Poor Amanda

Amanda had her first wrestling match with Jake late last night. She
went to let little Sophie out. Jake, terrified at the storm, came
charging in.

With a fearless heart, Amanda grabbed hold of his collar as he tried
to run by. He was wet, cold, and determined, but worst of all, he was
big, almost as big as petite Amanda. The two of them wrangled to a
draw.

John heard her screaming his name and went running to the rescue. He
gave her pointers on how to be more aggressive in dealing with Jake.

Speaking of wrestling, I'm in hand to hand combat with the past. My
quasquicentenniel research is almost done. The next round involves
verifying facts, a tedious task for sure. Digging up bones.

Backache

My back hurts. I wish I could say I was doing something spectacular
when it happened. Truth is, I was getting up out of a chair and felt
something slip. Didn't hurt too bad at the time, but it's barking at
me loud and clear.

I am taking ibuprofen. Surely the person who invented that wonder
drug is lounging on a beach in Destin sipping lemonade. He or she
deserves unlimited access to Fort Knox.

At the time of my disablement I was quasquitizing. When I get serious
about the church history research, I become totally absorbed in it,
obsessed if you will. Good sitting posture gets forgotten. Not good.

My good friend, Dr. Bruce Chesser, Pastor at Geyer Springs in Little
Rock, has resigned to become Pastor at FBC Hendersonville TN, one of
the largest churches in our Southern Baptist Convention. I am prouder
than a peacock. I wish him Godspeed.

Trampoline

I have lost four pounds in the last few days. My new friend is the
trampoline. I have spent two hours over the last two days on it.

My grandson Sam has few things he truly enjoys. One of them is
jumping on the trampoline. Lately he has been wanting someone to jump
with him.

I am torn. I hate trampolines, but love my grandson. It didn't take
long to make that decision. I am glad no one sees me out there.

The only maneuver I have mastered is plopping backward on my fanny and
then jumping back up. To be totally honest, I end up on my backside
more often than I bounce to my feet. Don't laugh. Those goofy moves
are burning calories.

Tomatoes

I am addicted to them, especially to fresh ones just picked. Every
produce stand I pass, it takes every ounce of resistance I can muster
to keep going.

And when I do stop, I have to fight the urge to suddenly bite into the
tomato and eat it like an apple. When God thought of a tomato, He had
a wonderful thought. In fact, I think I saw a tomato in the frig last
night. I feel dessert for breakfast coming.

Ian (age 4) witnessed yesterday to Lilly Ruth (age 2). "Jesus died on
Friday for you, Lilly. He came back to life on Sunday.". He then
burst into song, "Our God is an awesome God..."

Newlyweds Home

John and Amanda are home from their honeymoon. They seem to be
giddily happy. We are thrilled. A major test looms before them.
Will Amanda's indoor dog mesh well with John's two outside dogs? I
will keep you posted.

Where were you forty years ago tonight? After church that Sunday
night, our youth group came to the house to watch the first walk on
the moon. The whole world was mesmerized. It seemed time stood still
and the world was at peace for one brief breath-taking moment.

I am researching my predecessors. Pastors of Second numbers two,
three, and four will be the focus of my history work this week.

Quasquilizationalism

Spent the whole workday yesterday working on the book I am writing for
our church's 125th anniversary, its quasquicentennial. I'm beginning
to obsess over it.

People asked what I was doing. I said I was quasquilizing. What's
wrong with me? My mind is leaving me.

As the day progressed I kept thinking of more words I could create in
honor of our church's anniversary. Quasquimortis--numbness in the
hand due to writing too long and too fast. Quasquinalysys--thinking
too hard trying to ananlyze where to find a key tidbit of history.

Quasquitude--gratitude for having the privilege to write this book.
Quasquileged--privileged to be the Pastor at Second. Quasquimazed--
stunned at God's amazing grace to our church.

The QuasquiEnd.

Fantasy

I'm glad the All-Star break is over. Now we can return to real
baseball. Go Cardinals. For decades I had little interest in the
game, but now I find myself returning more and more to my first sports
love.

Much of this renewed interest is due to Albert Pujols. I can't
remember anyone dominating the first half of a season like he has thus
far this year.

When I was a boy living at 1040 S. Sprigg in Cape Girardeau during the
early 1960s, I would play baseball for hours. Alone. I would hit
monster home runs, watch the invisible ball fly hundreds of feet, hear
the silent deafening roar of the crowd, and then slowly circle the
bases in my back yard as the applause thundered.

Micky Mantle and Willy Mays, my heroes, hit over 500 home runs
apiece. I did too. All of them in my backyard.

Staff Meeting Details

Two items came up at staff meeting that I need to report on. Everyone
gasped when I said I did not know what a Ramen noodle was. One person
even asked, "How did you get through college?"

Later a Ramen noodle mysteriously appeared in my mail tray. I ate it
yesterday. Wow. Pretty good. My cullinary world has been expanded.

I was also chided at staff meeting for not using culturally accepted
abbreviations in my text messages. May b I need 2 get mor n line wth
th program.

I can't do it. To be this sloven in my communications would cause my
tenth grade English teacher to roll over in her grave. Rest at peace,
Miss Sadler.

Nostalgia

I'm having trouble returning to the blogging mode after the wedding.
It's like everything screeched to a halt, and it's hard to overcome
inertia.

I always get sentimental at weddings. My marriage has been idyllic,
and I think at weddings I am subconsciously hoping the newlyweds will
have what Ruth and I have.

I married at the grand old age of 19. If I had it to do again, I
would have married at 17 and saved myself two tough years.

Ruth was 23 when we married. Her school teacher salary provided us a
living the first two years of our married life.

Are We Married?

John called. "Son, I wasn't expecting a call from you. Are you
okay?" "I would be better if I were married to this woman with me."
"Huh??!!" "We forgot to sign the marriage license." "Son, only the
preacher and two witnesses sign it." "Then we are legally married?"
"Yes." The last sound I heard was a holler of happiness.

We're Wed

It was beautiful. Yes, I cried. Tears of joy. They are a precious
couple. An army of people is cleaning up at church.

We're Ready

Pictures are done. We are quietly waiting to start. Crowd is
gathering.

Sweetarts are available in the reception area. I am addicted to
them. I have eaten my share, plus yours too.

Next blog update will be after the ceremony.

We're Ready

Pictures are done. We are quietly waiting to start. Crowd is
gathering.

Sweetarts are available in the reception area. I am addicted to
them. I have eaten my share, plus yours too.

Next blog update will be after the ceremony.

We're Here

All the guys are in the Restless Room putting on tuxedos. The gals
are getting dolled up in the bride's room.

Pictures start at noon. I am wearing the new suit I wore for my
convention sermon in Louisville.

I am wearing a brand new green tie and a brand new tie bracelet. It
has three charms on it. Dogs. Yep. Ruth felt it would be wrong to
totally leave out the three family members who won't be at the wedding.

We're Up

Nervous. Excited. Ready. Ruth is gone to the grocery store for last
minute details. Hoping the rain will stop by 3 pm.

John has already given me detailed instructions about taking care of
the boys next week during the honeymoon. No, he did not ask us to
come along on the honeymoon.

Tomorrow

Wedding rehearsal is over. Joy and gladness abound. This is going to
be a happy wedding and an even happier marriage. John and Amanda seem
totally enamored with each other. That's the way it should be.

A Tombstone Pillow

Spent much of yesterday with grandchildren.  What better way to spend a day off?  Ian (age 4) told me Lilly Ruth (age 2) was fussing a lot.  When I asked why she was grumpy, he said, “Because God made her like that.”  Irrefutable theology.

 

Took Sam with me to do a cemetery run.  I’m still tracking down graves of Second Baptist charter members.  Sam’s autism causes him to want to run toward things he really likes—his gameboy, his DVD player, the trampoline, etc.  In the graveyard, though, he would take off running, go maybe ten steps, and then turn around as if to say, there’s nothing out here worth running to.  I knew I had worn him out when I saw him lean against one of the tombstones and rest his head on it.  I had mercy on him and we left the necropolis.

 

Caleb is one of our young people going to Rockaway Beach every day this week to help with VBS.  He’s having a great time.  Ken and Jaci did a great job planning this mission project.

 

My new computer is to be installed in about 53 minutes.  Hopefully I will be able to cope.

 

Humor helps.  Classified ad bloopers.  Dynamite workers wanted:  must be willing to travel.  Great dames for sale.  Amana washer $100:  owned by clean bachelor who seldom washed.  Vacation special:  have your home exterminated.  Toaster:  automatically burns toast.  Christmas gifts for the hard-to-find person.

 

Going Home

Two of our dearest, eldest, saints will be buried this morning.  Heaven is a bit sweeter today than it was yesterday.  Their funerals are at the same time.  Ed Meyer is preaching one; I’m preaching the other.

 

I’ll be going to Walnut Grove for the burial.  I don’t think I’ve ever been there.  On the way back, I may detour to see Ash Grove, where Randy Moore, our Minister of Media, lives.  He speaks of it as if it were Heaven.  I need to see for myself if this may be the New Jerusalem.

 

Don’t you love the Cardinals?  Pujols is a hitting machine.  I love watching him play.  It doesn’t hurt anything that he is Jesus-full and drug-empty.

 

Over the weekend I finished a good amount of writing on the quasquicentennial book for our church.  I still wish I had more original material to work with, but the story will nevertheless come through loud and clear.

 

I’m still trying to perfect my new blog format.  Please forgive any odd looking layouts.  I’m determined to master this thing.

 

Humor helps.  When will all the rhetorical questions end?  Never slap a man chewing tobacco (what if it’s a woman?).  Never kick a cow chip on a hot day (I don’t recommend it for cold days either).  Always drink upstream from the herd (I suggest you try bottled water).

 

Partying

I just came from Lilly Ruth’s second birthday party.  I could literally sit and stare at her for hours.  She is beautiful and perfect in every way.  When we gave her cake to eat, she did not spill one speck on herself.  She was dainty to the end.  Happy birthday, Lilly Ruth.

Speaking of parties, John and Amanda will marry one week from today.  You as a church have prayed for us, served us, carried us through dark waters, and loved us every step of the way these last 18 months.  Now we hope you will come party with us.  Without you, we would not have made it this far.

I have journeyed to cemeteries, seeking the gravesites of Second Baptist charter members.  I’m not doing real well thus far.  Writing the history of our church, though, is about as much fun as I’ve had on a project in a long time.

I’m preaching on Lincoln tomorrow morning.  The sermon will last about 35 minutes, which will make it one of the longest sermons I’ve preached in years.  Remember, they who endure to the end shall be saved.

Church and Family

I’m frustrated.  Spent three hours last night on Ancestry.com researching charter members of Second.  I am working on our quasquicentennial (125 years) book, but am finding precious little about the people who began our church.  Names and dates are somewhat available, but stories are missing.  It’s making my work difficult.  Without an abundance of prime sources, it’s hard to resurrect events from 125 years ago.

I’m excited.  There’s only one item on the Marshall/Bolin/Williams collective agenda.  Wedding!!!  July 11, 3 pm, here at church.  John and Amanda are both giddy with excitement.  The rest of us are too.  The Lord has blessed our family.  To borrow a phrase from the back of our one dollar bill, annuit coeptis, He has favored our undertakings.

Our church offices will be closed tomorrow, Friday July 3, in honor of the fourth.  Have a safe holiday.  By the way, speaking of July 4, do you know what the most patriotic letter is?  Y—because it’s the fourth of July.