John's Birth

Today in 1974 my son John was born at Lakeside Hospital for Women in Metarie (New Orleans) LA. I was in the delivery room. The doctor did not spank him, but gave him a shot instead.

Our Christian doctor, James Seese, told me to learn a lesson from John's first cry. He said his breath did not come from within him, but was borrowed from God's atmosphere. It was a lesson highlighting our utter dependence on God.

John was born at 12:44pm. He has from that first moment been a delightful son. Ruth and I are proud of him.

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Memorial Day

These are the only two pictures on my basement study wall at home. They are of my maternal grandfather, Rev. Aubrey Beal Hill. That's his actual shingle that hung on his tent in France. He was a veteran of both World Wars, a doughboy in WW1, an army chaplain in WW2.

He was a man always driven by duty. When Pearl Harbor was attacked he was already 45 years old. When he went to the recruiting office, they laughed at his thinking he could enter the army at that old age. However, as months went by, and the casualties mounted, they let him in.

He was the most contented man I ever knew. He and Grandma sat side by side in matching recliners for 25 years. They watched PBS (preachers, baseball, and soap operas). He died at 90. Grandma's first request was that his recliner be moved out. She couldn't bear looking at it with him not in it.

It's Memorial Day weekend. Thank a veteran.

Back to Oats

Since my weight has been up lately, I have decided to return to oats for breakfast. It's as easy as 1-2-3-4.

1 cup of oats. 2 cups of water. 3 to 4 minutes in microwave, depending on the consistency you prefer. Add nothing. No brown sugar, no sweetener, no fruit, no nothing, except a dash of salt. Happy eating.

Pedicure

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Four-year-old Lilly Ruth had her first pedicure yesterday. She told the lady, "I want green, blue, yellow, orange, red. I can't do purple because I don't have six toes."

More Broken Wrist Thoughts

My recent blog about breaking my wrist while in the act of preaching, which happened in April 1981, brought back a few other salient memories about the event. It did not hurt much until the nurse at ER who was checking me in asked what happened. When I said I broke it while preaching she laughed, and slapped my hand, saying, "You're kidding!!". I saw stars and almost fainted. I would not encourage this technique among ER workers.

An older gentlemen was sitting in the ER waiting area by me. When I told him what had happened, he chuckled, and said, "The Lord sure does speak in mysterious ways." I never did for sure know what he meant by that.

On my last visit to Dr. Glogovac, I told him I would never hit a pulpit hard enough to break a bone again. He laughed and said, "Don't worry about it, it's impossible to break the hamate bone." They always referred to me as the guy with the broken hamate. For it to break, I think three bones had to hit each other end to end at a perfect angle. Only people in car wrecks or other crushing incidents ever broke a hamate, as far as they knew. Wouldn't you know it would happen to me.

By the way, I never have hit a pulpit real hard again ever since then.

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Blue Slings

Lilly Ruth fractured her left elbow. When I saw her in a blue sling, I immediately had a flashback to 30 years ago when I had to wear one.

Lilly Ruth broke her bone by falling off playground equipment. I broke mine by hitting a pulpit wrong. Yes that's right. As far as I know I am the only preacher to break a left wrist while in the act of preaching.

I hit my fist on a Criswell Bible at the wrong angle. I knew immediately I had broken it, but made it through to the end of the sermon without anyone knowing I had hurt it.

At the end of church I immediately found Ruth, and told her I needed to go to ER. She was kind. To this day, she still doesn't razz me about my pulpit stupidity on that day.

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Mothers Day Thoughts

Yesterday was a blessed Mother's Day for me. I spent all day with Ruth. I was the obvious winner in that deal.

On Friday night we had the three mothers together for a party. I'm grateful my wife is the mother of my children. I'm grateful Rebekah and Amanda are the mothers of my grandchildren.

I sent my mom her favorite gift, a $50 gift certificate to McDonalds. Yes, that's also what I send her for her birthday and Christmas. She truly believes I am a great and dutiful son. One thing is sure, Mom is always easy to buy for.

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Ruth Kidnapped Me

At 3pm yesterday Ruth kidnapped me (or as she said, husband-napped me). She felt I needed time away.

She surprised me by bringing me to the Elvis Presley Suite (room 409) at the Best Western Rail Haven Motor Lodge on Glenstone Ave. I have wanted to do this for years. I love it here. I am surrounded by Elvis memorabilia, including a neon Elvis on one of the walls. This is living life in tall cotton.

Elvis and his mom stayed here in May 1956, when he did a concert at the Shrine Mosque. Ruth brought me here in May 2012 to celebrate that big event. To say this is a wonderful gift would be a huge understatement. I'll be talking about this for years to come. Thanks, sweet babe.

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Baseball and WW2

I love baseball. I love American history. Recently I read something that combined the two. Many baseball players walked away from their careers to serve in World War 2.

On December 8, 1941, the day after Pearl Harbor was attacked, Bob Feller, arguably the best pitcher in baseball at the time, walked into a recruiting office to volunteer for the US Navy. He was the first of many pro baseball players who signed up, including such famous names as Ted Williams, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, and Stan Musial.

If potential statistics for what some of these men would have done had they not gone off to war are added to their career totals, the numbers can be stunning. Makes singing the national anthem at the beginning of a baseball game take on added significance, doesn't it?

By the way, Bob Feller became a gun captain aboard the USS Alabama. He was decorated with five campaign ribbons and eight battle stars. Play ball!!

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Playing Catch-up

Times have changed. Not too long ago I scheduled at least one hour of office work for every day away from the office. That's no longer the case. Smart phones changed everything.

Everywhere I go I am able to do office work: telephone calls, emails, text messages, sermon editing, etc. When I return to the office, there is much less stacked up to do. That's the good news.

Now the bad news. You never totally escape work. A full day's Sabbath rest seems elusive. You feel yourself torn between taking time to rest while away, or whether you want a smaller stack on your desk when you return to the office. It's a trade-off I struggle with daily.

As you know, I love my iPhone. It is my traveling companion at all times in all places. It allows me to stay connected, but I have to admit, somedays I think I would be better off disconnected for a while. Please don't tell my phone I said that.

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