For Christians only....not!!!

Knowing God's Will

One of the most difficult things in the Christian life is to know and do God's will. We hear sermon after sermon where doing God's will is mentioned at least once somewhere. We all must make decision after decision each day and many of them on the spur of the moment. How do we know we are following God's will as we make these quick decisions? Other times we make decisions on things where we have plenty of time to think and pray on them. How do we know in these cases? What is the will of God? It would be nice if God had placed a flashing neon sign in our minds that gave us specific directions on every decision, but, that's not the way it is! The thing is, God's will is not the same for every Christian...if it were, we would all be carbon copies of each other, with the same intellect, the same likes and dislikes, and the same gifts....no, it must be something different for every one of us. How then can each individual Christian ascertain what God's will is for his life?

Romans 12: 1-2    1.  I beseech ye therefore brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. 2. And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and perfect, will of God.

A traveling salesman was headed to his next stop through a range of remote, rugged mountains when his car broke down. He was miles and miles from any help, but luckily, there was a monastery close by. He walked to the monastery explained that his car had broken down and he needed some help. The friendly monks took him in, gave him food and a bed, and promised to get help for his car. As he stayed the night, from deep  within the monastery, he could hear a hauntingly beautiful and very mysterious sound. He had never heard anything like it. It was pleasant to his ears and reached inside and grabbed his heart in such a way that he had to know what it was. He left his room and began to draw closer to the mysterious sound. Finally, he was standing in front of a huge wooden, padlocked door. The sound seemed to be emanating from behind it, so, the next morning, he asked the monks what was making that beautiful, mysterious sound. The monks said "We can't tell you, you're not a monk!". Smitten by not knowing what it was and desperate to know, the man replied, "Well then, how do I become a monk?". The monks answered," You must count all the blades of grass and all the grains of sand on the face of the earth and then you can become one of us!". The man left and 45 years later he returned to the monastery with two astronomical numbers that correctly met the requirements of the order. The monks accepted him and immediately he had to know what was making the mysterious sound. The monks provided him with a set of keys and said "Go..see for yourself!". The first key opened the gigantic wooden door...the sound was louder, but, now there was an iron door. A second key opened it. Next was a door of silver, then one adorned with jewels, and finally one of pure gold, each of which required a key. Finally, the man slowly opened the final door and looked inside...

You might ask, "What in the world has this story got to do with knowing the will of God and the scripture passage?". Maybe we can draw some parallels. To know the will of God, (vrs 1), we must present our bodies unto God. Just as the man in the story had to sacrifice 45 years of his life to become a monk, God expects us to sacrifice our bodies to Him. God can make this claim because we were bought with a price..1 Cor. 6:20, For ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's. Why does god expect this?...the body is the seat of our sinful desires and we tend to allow our bodies to affect our minds. Satisfying the flesh tends to cause an unrepentant mind. Paul calls this a "reasonable service" which simply means it follows logic. Christ sacrificed himself for us, we must give our all to him. This is the first step in knowing and doing God's will. If we are not willing to give ourselves to the Lord, we will spend a lifetime asking questions for which there are no answers from the world's standpoint. Jesus taught in Luke 9:23, And He said unto them all, if any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily, and follow me.

Secondly, we must separate from the world (vrs 2). This doesn't mean we should become hermits, nor does it mean that we should set some impossible standard to reach. Paul teaches, "Be not conformed to this world"...to be conformed is to shape one's mind and character after the pattern of another. We are not to shape our thinking or character after the world, meaning, not to be like he world in actions, words, and in example. Two reasons for this come to mind...1) because of what the world will do to us as a Christian. 1 John2: 15-16, Love not the world, neither the things in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world., and 2) because the world is enmity against the Lord...James 4:4, Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God? whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God.  How do we separate from the world when we must live in it each day of our lives? Paul says we do it by being transformed, that is, to transfigure our minds, and, the way to do this is to have a steady diet of God's word....study the scriptures, know the word! Without it we become more and more like the world, conformed in mind and body to worldly things. Don't you know that the man in the story had to separate himself from the world? Imagine what people thought as they saw him out counting blades of grass and grains of sand...they thought he was crazy just like they did as Noah took 40 years to build the ark on dry land. Well, what can the word do for us if we study it? It cleanses our minds from the filth of the world. Psalm 119: 9, Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? by taking heed thereto according to thy word. It prevents us from sinning. Psalm 119: 11, Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee. It guides us in the path of righteousness. Psalm 119: 105, Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. There are many more things the word can do for us. Study it, live by it, heed its warnings, obey its commandments, count on its promises, and hide it in your mind.

The third parallel we can see concerns the understanding of God's will. Even after dedicating his life to the task of counting blades of grass and grains of sand, and separating himself from the world to do this, the man still needed a set of keys to open the doors hiding the source of the mysterious sound. What then are some keys that we can use to help us understand God's will? One key is the biblical examples of the Godly men and women of the Bible. One must not confuse God's will with His purpose for us. Our purpose is to glorify Him and increase His kingdom. His will for each of us, though different for each person, collectively allows us to accomplish His purpose..a marvelous mystery! A second key is prayer. Prayer is a powerful tool in understanding God's will when done with a regard for others rather than self. We should pray regularly...it always helps. The third key is a willingness to accept things that come our way as the working of God in our lives. I don't think we should agonize over all the decisions we make daily. I believe that we make them based on our Christian lifestyles and beliefs, guided by the Holy Spirit within us. When our conscience is clear, not troubled by a decision, I am confident that God is guiding us, even when a decision leads to trouble of some kind. Jesus prayed in Luke 22: 42, Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. Accept the things that come your way as the working of God; have faith that all things are for good for those who believe.

So, there you have it. To understand the will of God, we must give our lives to Him, a living sacrifice, separate our minds from the world, being transformed, not conformed, and understand that the decisions, situations, and occurrences that present themselves in our lives are the working of God. Now, back to the story, the man sacrificed 45 years to the quest, he separated himself from the world by his actions, and he acquired the keys to the doors that protected the mysterious sound. Can you imagine his sense of fulfillment and excitement as he slowly opened that last door? What was making the mysterious sound?...Well...I can't tell you!...You're not a monk!! Neither can any man tell you what God's will is for you in your life...you have to search it out yourself, but, using the advice of Paul, praying regularly, and studying the Bible can help us know and follow God's will. God bless us every one. Amen

Honey, where did we put that.....?

There had been a glass coaster on which my wife had set a red candle on the kitchen table for months. As the Christmas season approached, my wife thought it would be pretty to use the whole set of glass coasters to help decorate her table. "Now where did I put those coasters? I remember I was gonna put them up somewhere, but, I can't remember where that is!" she said. Of course, no matter what I'm doing, immediately we begin rifling through drawers, looking in closets, cleaning out bookshelves, and generally wrecking the whole house trying to find the coasters. ('cause if Mama ain't happy..ain't nobody happy!)  All the while, questions and comments abound. "Looks like you could remember where ye put 'em...where'd ye have 'em last?" I might say. "Oh hush, you're just as bad as me!" she responds. "Can't ye just use somethin else?" I say moaningly. "I got to find them...can't stand not knowin where I put 'em!"she says with a tone of aggravation. I'm not sure if she's aggravated at me or at herself, so, I dutifully continue to search a few more minutes then I say "Well..I give up!" then mosey on back to my chair to rest my eyes a little. *wink* I get "the look" as she continues the dragnet search. After a couple of hours with breaks in between, finally I hear "Here they are! Now I remember putting them right here because....". I'm just shaking my head thinking "Good grief!". Ok..finally the mystery is solved. With the set of coasters in hand, she moves toward the table to retrieve the one holding the red candle. Lo and behold....it's gone! "Did you see where I put the one that was on the table?" she asked. I'm thinking "Oh no..here we go again!". We begin to look through the house again for the one coaster that we had to start with. We search and search, wrecking the house a second time.  This time I even search through the garbage can in the kitchen..it's not there. "It's got to be right here somewhere. Think! Where'd you set it down?" I said. "It was on the table, now it's gone, that's all I know. It just wasn't meant for me to have a pretty table this year." she moans. "Aww, we'll find it..it'll turn up somewhere 'round here.", is by now about all the sympathy and comfort that I could muster. We search and search until finally she says in disgust, "Just stop lookin for it, it's just gone!" A day or two later she is sweeping under the table and pulls a chair all the way out from under it and there on the front edge of the seat is the coaster with the red candle. We had both pulled the chair out a little and looked in it as we searched, but, neither of us had pulled it all the way out. The table cloth had hidden it from us as it sat on the front edge of the seat. Scolding her  I said " Who in the world would put the thing right on the edge of the chair like that? Most folk would put it in the back of the seat where it wouldn't be likely to fall out!" Uh oh!...you could see sparks in her eyes as she lit into me with a list of my escapades along the same lines as the search for the coasters. Of course she was right, I misplace things too and just can't rest until I find them. I've been known to tear the place apart looking for my pocket knife!...just can't do without one. Shoot! I find a lot of my stuff while we are looking for her stuff! "Hey look!...found that screw driver I been lookin for!"

It's funny how we take comfort in knowing where our things are located. I guess for my generation it's because we never had much more than bare necessities while growing up, and, we were taught to take care of things. We are not pack rats, we do throw things away, but only after they have been worn out! We think seriously about things before trashing them.The result is, there's a lot of stuff that we know we have, we're just not quite sure exactly where it is!

Hey! Where did I put my glasses?

"Don't 'no nothin 'bout birthin no baby!"

Those of us who are my age often long for the "good ole days" when life seemed much simpler. I find myself thinking back to the time my kids were little and wishing I had spent more time with them. My profession as a teacher/coach actually caused me to spend more time with other people's children than I did my own!  Even so, I loved them dearly and did my best to provide for them.

This past week, one of my daughters brought into the world another sweet grandchild. I must admit that modern times have the "good ole days" beat by far in the area of birthing babies.. When mine were born , the father was treated as if he had the plague! I was not allowed in the delivery room at all. I was made to wait in an area outside the nursery with other expectant fathers. Even though we were total strangers, nervous conversation flowed constantly. "Is this ye first 'un? This'll be my third!", or, "Ye think I'd figure out what causes this by now!", and "One more and I'll have me a whole basketball team! " are a few questions or comments that were made.

One by one the new fathers were informed of their baby and the condition of his wife until finally a nurse appeared holding that "little bundle of joy". You could look at it for a moment, but were not allowed to take it in your arms. You would think that once your baby was born, the waiting was over...not in those days! The fathers still had to wait until the mother was "situated" in her room. Finally, a nurse would come and lead you to the hospital room where your wife was kept. All the while you're thinking,"I'm finally going to get to hold my baby.". Not yet! You go in and there's your wife, but, no baby. After a while a nurse comes in with some sort of gown and cap and says " here! Put this on and you can hold your baby." Finally, they bring the baby in and you hold it close for the first time. Man! What a feeling that is!

Now days, the father is allowed to observe the entire process! I feel a bit cheated. My sons in law have all experienced things that I missed. A nurse no longer brings the baby out for the family to see, the father gets to do that and oh what a look on his face!

Some say that God no longer provides us with miracles. I disagree. Every birth of a new baby is a marvelous miracle. It is not by chance, but by heavenly design that a human baby is wondrously and fearfully created. Praise be to God!

'Nuff said....time for Papaw to hold his new grand baby!!

Please don't push the red button!

When my two oldest girls were small children in the late 70"s, we bought them a Fisher-Price toy called "Please don't push the red button!". The toy was a colorful plastic box of sorts enclosing a cassette player and speaker. Sesame Street was the theme of the toy and this one featured the muppet Grover. A children's book and cassette tape came with the toy. The plastic was molded in the front to hold the little story book and in front of the holder was a line of multicolored buttons, one of which was most definitely red!

They were so excited as they opened the package and loaded the cassette. With the book in its place and two little heads close together as they stared at the first page, the cassette began to play. "Hello, this is lovable, furry old Grover speaking....." and his voice began to give instructions as to what to do to follow along in the book as he told his story. Always after he talked a little, he would say, "Please don't push the red button! You can push the green button or the yellow, just Please, Please don't push the red button." This would go on after each instruction or part of the story. Well...after a couple of times hearing ol Grover say "Don't push...", well, guess what?...of course, they had to know what would happen if they pushed it, so, they did! Grover would moan and groan about it at first, then sound very exasperated as pushing the red button continued. My girls loved the toy and what was left of it was passed down to my third daughter and son after they were born. We certainly got our money's worth out of that toy.

During one of our runs toward a state championship in baseball, we had to play a team on the Gulf Coast. The game time was set for 7:30 on a Friday night, so, with the drive being roughly four hours, we decided to stay the night in one of the local hotels there. We went down Friday afternoon, planning to get situated in the hotel, grab a light meal somewhere, then go play the game at 7:30. All the way down, the guys would ask, "Does this place have a pool?". Our answer was always the same, "I suppose, but, we're not gettin in it!".
I told Coach M. as we drove by the hotel's pool, "'em boys'il be in 'at pool 'fore we leave!" He said "Naa..they'll stay out of it if we tell 'em to.". We played and won the game and got back to the hotel around 10 that night. We declared bed check at 11 and sure enough they were all where they were supposed to be. We went to bed and along about 1 AM the phone rang...."Coach...you need to come get your boys out of the pool!". Yep...country boys are going to get in a pool of water..it's a given!

As we move through life, we are often tempted to "push that red button". I think I'll go pull one of those tags off a mattress that says "Do not remove this tag"...*grin*. Y'all behave now!! 

Warning....sermonette!

Occasionally I have the privilege to speak to a group or fill the pulpit at church. I am strictly a layman who simply knows what and in whom he believes. I hope you enjoy this presentation on how I think Christians should approach the fear in their lives.

The two stones

There once was a princess of renowned beauty and gentleness who fell in love with a poor farmer and they planned to marry. Her father the king was dead set against it and set out to rid himself of the problem by killing the young farmer, so, he trumped up some charge and had him thrown into the dungeon. It was the custom of the kingdom to have a trial and then guilt or innocence would be determined by drawing a stone from a bag. The king would place two stones in a bag, one black and one white, and the accused would have to draw one in front of the king’s court. If he drew the white stone, he would be declared innocent, released, and free to marry the princess, but if black, he would be beheaded. Sounds like a 50-50 chance right? Normally it would be, but, the evil king didn’t want him to have a chance at all, so he ordered that two black stones be placed into the bag for this particular trial. While the king plotted the demise of the young farmer, the princess overheard and immediately went to the dungeon and informed her sweetheart that all was lost. The young man took the news somberly, but after a little thought, he told the sobbing princess “Do not fear, our love will prevail!“. The farmer was in a dire situation. He should have been sorely afraid. He could not escape, he could not accuse the king of foul play for that would mean his immediate execution, yet, he showed no fear, only his undying love for the princess.
 

The next day the trial took place before a huge crowd of lords and ladies as well as common folk and after the accusations and denials of the trial took place, it was time for the poor farmer‘s last word before he drew for his life from the bag containing the two black stones.What in the world would he do?

1 John 4:18  There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.

It is normal for a human being to fear. God provided us with the emotion for our protection against bodily harm and in this capacity it is helpful to us. There is also that innate, reverent fear of God as the all powerful One who created us and can at His pleasure take us out. This fear is also helpful to us.

On the other hand, if we let fear hinder our service to God, then it is harmful-- even sinful to us. Wait..could fear be a sin? One of the most repeated commands (if not the most repeated) in the Bible is “Fear not.”. Why is fear so dangerous? It brings upon itself what it fears! You see, fear is the perception of a threat. Remember FDR’s famous line “We have nothing to fear but fear itself”? When we let our fears rule our minds, then it becomes a force rather than a simple emotion. That force is ruled by the devil. Faith is the force of God’s kingdom. We are saved by faith, healed by faith, sustained and strengthened by faith. Faith attracts God’s blessings while fear attracts the curses of Satan. Remember when Peter walked on the water. He did fine until his fear began to overcome his faith. The last statement in Romans 14:23 says “for whatsoever is not of faith is sin”. In Rev. 21: 7-8, we see that the “fearful” are among those who will have their part in the lake of fire. The devil can take our fear and make our lives miserable. He can use our fear to make us ineffective. Fear of witnessing, fear of teaching a class, fear of offending someone, fear of what people may think of me, and on and on are tools of the devil! Fear is a serious thing and we must resist it, just as we do other sins. What is our remedy? “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear”. What father would not run into a burning building to save his child? His love for his child is greater than his fear of the fire, therefore, his love drives off his fear. 1 Tim. 1:7  reads “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” Love and fear cannot exist together. Love is associated with safety and well being while fear is associated with dread and doom--the “torment” spoken of in our verse. They are fundamentally opposites!

Where do we get this “perfect love”? Psalm 34:4 says, “I sought the Lord and He heard me; He delivered me from all my fears.” Look at John’s argument in the earlier verses of chapter 4. Verse 8, “ God is love”, verse 10, “Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us..”, verse 11”….we ought to love one another.”, verse 16 and the first part of 17, “God is love and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God and God in him. Herein is our love made perfect…”, so, we get our perfect love from God, and it is an endless supply.

Our verse says perfect love casteth out fear, therefore there must be some power associated with it. 2 Tim 1:7 For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love… God gives us power to resist the devil and we do it with love provided by God through the presence of the Holy Spirit who lives within us. God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. Selah (Ps 46:1-3) God empowers us through His love. Paul states " I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phil 4:13, so can we.

Fear is a destructive force in our lives, we must guard against it. It can make us miserable. It can make us indecisive, it can make us ineffective, it can take away our confidence, and it can paralyze our minds. The power we receive in union with Christ is sufficient to do his will and to face the challenges that arise from our commitment to doing it. As we contend for the faith we will face troubles, pressures, and trials. As they come, ask Christ to strengthen you. As Jesus once said: “In the world there are tribulations, but be of good cheer for I have overcome the world.”. As I studied for this presentation, I ran across this statement made by a preacher in one of his sermons. The only people who have no fear are the ones in the graveyard! We must daily work to attain that “perfect love” so that we can echo the words of Paul in Hebrews 13:6 : "The LORD is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?”.  I think the poor farmer in the story had an attitude such as this as he faced his predicament. What did he do? Well…

The farmer stood up and addressed the king in front of the huge audience saying “My king, I am guilty only of loving your daughter the princess, and I know that you think me the lowliest of the low and not good enough to marry your daughter, therefore, I am not worthy even to draw a stone. Sire, I place my life in your hands, you draw a stone and show it to the court, I will live or die by the stone remaining in the bag." Such an humble an honorable request as this could not be denied by the king in front of his kingdom, so of course the king drew a black stone, which meant to everyone present that the remaining stone had to be white! The farmer took the princess by the hand, winked at the king, and they lived happily ever after.

  “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.”

God bless us all with His perfect love that we may not fear. *smile*

Of "coachwhips" and "spreadin adders"...

I guess you must be a child of the 50's (or of some decade prior to that) in order to even recognize the names of the creatures mentioned in the title above. Growing up in my part of the deep south, we ran across these "critters" on a regular basis. Where did they go? I suppose as people began to move away from farming crops, fields and pastures became covered with pine trees which changed the habitat to the extent that coach whips and adders could not survive here any longer. The same scenario happened with the bob white quail which were plentiful here while crop farming was the rule.

Coach whips and spreading adders are two different species of snakes. The coach whip is a thin non-poisonous snake which can grow as long as six feet. Its scale pattern makes it appear braided and its color was usually dark like a whip. This snake was peculiar in that it was an inquisitive snake. Usually seen around fields where the crop or vegetation had grown up about waist high or better, the snake would often stick its head up a foot or so above the foliage and look right at you as you walked by. Coach whips are one of the faster moving snakes to have such length. The old folks say a coach whip would get away by grabbing the end of its tail with its mouth and forming its body into a circle and roll away like a wheel! Think that might be stretching it a little? *smile*

The spreading adder (eastern hog snake) is short and stubby with a characteristic pointed snout on its head which it used to root around in the ground in search of grubs, worms, or insects. Its underbelly was a vivid yellow (around here anyway). We often encountered adders in the yard or around freshly plowed ground. When distressed, they could puff out their heads resembling a cobra (some called them puff adders) and even play dead! The old folk always warned us that the “spreadin adder” bite would make you extremely sick. No death has ever been recorded that was a result of an adder bite, but, who would want to risk it?

Terry was a teammate of mine in college, a Yankee boy from somewhere in New York state. He had heard me talking about working bird dogs and hunting quail and wanted to come home with me one weekend to see for himself what it was like. I brought him home one Friday evening during quail season. My family was still in the chicken business and after showing him around a while, we came in to supper. Mama had her usual course of vegetables and somebody in the family had killed a mess of squirrels, so, she had fried them and added biscuit and gravy as well. Yankees were not big on vegetables, so ole Terry lit in on the squirrel, biscuit and gravy. Afterward, he said, “Best fried chicken I ever ate!”. There was a surprised look on his face when we explained that it was squirrel, not chicken!

The next morning, we set out to hunt quail. My old bird dog was working hard, but by this time, quail had begun to be pretty scarce and would not set good. We had walked about an hour when finally the old dog pointed a covey. The birds were just on the edge of a patch of woods that opened up into a large field covered with broom sage. It happened that when we got the covey up, the singles flew out and scattered into the sage. We started out into the field and had just about reached the area where the birds had settled, when I heard a loud “'Whoa!”. I looked to my left and saw Terry had dropped his gun and was running back toward me. I said, “What's wrong with you boy?”. He said while pointing toward where he had been, “Look!”. There, with its head raised up above the top of the sage by about a foot, was a coach whip! Terry had been almost eyeball to eyeball with it! I said, “Aww, it's just an ol coach whip, it won't hurt ye.”I said, “Look.”, and started walking toward the snake. It let me get within about ten feet of it then, zip!..down it went disappearing from sight. I said, “Just wait a minute.”. Sure enough after a few seconds, the old snake's head rose out of the sage again a few yards further away. He said “That thing is not scared of us at all is he?”. I assured him that he probably was scared or was at least instinctively wary. He said, “Can you catch one?”. I said,”Well, you could try, but, they are maybe the fastest snakes alive!” That pretty much put a damper on the bird hunting for the rest of the day. We went on and killed a few birds, but, he spent most of his time looking out for coach whips! He had quite a story to tell his grand children!

I wonder, as time goes along, what else might disappear from our part of the world. The coach whips, adders and quail are gone, replaced by deer, striped skunks, and wild turkey. Wild hogs are moving this way and we already have armadillos and coyotes. New tales and experiences await, so, turn off the TV's, ipads, iphones, and game boys and get outside!! I bet a grand kid would much rather hear a story about a coach whip than one about saving a princess on a video game! The choice is yours!

"Doo-da-doots" and "Pa-dings"

My house is beginning to sound more and more like an arcade! I have seen many innovations over the course of my lifetime. I can remember the first television my dad bought back in the 1950's. It was a second hand RCA, made of what looked like a thousand tubes stuck in a metal frame. The cover had been removed during the repair and never put back, so, it sat there on the table, tubes exposed and glowing as the electricity coursed through it. What a marvelous invention it was!

Radios were large and bulky. At first they were limited to their location in the house by the length of their cord. Then one day I got a transistor radio! It was nice! Not much bigger than a matchbox, it had a telescopic antenna and it would just fit in your shirt pocket..wow..I thought I was “up town”!

Along and around 1962, we got a telephone. Daddy had been trying to get one put in for a couple years, but, had been told that the party line was full. Finally “Ma Bell” expanded its service from 4-party lines to 8-party lines and we got the phone. Of course, we were not allowed to call anyone (except for emergencies), but we could answer if no adult was there. Everyone on our party line had an assigned ring so that we would know when to answer. Ours was two short rings. The phone was wonderful but had its drawbacks. The older ladies on the party line had to talk everyday at a certain time. There was no need to try to use the phone during that time of the day. Also, on a party line, your ring would sound in every household on the line, so, reckon there was some eavesdropping?

In college I became acquainted with computers. Mind you, they were nothing like what we have today. One computer took up a whole room and to make it do anything, you had to write programs on keypunch cards and feed them into the machine. One period or comma out of place and the whole thing was ruined. About this time, calculators began to appear. I often thought how much easier my studies would have been had I owned a calculator!

Now we all own iphones, ipads, laptops, and desktop pc's that work with the click of the keypad. Ringtones and notification sounds ring out all through the day and night. My wife will say “You got a doo-da-doot!” or I'll say to her, “You got a pa-ding!” and we both drop what we are doing and check our machines. I can tell who is calling by what ringtone sounds on my phone.Yep..."arcade-ish" for sure! In case there is a reader who does not yet know their meanings, "doo-da-doot" is a Facebook notification and "pa-ding" is an instant messenger notification.

I know technology is good, but it never stops! New things appear every day and many people become obsessed with purchasing new stuff. Until it gets so outdated that it will no longer work, I think I probably have all I need...Uh oh...gotta go! I think I got a “pa-ding”!! *grin*

Assault with a deadly chili pepper!

Time on task is an important aspect of teaching. Studies have shown that a very large part of the school day is wasted because students do not stay on task. "Keep 'em busy and you'll keep 'em out of trouble." was a piece of sage advice given to me as I was preparing to teach. Good advice, yes, but practical?..not hardly. I came to realize that most of those college expert teachers had never actually taught public school students on any level. Keeping students busy and on task turned out to be one of the most difficult things a teacher could accomplish.

It had been a normal day. First and second periods had come and gone with no major confrontations. I usually started my math classes by discussing any questions regarding homework, then presented the lesson and examples for the day. After addressing any questions on the day's lesson, I would have the class start their assignment for the next day, using the time left in the class period. This was the time that a teacher had to do his "head knockin".."Keep 'em on task.." stuff you see. Some would actually work on their math homework, others would work on what they were supposed to have done last night for the next class, some would fake it. In any case, I expected a quiet, studious few minutes at the end of the class period which allowed me to check a few papers or look over the materials for next class period.

Third period was a general math class and was designed to supply a math credit toward graduation for kids who just could not make it through the college prep math courses. They were not the sharpest tools in the box, but could function well enough, and, of course, they were full of life! Two of my good ole boys, Bud and Flip, were side by side in the back seats of two adjacent rows. I was busy with something at my desk and the class seemed to be "on task" with the homework for the next day.
Suddenly a giggle!, then another..without looking up I said "Y'all be quiet back there". A minute or two passes and then a loud cackle of laughter breaks out. I stand and look back to see Flip holding his head in his hands, ears and face red as beets and Bud is reaching across the aisle patting him on the back. I say, "What's wrong with you Flip?"...he looks up with tears rolling down his cheeks and says "Arrrhg..cough...sputter ..wheeze!"'. The other kids were rolling with laughter, so, I look at Bud and said, "What did you do?". He said "Coach, I reckon it's assault with a deadly chili pepper!" I said "What?". He said, "I had one of them red hot peppers in my pocket and Flip saw it and bet me a dollar he could eat it without any water!" Poor ole Flip was burning up! I made him wait for water till the bell rang to end the period! (It was only a minute or two) I also made sure ole Flip got his dollar!  Bud took his punishment like a man, and, later that day, I had the security officer at the school talk to Bud about his "assault with a deadly chili pepper". As for Flip, he wound up in the nurse's office for a couple hours till the effects of the pepper wore off. I heard a lot of "ChiliFlip" from that day forward. Some lessons cannot be learned from a textbook!

Got ye corn planted?

"Got ye corn planted yet boy?", people ask me this time of year. My neighbors know that I plant a big vegetable garden every year. You wouldn't think it practical to plant anything just yet. We still have freezing cold days and nights to deal with before spring finally wins and temperatures stay up. The fact is, I planted a patch of old Pioneer corn back in February! Sweet corn, beans, peas, squash, okra, watermelons, and tomatoes will come later as the temperatures begin to rise. That old corn is tough, it can stand the cold. I've seen it come up and withstand temperatures that cause it to turn yellow, even white for a while. It always seems to survive and come back out.

I really miss my father this time of year. He loved to garden and produce enough to give to his neighbors. He was given the name Ezra at birth, and he didn't particularly like it. I think his main reason was that no one pronounced it correctly. Southerners are notorious for changing words. We seldom say the "ahh" sound at the end of a word. For example, "opera" is pronounced "opry"(op-ree). People in the south do not say "oak-rah" for okra, they say "oak-ree"! Yep..you got it...Ezra was always "Ez-ree". His brothers and sisters pronounced it no better.  Growing up to a height of around 6'4", his friends dubbed him "Slim" and he preferred that.

Daddy could do most anything. Electrician, carpenter, tinkerer, farmer, hunter, fisherman, and gardener were things he was known for as he lived. Like that old corn, he was tough. Daddy served in World War II in the Navy. When I was around eight years old, he got sick and almost died. Local doctors tried everything to help him..even pulled all his teeth! When that didn't work, he was sent to a specialist who discovered a parasite in his kidneys which was quickly remedied by a bottle of pills. He always hated that he let them pull his teeth! Just a few years after he retired from the chicken business, he suffered a heart attack. He survived after undergoing bypass surgery. A few years later, circulation got bad in his legs which led to another major operation. He survived again. All this time he would work his gardens (with a little help from me and mama). When he reached the age of 81, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and survived 40 radiation treatments. Finally a year or two later, he was trying to adjust the clutch on his old tractor when it became engaged. The back wheel of the tractor ran over him, breaking one of his hips...he survived that as well. Hey..he was tough!.

I find myself much like him in that I really enjoy tinkering with the old tractors each year, plowing and planting a big garden, and then gathering the produce for myself and my neighbors. Daddy taught me many things, but I am especially thankful that he taught me how to garden. I can see him in my mind sitting on the old farmall moving down a row of corn. This was his time of year.

I was blessed to have him for 55 years of my life and, I spent most of them trying to make him proud. I remember scoring 28 points in a basketball game once. He told me I should have scored 40! I think he was proud of me..*shrug*??....I was valedictorian of my class. I think he was proud....*shrug*??...I played basketball and baseball on scholarship which paid for most of my college education...I think he was proud...*shrug*??. I found it difficult to get a compliment from him. He would keep you guessing, but, I believe he was proud of all his sons and the men they became. He did all he could to help us and I know he loved us.

In a few weeks, gardening will start in earnest. I will try again to raise enough stuff to fill up my freezer and give to my neighbors. When they ask me, "Got ye corn planted yet boy?", I'll say "Yep!" and they will say "You bad as ol Slim ain't ye!". I'll just grin and hope to be as "well thought of" as he was and, I hope he's proud!

Shenanigans!

Shenanigans is defined by dictionary.com as:  deceptive, prankish, or deceitful. Old country folk like me pronounce the word with a twinkle in our eye and understand it to mean "Tomfoolery"! The action could be a prank or some other type of deception that is done in such a way that no one is hurt or humiliated in any way. Some shenanigans become almost traditional in that the deception is so good it can be used over and over.

Around 1968 Mr. John came to work at my school as the Vocational Agriculture teacher. I knew him then as a student and later as a colleague. Mr. John was a fine teacher,  and he loved kids. He was a strict disciplinarian due to the danger to the student that a shop full of machines posed.  He would light your britches up if you broke his rules, were disrespectful, or did something to put others in danger. Even so, his students loved him. He would do anything he could for a kid, and they knew he loved every one of them. He loved to charge them a dime or quarter for an old piece of scrap wood, or talk to them about eating possum or coon..I can still hear that distinctive laugh and see the twinkle in his eyes.

Anyway, I knew Mr. John well, and I knew he loved shenanigans. Each year we began to expect it. As he began to work with his students, he could soon tell which ones were gullible and able to take a little prank without getting their feathers ruffled too much. He would always send a kid to me first, probably because he knew I would fall in with the gag. The kid would knock on the door, stick his head in and ask " Coach...umm...Mr. John wants to know if you still have the lumber stretcher or not?". The kid would have no clue that there was no such thing. Sometimes the question would be "Coach, do you know who has that left handed screwdriver?". Sounds mean huh? You must understand, most of the faculty and staff were lifelong members of the school district, kids were neighbors and kin, and the atmosphere was a lot more laid back than it is today. Even the lady teachers would play along.  Kids were good as gold most of the time, and they knew how to take punishment when it was needed. They also knew Mr. John would pick at them playfully as would some of the others. In other words, it was part of the "normal" scheme of things at our little school.

Knowing Mr. John was up to some shenanigans, I would say " Well, I had it but Coach M came and borrowed it the other day, so you go see him." Coach M would in turn send him to someone else and so on until the kid figured it out himself, or one of the precious lady teachers gently informed him of the folly, or he reported back to Mr. John that it couldn't be found. A little embarrassment along with some good natured ribbing was about all that ever came of it. The kids understood that he picked at them because he loved them and would never, ever do them any harm. Mr. John has gone to his heavenly home now. I tip my hat to him, he was a master at...shenanigans!

Why is Little Bear always "nekkid"?

We were getting ready for a visit by our grandchild Ella this morning and we turned the television on to one of the "kiddie" channels. Little Bear was on at the time and my wife asked "Why is Little Bear always nekkid?" Of course the word "nekkid" is southern flavored for the word "naked". They mean the same thing in truth, but, sometimes the use of "nekkid" can lead one to think sinfully! I never had thought of this observance before, but as I watched the show, I realized that she was correct in her observance..Little Bear was the only one nekkid on the show! Mama Bear, PapaBear, and the humans all were dressed to the max, but Little Bear was "nekkid as a baby jay bird!"!

I don't suppose a young child would be aware of the first amendment right of free speech, nor, would the fact that Little Bear is "nekkid" register in their young minds. The children's shows are good clean entertainment for them and kids learn a great deal from them. The trouble is that these are not the only shows that they are exposed to as day by day they become mesmerized by the magic box we call "TV".

As "country" as we are down here in the deep south, most of us have satellite TV with upwards of a thousand channels available. TV in my day was full of shows that were wholesome, entertaining, and witty. There was some mild violence in the cowboy and cop shows, but never any "cuss" words or steamy sex scenes. Censorship ruled and it was fine, we watched it anyway! Today, many shows contain graphic violence, lewdness, vulgarity and profanity...all because of "the right to free speech". Would it change the stories a whole lot if the writers left out the curse words or the other things? Personally, I don't want my children or grandchildren exposed to any of it. We have not completely lost our imaginations and when we see a romantic kiss, or a man falling from a gun shot, we can wrap our minds around obvious results without having to see it graphically. I guess it started in the movies with that famous line from Gone with the Wind.."Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!". Possibly, that one line started the whole mess!

I think that the magic box called TV has changed over the years from a good thing to something pretty bad. It has become somewhat of a baby sitter in a lot of households and as a result, kids are seeing and learning things that are harmful to them. The apostle Paul said "Think on more excellent things". Our kids see these programs on TV and somehow equate them to a real way of life, so be vigilant as to what you let your kids watch. Let's bring back a little common sense censorship! Put some clothes on Little Bear! There's no need for him to be "runnin around nekkid all the time"! *grin* We'll watch him anyway!

Daddy I want a Tuesday!

I am badly outnumbered in my family. For a couple of years before my son was born it was estrogen 4, testosterone 1! My wife had given me three daughters in a row and when the nurse brought our fourth child out of delivery and said "It's a boy!", I said "You lyin!"
Anyway, one fine Tuesday I took my wife and (at the time) two daughters to town for some reason. The girls were both old enough to understand the consequences of misbehavior and they were duly warned as we loaded up the car. The trip went well and they were both angels, so I turned to the back seat and said "Girls, y'all were so good, I think we ought to get us a ice cream sundae!" My daughters looked at each other for a moment before the youngest spoke up and said "Daddy we don't want an ice cream sundae, we want an ice cream Tuesday!" They always amaze me!

Trying to paddle a cat!

During my long career as an educator, I sometimes had occasion to administer corporal punishment. Before we all started to school, we were made aware of the "electric paddling machine" in the principal's office, so, that first spanking that we all took at school was going to be horrendous in our minds. Most all teachers of my era and before knew how to use a paddle, but, we never did it out of meanness or without due warning to the unlucky student. Many times the punishment occurred after the fact, i.e., after thorough investigation and it was seldom administered to the innocent I assure you! I dare say though, not many of my colleagues ever paddled a cat. That's right, I tried to paddle a cat one day. Because of my proximity to the school, most every morning I would be the first one in the building. Shortly afterward, Mr. G. our janitor would arrive and I often helped him light the heaters for those teachers who wished it to warm up their rooms a little before they arrived. It was a frosty morning that day and as I entered the building by the principal's office and headed down the hall to my room, I saw an animal of some sort dashing down the hall by the science room and hang a right into the teacher's lounge. I just laid what I was carrying on a book shelf in the hall and walked on down to investigate. The teacher's lounge was just a small room with a couch and maybe a couple of chairs, a small table with a memograph machine on it, and a coke machine. Well, I walked in the room and pulled the door to and stood still for a moment. Suddenly something darted from behind a chair and ran behind the couch. Still not sure what it was, I eased over and peered behind the couch from over the top and there sitting crouched up was the prettiest tabby cat I'd ever seen. Well, I commenced to talk to it in a very loving, gentle voice like a person does when about to pet a cat, and reached my left hand over the back of the couch and between the wall to give it a rub and calm it down. That thing bit slam through my left thumb! I jerked my arm out, cat and all, and shook the rascal loose. Of course, being a cat, it landed on its feet and ran back behind the couch. Well, my feelings were hurt and my thumb was severely injured, so, I went back to my room and got my paddle, aiming to settle the score with the evil thing. I went back to the teacher's lounge and shut the door behind me, eased over to the couch and stuck my paddle down behind it and tried to knock the cat out...missed! The cat was by now running all over the lounge and me right in after him, trying to hit him with the paddle. By now, Mr. G. had entered the building, heard the racket and had come down to investigate. Just as he opened the door, the cat saw his chance and made a dash. That thing sailed right at Mr. G. and ran right between his legs. Mr. G. let out a whoop and jumped about as high as a man his age could jump. The cat ran out the doors at the end of the building, never to be seen again. Mr. G. said, "I've seen y'all paddle a lot of kids, but, that's the first time I ever seen a teacher try to paddle a cat!" I never touched the cat with my paddle, it ain't easy paddling a cat!!

"Take till ye git a strike, then swang away!"

My baseball teams usually had pretty good success from year to year. Having played baseball from little league through college and being a student of the game as well as a participant, I felt that I was qualified to be a pretty fair baseball coach, at least from the standpoint of knowledge of the game. Even so, there is much more to coaching than just knowledge of the game! Every coach must develop his or her "philosophy" or approach as to how the team should perform, and in turn, what aspect of the game for which  most of the practice time is used. A good coach will study and know each player's strengths and weaknesses, his personality, mood, attitude, and work habits. A good coach can communicate his knowledge to his players in a manner that causes them to respect what he knows, what he thinks, and what his expectations are for his team and players. He will teach his players lessons on the game and at the same time lessons that can be applied to life.

My philosophy was centered on hitting. We spent most of our practices in batting practice of some sort. Defense and pitching are essential and must be worked on, but, I believed that a line up of good hitters could intimidate and demoralize the opponent, especially, if the pitcher we were facing had a sparkling record. Many coaches went by the book with good success. Their teams played good defense, had good pitching, and won games by scoring very few runs. We seldom got shut out and usually averaged 7 or 8 runs per game. Sometimes the situation might call for a bunt and my players would be ready to perform, but, usually the instructions would be "Swang away and see how hard ye can hit it!".

Occasionally, we would come down to the last inning or two and find ourselves behind by a run or two or three. When this was the case, the instruction would be "Take till ye git a strike, then swang away!".  You'd be surprised how many games we won over the years simply by taking a strike before swinging away. I find this to be pretty true in life as well. Things tend to pile up on us. Our jobs worry us, our relationships cause us pain sometimes, our government seems to try to run our lives, and on and on. Human nature causes us to want to fire back. We often let our emotions rule and wind up hurt or hurting someone by our words or reactions. Take a strike...let things ride a while before swinging away. Sometimes the situation will resolve itself simply because of your reserve. If not, at least you've had time to think and pray, allowing you to get ready to swing away in a manner that is appropriately guided by reason rather than emotion. Good advice from the old coach: "Take till ye get a strike, then swang away!"