extroverted expectations. As an introvert, anxiety in public speaking is a default response. In order to be effective as a pastor, however, I learned to function as an extrovert when necessary. By nature I am quiet in small group gatherings. Through experience, I learned to speak up and make my contribution. There were occasions, in fact, when I wish that I had shut up before I did. On balance, however, I accepted my introverted personality, but on occasion functioned in other ways, to the extent that I was able.
Strange, but true for most of my adult life: the situations which have made me most nervous and most confident have been occasions of public speaking.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
When enough is enough
The prompt: When enough is enough
A Writer's Book of Days, Judy Reeves
When a casserole that "serves 8" is wiped out by 2, enough is enough.
When I fall asleep at my laptop at 1:00 a.m., enough is enough.
When I have copied enough material from the internet to fill 150 file folders (conservatively),
enough is enough.
When my wife eats a bag of 3 Musketeers "one at a time" in a day, enough is enough.
When I have books stacked on books until the bookcase is bowing, when I have books stacked on the floor so that I can no longer walk through my office safely, when books fill the shelves in two bedroom closets, and then I check out 4 more from the library and order 3 from Amazon, enough is enough.
When I haven't showered or shaved in 3 days "because I am retired," enough is enough.
When I fall asleep driving, waking as I smash through a roadside mail box, then enough sleep was not enough.
When I start admitting these things publicly, enough is enough.
A Writer's Book of Days, Judy Reeves
When a casserole that "serves 8" is wiped out by 2, enough is enough.
When I fall asleep at my laptop at 1:00 a.m., enough is enough.
When I have copied enough material from the internet to fill 150 file folders (conservatively),
enough is enough.
When my wife eats a bag of 3 Musketeers "one at a time" in a day, enough is enough.
When I have books stacked on books until the bookcase is bowing, when I have books stacked on the floor so that I can no longer walk through my office safely, when books fill the shelves in two bedroom closets, and then I check out 4 more from the library and order 3 from Amazon, enough is enough.
When I haven't showered or shaved in 3 days "because I am retired," enough is enough.
When I fall asleep driving, waking as I smash through a roadside mail box, then enough sleep was not enough.
When I start admitting these things publicly, enough is enough.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
The thoughts that circle your bed at night
Prompt source: A Writer's Book of Days, Judy Reeves
Sometime during the past year, the predominant thought that began coming to me at night was about death. I am not morbidly preoccupied, and the subject doesn't visit me every night, but on occasion reality strikes home: I am going to die. It could be at any time, or on any given day I could receive news of imminent or approaching death.
The thought creates anxiety. I am not ashamed to say that it scares me. Christian though I claim to be, a believer in resurrection through Christ, the conqueror of death, yet in my gut the thought of "not being" as I am now is frightening. Yes, beyond death is a life more glorious, beautiful, and joyous than the one I cling to today. Yes, death is but for a moment while life is uninterrupted and unending. But the thought of leaving the familiar in its many beloved forms is most disturbing.
I admit that none of this became a nightly concern until I turned 65. I am now 66. It sounds old, though objectively it is certainly not aged. With my bad back, I consider myself an old 66. Does that sound less frantic? But I do not become frantic or truly panicked at night, just anxious, apprehensive. After some time - more than minutes , less than an hour - I fall asleep until the new day which God graciously gives me.
And you - what are the thoughts that circle your bed at night?
Sometime during the past year, the predominant thought that began coming to me at night was about death. I am not morbidly preoccupied, and the subject doesn't visit me every night, but on occasion reality strikes home: I am going to die. It could be at any time, or on any given day I could receive news of imminent or approaching death.
The thought creates anxiety. I am not ashamed to say that it scares me. Christian though I claim to be, a believer in resurrection through Christ, the conqueror of death, yet in my gut the thought of "not being" as I am now is frightening. Yes, beyond death is a life more glorious, beautiful, and joyous than the one I cling to today. Yes, death is but for a moment while life is uninterrupted and unending. But the thought of leaving the familiar in its many beloved forms is most disturbing.
I admit that none of this became a nightly concern until I turned 65. I am now 66. It sounds old, though objectively it is certainly not aged. With my bad back, I consider myself an old 66. Does that sound less frantic? But I do not become frantic or truly panicked at night, just anxious, apprehensive. After some time - more than minutes , less than an hour - I fall asleep until the new day which God graciously gives me.
And you - what are the thoughts that circle your bed at night?
Monday, October 7, 2013
I had filed for divorce twice.
The prompt: Tell us about a time when everything was going wrong - and then, suddenly, you knew it would be alright.
From: The Daily Post @ Wordpress.com
I had filed for divorce twice. The second time I moved into an apartment, signing a year's lease. For a year my attorney tried to get my wife's attorney to negotiate a settlement, with no success. My wife often spoke of her desire to stay married and live apart. To me that arrangement seemed the worst of all possible worlds.
My wife's psychosis manifested itself in a variety of ways, creating immense stress. Some nights she would call two dozen times. She did not trust me to be honest and fair when dealing with our finances. The situation was spiraling out of control.
One day she proposed reconciliation -- I move back in and we resume our marriage after living apart for over a year. I knew that nothing fundamental had changed: she had not resumed taking her psych meds, which left a range of issues unresolved.
Our daughter challenged me: "Are you willing to move back, knowing that nothing has changed or is likely to change?"
I answered with a shaky 'yes.' Only today, almost two months after returning, did I gain the conviction that "it would be alright." Even when it is not alright, it will be alright.
Perhaps I was given that conviction because of a pleasant trip to Jackson together this morning. We actually enjoyed ourselves. I have no illusions about "nothing but blue skies," but I believe there is commitment and resilience on both sides to sustain us.
From: The Daily Post @ Wordpress.com
I had filed for divorce twice. The second time I moved into an apartment, signing a year's lease. For a year my attorney tried to get my wife's attorney to negotiate a settlement, with no success. My wife often spoke of her desire to stay married and live apart. To me that arrangement seemed the worst of all possible worlds.
My wife's psychosis manifested itself in a variety of ways, creating immense stress. Some nights she would call two dozen times. She did not trust me to be honest and fair when dealing with our finances. The situation was spiraling out of control.
One day she proposed reconciliation -- I move back in and we resume our marriage after living apart for over a year. I knew that nothing fundamental had changed: she had not resumed taking her psych meds, which left a range of issues unresolved.
Our daughter challenged me: "Are you willing to move back, knowing that nothing has changed or is likely to change?"
I answered with a shaky 'yes.' Only today, almost two months after returning, did I gain the conviction that "it would be alright." Even when it is not alright, it will be alright.
Perhaps I was given that conviction because of a pleasant trip to Jackson together this morning. We actually enjoyed ourselves. I have no illusions about "nothing but blue skies," but I believe there is commitment and resilience on both sides to sustain us.
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