LOVE FIRST…LOVE MOST

STUCK on the BEACH

It was Sunday afternoon. It caused a lot of Monday Moaning for a lot of people.

My family loves the Florida beach. This was one of our first visits. We were returning from morning church. My daughter and youngest son were with me in our gray van. I asked them if they would like for us to drive along the beach.

From our condo balcony, I had watched other cars driving along the wide, hard-packed sands. This would be fun and memorable.

I had visions of movie scenes where people enjoyed the wind, surf, and smells of the seaside as they drove along the beautiful beach. The ultimate scenic drive. Sand to the right. Ocean to the left. Dolphins jumping in the sea. Seagulls soaring overhead. Seabreeze blowing into your face.

I drove down the ramp access to the beach. I had not anticipated the unusually large crowd close to the beach entrance. This was a highly popular Sunday spot. Many more people than at church. They were packed closer together and acted happier.

That was not a deterrent since I was familiar with more desolate stretches just a short distance away. I had walked the beach several times, passing only a few dozen people scattered across the two-mile stretch.

As I turned onto the beach, I discovered (1) it was high tide, (2) the driving sand was soft, (3) there was only one driving lane shared by cars going both directions, and (4) the beachgoers were very close to the car path. They were so close one could high five the sunbathers while driving past them.

This was a mistake!

The high-tide ocean was at its closest distance from the dunes which made this time the smallest area of beach for the entire day. My biggest discovery was this was not a good time nor good conditions for a drive along the beach. In fact, it was absolutely the worst time, unless one were driving a four-wheel-drive jeep. I took it on in a large heavy van.

I was slugging through the soft sand until I found the one set of ruts which gave some traction to the few vehicles driving the beach. I was about 600 yards from the access road. I had not cleared the beach area filled with patrons’ chairs, towels, food, and drinks when a line of three jeeps closed in on my front bumper.

I am a nice guy who pulled over to allow the jeeps to pass. Big mistake to be nice at that point. Bigger mistake to move out of the ruts and into the soft sand dune. I came to a complete stop as my tires began to lose traction. That was the biggest mistake…at least up to this point of the story.

As I began to move back toward the ruts, my tires started spinning in the sand. The spinning tires only sank the vehicle deeper into the sand. The situation was deteriorating rapidly.

Biggest mistake plus one degree worse.

This was not going to work. I needed to get this van off the beach.

I watched as the sun-bathers popped up their heads to see the commotion. Someone would sit up, do a double take, and tap the person next to them. That dude would glance over at us, rise to his knees, and turn around yelling at the next person to gawk at the strange sight. Girls would pull down their sunglasses to look in disgust.

My kids informed me that everyone was staring and pointing at us. I acted surprised. Apparently, the Florida Welcome Center was closed this Sunday afternoon.

It was time to ‘exit stage right’ as quickly as possible. I turned the van toward the dunes so I could make a U-turn back into the ruts, headed to the safety of the paved road. There is a lesson in beginner physics taught to children. It is easier to gain momentum going downhill than up the slope. That is why skiers slalom down the mountainside, and rocks roll downhill. In fear of the water, I tried the latter.

This was a bigger mistake than the previously biggest mistake.

Now I was stuck. Really stuck. The tires were spinning. The wheels began to sink deeper into the soft terrain. It looked like a Sahara Desert haboob as the swirling winds and flying sand blocked out the horizon. (I just like the sound of that word–haboob. I never imagined I would share haboob in a public forum.).

It was raining sand.

The swirling sand had to land somewhere. Unbeknownst to me, it was spraying the beach crowd. Yep, I was throwing sand onto the people working on their tan lines and beers.

Can you imagine the scene? Can you imagine the outrage of the beach crowd? Can you imagine the fear of the gray van driver with the Louisiana car tag?

No, you cannot. It was much worse than you imagine. Try to envision it again. Still worse than that.

One would have thought Godzilla invaded the beach. The peaceful beach scene was now in terror mode.

Fists started knocking on my window and words my young kids did not need to hear filled the air. A mob had risen from their Sunday relaxation, shouting words of discouragement, and shaking sand out of their chairs, food, and swimsuits. Children building sandcastles were now crying in protest.

I do not recall anyone offering to help except for one guy who told me to throw away the keys and leave.

My kids were frightened. Kala was a young teenager without a driver’s license or any driving experience except bumper cars. Derek was a little kid ready to walk the beach to get away from the embarrassment.

I tried to stay calm. I had been a quarterback in front of a stadium packed crowd, a point guard shooting game-deciding pressure free throws, a future dad in the waiting room with a wife in emergency delivery.

People always say this is no time to panic. This was a time to panic. I just could not show it. I always taught our kids to stop, take a deep breath, and THINK.

No one in the history of mankind has ever calmed down because someone told them to calm down. My next plan proved that I was not as calm as I pretended. It probably proved that I was not thinking either.

I told Kala to get behind the steering wheel and drive, while I pushed the van towards the safety of the ruts. I planned to use my superhero strength to rock the sand-stuck van to freedom.

I crawled out of the van barefoot in my Sunday dress clothes. The sweltering sand was as burning hot as the sun. My first few steps had the familiar sound of sizzling fajitas. Apparently, my dancing feet were amusing to the scantily clad swimwear crowd.

A family philosopher once declared there was nothing as good for the soul as splashing ocean water on it. It’s pretty good for sand-burned feet as well.

The smell of the ocean breeze was prevalent. However, this beach paradise was far away from the peaceful rhythm of the sun-soaked waves on a secluded shoreline.

The sand glistened and the ocean waves roared as I barked instructions to my daughter. She looked so cute and so brave. I told her to hold on to the steering wheel and step on the gas pedal. Keep her eyes straight ahead.

I feared the van might begin to move too fast. I did not have to worry about that. It never budged an inch. No momentum. No movement at all, except for the sand and sweat running down the inside of my slacks.

Bigger than bigger than the biggest mistake.

I watched the sand fly into the angry crowd. Fortunately, it is very difficult to lynch someone on a beach. A few sand-covered beer cans buzzed by my head.

The van was too deep into the soft sand and too heavy to push. This was not going to work.

A couple of guys came to help, but quickly abandoned the rescue project. One told me to wait on a jeep to come by. There were some guys who had a tow chain.

I flagged them down. They offered to help…for twenty-five dollars. I was in no place to bargain.

They extricated my van from the seashore dilemma. They dragged me back into the ruts to the sarcastic applause of people with sand in their bathing suits.

Another lesson for the beach driver beginner. A large van might be able to slowly move through hardened sand. The momentum helps the traction. However, a stationary large van has an extremely difficult time gaining any acceleration without digging its own demise.

I was back in the driver’s seat. Kala was fighting tears while trying to encourage her troubled dad. I think Derek was halfway back to the condo.

We were stuck…again. I waited for the cool guys in the jeep to reappear. They came back by with another twenty-five dollars of beer in their cooler. Did I need another tow? Of course. Twenty-five more dollars!

This time, I bargained. Only if you tow my van all the way to the paved parking lot. My first good decision of the day. In the famous words of Scarlett O’Hara, “Let’s go home and I’ll think of some way to get back. After all, tomorrow is another day!”

I can only imagine the many Monday Moaning storytellers that next day talking about the idiot who ruined their weekend fun in the sun.

Good memories come in many packages. Thankfully, our family has a truckload of precious beach memories.

Here is a Monday Moaning thought. Your circumstances could always be worse. Get some perspective. Then get some eternal perspective.

Like my stuck on the beach moment, things felt pretty bad at the time. Lots of moments in life have felt that way.

If the beach stuff had been the worst thing that ever happened in my life, then I would have had a pretty good life.

Worse things have happened. I can honestly say, I have a lived a really good life. Fully blessed in every way.

God overcomes our big mistakes, our bigger mistakes, and our biggest mistakes.

“Count it all joy…Various trials will come and test your faith, but God uses them to produce growth in character and steadfastness” (James 1:2-4).

The word “character” comes from a Greek verb which describes cutting a groove or making a mark on something. Character is what marks your life. It defines who you are.

CHARACTER MATTERS!

You are not born with it. It is built into your life, much like the building of a house. The bricks are made up of faith, hope, and love. Trustworthiness, honesty, truthfulness, respect, responsibility become building blocks.

There are many life irritants worse than sand in your bathing suit. Most of us have something that rubs us the wrong way almost every day. We have daily interactions with irritating individuals, the sand in our shorts.

Remember that an oyster covers its shell-invader with layers of some altering substance until the irritating visitor becomes a beautiful, valuable pearl. Loving first and most covers the annoying people in your life. It might take some time, but it is far better than allowing their constant irritation to ruin your life.

God uses circumstances and other people to build character into your life. The building materials are pressed together by the various trials that you experience. Your mistakes only add more color.

Godly character loves first and loves most. Go for it! You might be sitting on the beach someday, enjoying the surf and sun, when some idiot drives onto the shoreline, sending sand into your face and swimwear.

Remember. It could be worse. You could be the driver.

WINSDAY WISDOM 210

Some of our grandkids are into Marvel movies. Guardians of the Galaxy featured an adventurer who must unite four misfits against a cosmic threat to destroy this whole galaxy. The crew found a higher purpose for their lives and saved the galaxy.

The sequels describe these superheroes as “without a plan, but they get the job done.”

That would describe my role as a grandparent.

Grandkids are the best. I will not use this format to make you gag over my prideful exuberance. Just substitute your kids and grandkids into this fable.

We recently had the joy of having our grandkids around for a while. That does not happen enough. It is fun, entertaining, enjoyable, and tiring. This old gray mare??? (I did not think I should use the more appropriate ‘Old gray stud’) just ain’t what it used to be.

I would not trade the precious and memorable moments for anything.

This Winsday Wisdom is devoted to Babe and Bubba as Guardians of the Grandkids. I usually do not have a plan, but I am very good at improvisation that somehow saves the day and keeps the time fun.

Our living area serves as a game room, performance arts stage, gymnasium, wrestling mat, track meet, sports complex, construction site, grandkids’ clothing drop-off center, movie theatre, a gathering place for coloring or reading, and command center for the snack bar to stay open.

It has occasionally served as a medical staging area to stop the bleeding before the trip to Urgent Care for stitches.

Somehow, Babe keeps everything neat, operational, and loving. Since the front of the fireplace serves as the main stage for performers and winners, it has been essential that I clear the area of Babe’s decorative pottery displays before the coming storm.

This protects the kids and the pottery and the blame Bubba for not being a good Guardian. Before the young company arrives, I move the decorative pieces to a safer area in the corner of the piano room. That space is sometimes used as a doll house or staging area for the next air raid.

The décor is usually protected unless one of our wild rock and rolling Jerry Lee Lewis imitators gets on the piano. Then Great Balls of Fire with a Whole Lot of Shakin’ Going On.

Chantilly Lace and a pretty face
And a ponytail hangin’ down
A wiggle in her walk and a giggle in her talk
Make the world go ’round

Ain’t nothing in the world like big-eyed grandkids

To make me act so funny, make me spend my money…

Last week, I forgot to move the large red plate and its stand located just left of the fireplace. I noticed a granddaughter leaning up against it as she looked at the family pictures on the shelf behind. At the same time, a bouncing ball and two diving bodies landed near it.

Calling 911 Rescue. I leaped to my feet and quickly salvaged the plate from imminent destruction. It was placed in the safety of the far corner in the adjacent room. It survived the visit just as it had for the previous ten years as each grandchild had his/her opportunities to take it down.

The Guardians of the Galaxy could not have accomplished a better rescue operation. I do feel like a Superhero at times.

After the families were gone and the tears were brushed away, we rested. At least I did until I realized Vicki was cleaning the house. It was time for the Guardian of the Grandmother to step into action.

I pulled out the vacuum cleaner and plugged it in. Vicki said not to do that now. It can wait.

I wanted to help and get everything done so we could both rest and reflect on the good pictures from the time with the grandkids. This was my chance to show how to love first and most. It is not just flowers and candy. Sometimes, it looks like pushing a vacuum cleaner. I did a good job.

As I was putting the vacuum cleaner away, I noticed the large pottery plate. It had survived another Invasion of the Body-Snatchers. This was a good time to get it back to its proper place.

We have a “family truism” that has been passed on to our kids and grandkids:

WHEN WE DISOBEY, ACCIDENTS HAPPEN OR SOMEONE GETS HURT.

There is a reason this saying has survived for subsequent generations. The list is long.

This day, another accident was added to the list.

As I carried the large pottery plate and its stand back to the living area, I bumped a bookcase in the entry way. The impetus started a chain reaction.

Impetus. What a strange word. A powerful force which sets something in motion.

In unstoppable slow motion, the plate fell forward and crashed onto the hardwood floor.

Not even a superhero could stop the cosmic damage that exploded my galaxy.

I watched the explosion of ceramic pottery bouncing off the wood floor. It went down in one piece and returned upward in several fragments.

In a nanosecond, I did what my grandkids failed to do in ten years.

Breaking something creates a plethora of thoughts and emotions.

I felt like WKRP radio newsman, Les Nessman, as he reported on the ill-fated turkey drop promotion, “Oh, my goodness! Oh, the humanity! Not since the Hindenburg tragedy has there been anything like this.”

In one of the all-time comedic moments in television history, live turkeys were dropped from a helicopter onto the mall parking lot as part of a disastrous radio station promotion. (Google it on YouTube.)

The pottery plate disaster was equally traumatic, but less funny…for me.

The loud crash echoed through the house.

I could not even use the excuse of the befuddled WKRP boss man, Mr.  Carlson, “Honestly, I thought turkeys could fly.”

This plate did not fly. It plummeted to the floor like a dive bomber on a kamikaze mission. I wished I could fly away. It took every ounce of my manhood not to run for the hills.

When we disobey, accidents happen.

I must disobey a lot. My home was not insured for “Mayhem like this.”

There was no hiding this disaster. There was no way it could be blamed on the grandkids. Trust me. I tried to think of some ways. The grandkids have a bigger storehouse of grace than I do.

The other three matching set pieces stood in motionless mourning for their fallen leader. They were playing Taylor Swift’s song, We are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Never, ever, ever, ever.

My mind was more into the Beatles. Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now I need a place to hide away…

I wish I knew Kintsugi, the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold. It carries the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art. I could only hope that someone close to me would continue to embrace my flaws and imperfections.

I Googled kintsugi. The search suggested I try hari-kari.

I scrambled for a broom and dustpan…and a remote hiding place. Maybe the dog could take the fall for this mishap. She stood there watching with pitiful eyes and wagging her tail. She offered her doghouse for an asylum.

I did not break the law or break the internet. I did not even break the rules. But I felt worse than if I had.

Babe was gracious. Above Bed, Bath, and Beyond gracious. I lived to tell this tale.

She assumed I was carrying the plate and stand with two hands. I can honestly say I never thought of that.

I recently read the quote:

NO AMOUNT OF REGRET CAN CHANGE THE PAST. NO AMOUNT OF ANXIETY CHANGES THE FUTURE. BUT ANY AMOUNT OF GRATITUDE CHANGES THE PRESENT. (Mark and Angel Chernoff)

I wish it were as easy to drop one’s worries, stress, disappointments, and regrets as it was to drop that pottery plate. The longer you hold them, the heavier they get.

I am grateful for Babe’s grace. She showed me the love first and love most of forgiveness. “It is just a thing.” People are more important than things.

I have too many flaws to be perfect, but far too many blessings to be ungrateful. Every day, I become more and more a Guardian of Gratitude. God’s grace covers my past regrets and future anxieties. Most importantly, God has a plan to rescue and bless me today.

“God uses broken clouds to produce rain, broken ground to produce crops, broken grain to produce bread, and broken bread to produce strength” (Vance Havner).

“God does not break things so He can fix them; He fixes broken things so He can use them” to bless other people (Bob Goff).

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed (2 Corinthians 4:7-9).

Your life does not have to end up in shattered pieces. God turns those broken pieces into masterpieces. God heals broken hearts, broken dreams, and broken lives. You do not have a broken future.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).

God’s grace overflows in your life. I hope you see and sense it. Undeserved forgiveness and unearned goodness. I hope you express your gratitude for it.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine with ten thousand beside

Great is Thy faithfulness
Great is Thy faithfulness
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me

God’s grace is both Pardon and Power.

Pardon from all our selfish “disobedient accidents.”

Power to Love First and Love Most in every relationship.

You are a Guardian of God’s Love. You do not have to become a super-hero. But why not go for it?

You have been infused with the impetus of love. Let it flow!

I love being a Guardian of the Grandkids. I also imagine myself as superhero Guardian of their Grandmother Babe. I am just not very great at it…yet. But I never quit trying!

My tombstone will carry the inscription, “Here lies the Guardian of the Grandkids and their Babe…He meant well.”

WINSDAY WISDOM Session 209

Sometimes you feel as if you are emotionally hanging on by one thin thread unraveling in your hands. Thankfully, God has a firm grip on the other end, and He will never let you go.

Sometimes our relationships can leave us hanging on. The Supremes had a classic hit song titled, You Keep Me Hangin’ On.

Why do you keep a-coming around
Playing with my heart?
Why don’t you get out of my life
And let me make a new start?
Let me get over you
The way you’ve gotten over me, hey

You just keep me hangin’ on (Ooh-ooh-ooh)
Now you don’t really want me
You just keep me hangin’ on

More often than not, it is customer service that keeps us hanging on…and on…and on.

We have all experienced it. We have all been frustrated by it. We might need to correct a false charge or file a complaint or get some information about our account. It should be a quick Q&A. But it starts with an automated response designed to make you jump through hoops until your exasperation level exceeds its emotional limits.

I am certain you have stories to top my latest encounter. Airlines, internet service, cell phone issues, and insurance lead the list. My account is just intended as a mutual bonding experience between us. Just nod and say, “Been there.”

My recent visit to the doctor resulted in the receptionist informing me that my secondary health insurance was inactive. That was shocking news to me. I came home and called my insurance company.

I received the traditional automated recording requesting my identification and purpose for calling. [Please note that I know most of the hacks to get to a real person. Keep punching zero because screaming at the cell phone does not work. My best method is to drive my SUV through the front doors of the office complex and request some personal attention.]

First comes the automated option, For English, continue. Para español, oprime dos. That is followed by the announcement that this call might be recorded. Oh, please do. Next comes the admonition to hang up and call 911 if this is a life-threatening medical emergency. The customer service office hours are detailed, which are usually closed when I have time to call for assistance.

The automated voice continues with a notice that due to Covid, high call volume, or March Madness, the wait time will be longer than normal. {Note that the initial recording does not respond to sarcastic questions such as, “Do you mean longer than the normal eighteen-hour call-waiting period?”]

Then comes the suggestion that it might be faster and more convenient to log on to their website. Of course, you will need to sign up, log in, insert your username and password. Former passwords are not allowed. You must use a password that conforms to their demand that the password be nine letters long and not easily identifiable. It must include one capital letter, one special character (I tried to declare my brother Bill as a special ed character, but that did not work), no repeated numbers, and no numbers that I might ever remember.

That password was weak, medium, “This is a bunch of bunk” is unacceptable.

I will need to insert all my personal info: name, address, phone, email, marital status, health condition, and payment preference. That will get me a code sent to my email to verify that I am who I am. If I can access the site with my new code, it will ask me to prove that I am not a robot by selecting the picture squares with a crosswalk or bus or blue whale.

A correct response allows me to scroll for information that tells me I need to contact the main customer service department by phone. Please call this 800 number that I was previously on so I can hear the five-minute introduction once again.

Back to the glad to have me as a customer service menu. Finally, I am connected to the customer service call center located somewhere on the other side of the universe. Speed is not considered an important factor.

There is another recording. “Please listen carefully as our menu has changed.” How sad is it that the company expects me to complain so often that I have the menu memorized!

If you need insurance, say or dial 1. If you need a list of doctors and hospitals under this plan, say or dial 2. If you are about to curse, say or dial 3.” Then you must listen to options 4, 5, 6, and 7. “If you wish to speak to a live customer representative, say or dial 8.” Hooray! The jackpot. It would be easier to win the lottery.

Please hang on at the end of this call for a brief survey.

A real voice? No, a recording that I am now customer eight in the queue. Thirty-five minutes later, I am now next in line.

Finally…Thank you for waiting. Your call is important to us.” More music. I am not as stupid as I act. If this call were important to the company, they would have expedited a personal conversation.

This recording by a professional spokesperson played by a machine was made years ago by someone who has zero interest in my existence or current situation. There is no possible way that the originators of this message are sorry I have to wait.

And what does the company expect from these countless irritations and aggravations?

My anger level has been recalibrated. I am about to make another innocent person feel as miserable as I do.

A glimmer of hope. It sounds like a human voice. “Are you still hanging on?”

“Please do not hang up, someone will be with you shortly.“

Why did I teach my grandkids that patience was ‘waiting with a smile’?

To expedite your service, please say or type in your name. Rex Blankenship. Did you say Rex Blankenship? Say or Press 1 for ‘Yes.’ Say or Press 2 for ‘No.’

What is your date of birth? I did not get that. Could you repeat that? Now confirm that with a ‘Yes.”  [Note: There are many more questions, but you know the drill. Every answer is repeated and must be confirmed.]

Before you talk to the customer representative, be sure to have your drivers license, insurance card, and case number available. If you do not have those ready, please keep hanging on until you do…or call back later.

Really??? Are you kidding me? I just want to talk to a real person! Customer service technology does not take note of my body language, facial expressions, or comedic sarcasm. At this point, wouldn’t you just like to hear the non-person automated system reply, “You do not have to shout!”

Shazam! It happens! A live voice comes on the line. ‘This is Bura????somebody. Thank you for your patience. Who am I talking to?”

Of course, I can barely understand the foreign accent or their name. I am not prejudiced of people from other countries. I admire their willingness to work and to learn to be conversant in a new language. I am just saying that it can make the customer experience challenging.

What is your name? Rex. Can you spell that? First of all, I imagine my name appears on your computer screen along with all the other personal information your insurance company has about me. If you listen, you can hear my voice get louder and more emphatic.

R-E-X. Did you say R-E-S? No, R as in Radio, E as in Echo. X as in X-ray. Did you say R-E-X-A?

This is not going to go well.

Several times, I had to ask him to repeat his questions which I could not understand. Every time, he asked me to repeat my answer and spell it out.

It got worse when I responded that I lived in Broken Arrow. I had to spell it out several times. He asked me if I were Indian. When I said the city was in Oklahoma, he asked how to spell that. Then the coup-de-gras was when he asked if Oklahoma was in the United States. No lie!

I know you don’t really care about my detailed description at this point, so just put me on hold and play some music. Check back in a few moments for any progress in this tale.

He kept me hanging on! I will condense this interaction to a frenzy of frustration. Eventually, he passed me to another agent who spoke better English but was even more confusing.

I was never notified of the cancellation or any opportunity to be reinstated. When I asked why I was deactivated, I was placed on hold. She returned to tell me that another department made the decision, and she would transfer this call to them.

I was Number Four in the queue. More music. More suggestions to use the online connection.

Why was my insurance canceled? She actually asked me if I had tried to Google the answer.

She asked if I made any payments. I replied, “Don’t you have a record of my payments? I am looking at my bank statements and I have a record of them.”

Her response? “Do you mind hanging on while I check that?”

I would have felt more hopeful if I were hanging on a tight rope over Niagara Falls while visitors pelted me with snowballs.

The Tier Two representative asked me if she could help me with anything else today. What? You were unable to help me with the issue I contacted you about.

I think she noticed the sarcasm in my voice.

The kind lady customer representative remarked that she did not know the reason, but could connect me with the Resolutions Department. That is not the same as the Accounting Department.

I chose my words carefully. I placed safeguards on the tone of my voice. I wanted to sing the Supremes’ song.

You say although we broke up
You still wanna be just friends
But how can we still be friends
When seeing you only breaks my heart again?
And there ain’t nothing I can do about it

Whoa-whoa-whoa
Set me free, why don’t you, baby?
Whoa-whoa-whoa
Get out my life, why don’t you, baby? (Ooh-ooh-ooh)
Set me free, why don’t you, baby?
Get out my life, why don’t you, baby? 

You just keep me hangin’ on!

Hanging on. It can be frustrating. Usually, it is because we are hopeful, if only slightly hopeful. I know you can identify with frustrating customer service.

What about your own emotional hanging on or that of someone you know? There can be lingering effects from fear, grief, anxiety, or worry. It might be triggered by devastating news, stressful circumstances, unexpected loss. You feel physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained.

You might even feel spiritually disconnected or relationally detached. Your spiritual vision is impaired; your thinking is clouded. Sadness becomes your constant companion. You cannot just “snap out of it” and feel better. Something is wrong.

You feel trapped in a prison of extreme loneliness where you imagine no one cares while you battle fear that someone might check on you. You feel judged, condemned. Feelings of helplessness and uselessness and worthlessness weigh you down with self-imposed guilt. You begin to emotionally shut down, too weak to even lift your eyes toward the horizon of hope. Just hanging on by a thin thread.

Sometimes all you can do is sit in the darkness of your hurt and cry. Sometimes your prayers feel frozen in time and space. In the midst of that discouragement, the God of hope sits down beside you in the darkness, takes your hand, and holds you through the night. You are not judged; you are loved.

Even when you do not see God, feel God, hear God, sense God, God is still there, with much love and understanding, with no condemnation.

God never promised that life would be easy and carefree, but God does promise that he will never abandon us. Weeping may tarry through the night, but joy comes in the morning (#1 Textbook).

Lift up the eyes of your soul. Hope is on the horizon.

Today is a good time to review your God. Replenish your faith. You are still covered. God will never let you go or cancel His steadfast love.

And you never have to listen to an automated recording when you need to talk to God. Open the #1 Textbook any time of any day or night. Just start reading and then start talking. God has heard you while your mind was still forming its thoughts into understandable words.

God knows and cares. His customer service is highly rated. God always loves first and loves most. His love is always free and forever!

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

Is your March Madness tournament bracket already busted? Are you deep into Monday Moaning?

The Basketball Shot Heard Around the World

It was Monday Moaning night.

A three-pointer at the buzzer! It was as dramatic as it sounds! Instant ESPN Top Ten!

The fans were on their feet. It was the last minute of the third game of the season when Kyle introduced himself to the Tulsa Hurricane fans in his first college basketball game.

With fifteen seconds left in the game, Kyle stole the ball and instinctively passed it to Travis streaking to the goal. The missed lay-up was rebounded by the opponent’s defender who threw it towards mid-court. Kyle intercepted it.

In one continuous motion, Kyle stole the ball, took one dribble, and launched his shot toward the basket just as the buzzer sounded.

It was just like in the movies as everything seemed to move into slow motion. Kyle’s release was beautiful as the ball rotated off his follow through. It was everything he had dreamed about…

Nothing but the swish of the net!

Kyle jumped up and down. Teammates slapped him on the back and his family was delirious with joy.

Kyle’s buzzer-beating shot made the victory margin forty-seven points. That is correct. It was a blowout win. The fans on their feet continued to make their way to the exits.

That first three-pointer was not the only highlight of Kyle’s on-court contribution to his first successful Hurricane season. His team won the conference championship and made a post-season advance to the March Madness Sweet Sixteen.

Make the most of your time! That mantra flooded Kyle’s mind and fueled his motivation. Make the most of your time…on the basketball court and in life.

It became a life lesson to be shared with others. Always do your best. Never quit. Make your time count.

Every weekend in March finds half the college basketball teams and their coaches and fans in Monday Moaning, wondering about what might have been.

Are your Monday Moanings about what might have been? What might have been never existed and it never will.

Do you make the most of your time? Could you do better this next time? Will you do better?

Carpe Diem! That is the Latin phrase for “Seize the Day!” (Literally, “pluck the day when it is ripe”).

It was used by the Roman poet, Horace, in the first century BC times and then became a popular English expression generated by Lord Byron in his 1800’s Letters. The idiom was the title of the American poem by Robert Frost in the last century.

Be happy today. Look for opportunities in life and make the most of them.

This Monday Moaning moment is not about seizing opportunities for selfish purposes or pleasures. It is not an exhortation to seek riches, rewards, promotions, or earthly applause.

This Monday Moaning reminder is about one purpose for one day. Love First and Love Most.

I hope you are far ahead in your Love first and love most totals. Like the sweet sound of the basketball swishing through the net, it is still exciting to do it again and again.

If you are behind or in a bind, make your time count. The calendar slows for no one. This is as far back as you can get, and still come out a winner. Take the next shot. Love First. Love Most.

I once challenged some young coaches to finish strong in life, noting that none of us knows how much time we have left in this earthly life. I acknowledged that I was pretty sure I was in the fourth quarter.

My dad stood up to close our session with prayer. His opening remark was, “If Rex is in the fourth quarter, then I am in overtime.”

My dad made the most of his time, throughout the game of life and into overtime. Dad went to heaven a winner, encouraging all of us to take our love to a higher level.

Why has my game been extended into overtime? So, I could encourage you this Monday Moaning.

This is your moment to contribute to God’s team. There is a heavenly purpose for why God placed you around that person. This is your time to shine.

Our family has a saying: If you have just one minute left to live, hope that it is the last minute of a close basketball game. It will feel as if it lasts forever.

That’s right. Clock stoppage for foul shots, timeouts, TV commercials, injuries, substitutions, coaching strategy, referee discussions, replays, clock resets. There might even be overtime.

Here is a Monday Moaning verse directly from the words of Jesus about seizing the day.

“Don’t be anxious about tomorrow. God will take care of your tomorrow too. Live one day at a time” (Matthew 6:34).

Jesus preceded this encouragement with counsel not to worry about the less important things of life. God will take care of us just as He does the birds of the air and the flowers of the fields. We are of far more value. Live for God’s purpose.

This Monday Moaning is not a call to reflect on all our missed opportunities. Those times are gone.

Monday Moaning is not about past regrets or future worries. It is about today.

Start every Monday Moaning with a reminder to make loving God by loving others the primary focus of your life.

This is the week to seize your God-given opportunities to Love First and Love Most. The clock is ticking down. Make the most of your time.

Every relationship matters. Every moment matters. Every opportunity matters.

Seize the Day! Prepare your heart and mind to see the opportunity. Then seize the moment!

For all of us, it is the right time to love first and love most.

Right now, this Monday Moaning, take the shot!

Always do your best. Never quit. Make your time count.

The ball is tipped
And there you are
You’re running for your life
You’re a shooting star
And all the years
No one knows
Just how hard you worked
But now it shows…
(in) One Shining Moment, it’s all on the line
One Shining Moment, there frozen in time

And when it’s done
Win or lose
You always did your best
Cuz inside you knew…
(that) One Shining Moment, you reached for the sky
One Shining Moment, you knew
One Shining Moment, you were willing to try
One Shining Moment, you knew
One Shining Moment….

—One Shining Moment, David Barrett

No one sings it like Luther Vandross

Years ago, I watched a high school player run the wrong way in a football game. It was both wild and weird. Funny and sad. An instant classic. If a similar event happened this year, the video would go viral and secure its spot in the ESPN Top Ten highlights. The home team was playing their archrival for the conference championship. Their offense had driven down to the twenty-yard line when everything went bonkers.

The quarterback scrambled to his left until a defensive player spun him around and stripped the football from his grasp. The loose ball sailed toward the middle of the line of scrimmage.

A sophomore guard, starting his first game of the season because of a teammate’s injury, whiffed on his block attempt and fell to the turf. As he stood upright, the football hit him right in the stomach, just a few yards away from a victorious touchdown and instant stardom.

All lineman dream of one opportunity to tote the rock, to rumble with the old pigskin, to win one for the Gipper.

Unfortunately, this bumbling and befuddled lineman was facing the wrong direction. Unfazed by the pressure-packed moment, he started running for the goal line eighty yards away. This is where things got WEIRD!

The next few minutes felt like forever in slow motion. The new center of attention ducked and dodged some players engaged in gridiron combat along the line of scrimmage. His nifty sidesteps freed him from the congestion as he quickly veered toward the sideline. This was his one shining moment!

As the wrong-way prodigy raced down the field, the chase was on. Players from both teams frantically followed in hot pursuit, most as confused as this wrong way runner. Two opposing defenders, who should have pushed the galloping runner onward to their goal line, attempted to tackle him. He stiff-armed one of them, while a teammate, who should have stopped him, made a tremendous block to free him from the opponent’s desperate grasp. Not even Superman could stop this powerful locomotive.

His formidable gluteus maximus muscles stormed down the sidelines. Blasts of air plummeted through his face mask. He went airborne over another diving defender.

Football fanatics recalled similar gridiron runners. Sweetness. The Galloping Ghost. The Bus. Crazy Legs. Night Train. The Kansas Comet. Prime Time.

The absence of instinctive moves and lack of outstanding peripheral vision did not deter this ballcarrier. They only sped him on his way in the wrong direction, reminiscent of other legendary names. Doofus. Nincompoop. Riegels. Marshall. Corrigan. My younger brother.

Roy Riegels infamously executed a sixty-five yards wrong way run in the Rose Bowl championship, often cited as the worst blunder in college football history.

Minnesota Viking, Jim Marshall, accomplished the feat in the NFL. He picked up a fumble and rumbled sixty-six yards to the wrong endzone, where he celebrated by spiking the football.

“Wrong Way” Corrigan was the pilot who flew his plane west out of New York headed to Los Angeles, but somehow landed in Dublin, Ireland.

My brother? Well, he shot the basketball at the wrong goal in a high school game. However, our family shame was somewhat overshadowed when an opposing player blocked the layup. You might have to pause and envision that for a moment. Brother tried to score two points for the wrong team and a wrong-team player went to great effort to not let that happen. Dumb and Dumber.

Back to the football game. Doofus and Nincompoop were still running the wrong way down the football field in anticipation of glory.

As our hero roared past the bench area, the coaches were yelling, waving, and shouting, “NO! NO! NO!”

The cheerleaders turned around to see him dashing for the end zone and started jumping up and down, screaming, “GO! GO! GO!”

Never underestimate the powerful influence of a cheerleader’s exhortation. This young lineman pranced his way across the wrong goal line. He began to dance, holding the football high like a trophy. His first hint of wrongdoing should have been the celebratory hugs from the guys wearing different colored jerseys. In the most-watched event of his athletic career, he scored for the opposing team.

However, that is not the end of this wrong-way jaunt story. The extremely bizarre events were about to soar into new heights of the paranormal.

The awkward celebration was interrupted when an equally confused member of the rival team tackled him in the end zone. The baffled referee ran toward the pile of players with both arms straight to the sky and signaled “TOUCHDOWN,” when in fact it was a safety scored for the opposing team.

Suddenly, befuddlement and bewilderment became teammates with pandemonium and mayhem. In that moment of confusion, everyone jumped up and down, some players in jubilation, some in disgust, the coaches throwing down clipboards and headsets in anguish. The cheerleaders leaped and hugged in celebration and then…unbelievably…the band struck up the school fight song!

Both school bands filled the air with competing fight songs.

It was sheer chaos! Some fans stood in shock; others halfheartedly clapped out of loyalty to the rousing music. As my beloved uncle often said, “I was aghast!”

This was the Twilight Zone, Fifth Dimension, or some Matrix Nightmare. I stared at the outlandish scene, wondering, “What’s the matter with me? Am I crazy?”

THE GUY RAN THE WRONG WAY!

Right direction in life is more important than perfection. Which direction in life are you running? Do you remember the most important thing in life, to love God and love others? Or are you wrapped up in yourself as you run toward the opposite goal line of self-centeredness?

Right direction is a key element to living for the most important thing in life.

There is a way which seems right to people, but the wrong way is destruction (#1 Textbook). Unfortunately, we live in a society which cheers wildly for those headed down the wrong path to destruction. It seems and feels right at the time. Popularity and fun applaud every step. Even the so-called experts get it wrong.

My mother often lectured her sons, “Just because everyone else is running to jump off the cliff does not mean that you should. At least, stop and think.”

Do not listen to this world’s counsel on how to run your life. The band might even strike up the school song to celebrate chasing the wind in the wrong direction. However, when the dust clears and the rules of the game are enforced, this wrong-way runner ends up with the nothingness of vanity.

Running the wrong direction in life is an undertaking of vanity that is completely and clearly proven to be foolish, futile, and a failure, resulting in major disappointment. 

Check your spiritual direction today. Winning in life is like winning a sports championship. You do not have to do everything correctly to succeed, but right direction matters immensely.

I was reminded about the ultimate importance of direction in life when I stood on the upper level of a large Oklahoma City mall watching my three-year-old son leaning his face into the railing overlooking the food court below. It was a safe place to be, much safer than taking him into the nearby store where my wife and daughter were shopping.

I wondered what he was thinking as he stared at all the people ordering, eating, and talking about the various things which make up the stories of our lives. I did not speculate on his thoughts exceptionally long, because he suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Follow Jesus! Follow Jesus! No turning back!”

I imagine some people choked on their sandwiches or strained their necks in search of the source of the bold declaration. It remains the best sermon I ever heard, brief and to the point.

Allow me to be brief and to the point.

DIRECTION MATTERS. FOLLOW JESUS.

Get out the #1 Textbook and watch how Jesus loves people. Listen to Jesus’ words. Follow Him in that same direction.

If you are just loving others like everyone else in this self-centered culture does, then you are still headed in the wrong direction. Our culture is going in the wrong direction. Just because everyone else is running to jump off the cliff does not mean that you should. At least, stop and think.

That is all I ask. Do not become enamored with the cheers of the crowd or infatuated with our culture’s long lines. Stop and think! Check your spiritual bearings to see if you are following Jesus. If not, it only takes one breath and one step to turn in the right direction.

Love First. Love Most. How you love God and others is about direction, not perfection.

“Follow Jesus. No turning back.” (#1 Textbook)

LOVE FOLLOWS JESUS FIRST. LOVE FOLLOWS JESUS MOST.

It all begins with right direction.

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

Come Monday, it’ll be all right, Come Monday, I’ll be holding you tight. I spent four lonely days in a brown LA haze and I just want you back by my side.

Come Monday, it’ll be all right.

–Come Monday (Jimmy Buffett).

We have all experienced the soul-crushing revelation of the beginning of another tough week. This will probably not be the last or the worst Monday Moaning. A person experiences 4000 Monday Moanings over an average lifetime.

Some Mondays can be dreadful. Others can be hopeful. Most lie somewhere in between. A few Mondays can be brutal. Some can leave a bitter taste in your mouth as if you started the week sucking lemons.

This Monday moaning finds me reflecting on a vivid sad memory. I let my dad down. My dad is my hero. I am sure there were many times I let my dad down, but he never showed it. This one day was very different.

I let my dad down, literally. It was unfortunate and unforgettable.

Let me set this up.

I am one of three brothers. Our mom often stated, “Your dad thinks you boys are perfect, but I know better. I birthed you.”

The next minutes would be filled with Mom’s critique and instructions for better choices or better grammar in life’s daily grind.

Dad certainly did not think we were perfect. He just acted as if we were. Dad was our coach in life. At some point, he discreetly and imperceptibly changed into our cheerleader. I imagine the load caused Dad’s heart to weaken.

Dad’s perspective of his heart-health and his sons’ perfection was put to the test one day. The memory helps me moan with the worst of the Monday crowd.

I am not sure where I picked up this trait. My mother was not a moaner. She was a coal-miner’s daughter and proud of it. Things could always be worse. So, you do not complain. You just find a way to make things better.

Dad grew up with three brothers under the care and direction of a single, uneducated mom. They were all abandoned by their alcoholic father.

I do not remember Dad moaning…except at the ineptitude of a football official or a basketball referee. I still believe Dad was surprised to find some of them in heaven.

Dad was not a complainer. He most definitely was not a quitter. Whether it was sports, math, or life, Dad studied the situation and found a solution.

I am not sure when I became a Monday Moaner. I always liked to sleep late. I was not born until two minutes past noon. That DNA stayed with me. My prime time is late, late night.

I think my Monday moaning began when my brothers joined the family. Until then, I was king of the court. The family revolved around me. Sharing can be overrated.

But I share some of this blame with my brother, Bill.

When Dad was diagnosed with heart failure, he was assigned home hospice. That soon became unsatisfactory to Dad. He finally relented to allowing his sons to help him get up each morning and get into bed for the night.

Helen would fix his requested breakfast: Gravy. That’s right…gravy. Every meal. She would ask him if he wanted some biscuits. “No. just gravy.” Maybe some eggs? “No, just gravy.”

Dad’s health (increased weight, increased energy, great attitude) during this severe medical prognosis amazed and confounded his cardiologist. Dad survived and thrived on that diet for almost two years.

Apparently new research is needed regarding the healthy-heart benefit of gravy and milkshakes! I have been advocating that for years!

Dad’s weakened condition made it very difficult for him to walk. One of Dad’s former players sent his coach a top-of-the-line wheelchair. It greatly helped Dad maneuver around the house.

Dad needed to be transported to the cardiologist. Bill and I helped Dad to the car. We lifted the wheelchair to carry Dad down the stairs of the porch. I picked up the front of the wheelchair while Bill raised it off the porch by the rear handles.

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong. The wheelchair went limp and began to fold up.

We did not know that the modern wheelchairs fold up when lifted. When you lift the wheelchair, it folds into a slender, easy-to-carry item. This allows for quick and easy storage in the back of the transport vehicle. Very clever invention.

In this situation, Dad was still in the wheelchair. We lifted. The chair folded. Dad was squeezed like a bubble about to explode. There was a brief moment of fear that flashed across Dad’s face. He was falling and squeezed at the same time.

We panicked because we were unaware of why the wheelchair was collapsing. We frantically searched for a release button which Bill had inadvertently pushed.

We did our best to protect Dad from falling out onto the steps. When we set the occupant in the folded wheelchair on the ground, the wheelchair remained limp. We could not get it to reset into a steady chair.

As the wheelchair sides caved in to swallow Dad, he slowly sunk to the ground. We tried to let him down gently. His legs and arms were pressed together across his body.

I never heard my dad curse, but this had to be his biggest temptation for bad language. His ‘perfect’ sons let him down, literally. There he was, sitting on the ground, squeezed inside a folded wheelchair.

Bill apologized. I apologized for Bill.

Dad gave that faint smile and told us thanks for the ride.

Dad NEVER used a wheelchair again. NEVER!!!

We gave away the wheelchair to our rehab missionary.

Circumstances did not define or defeat our dad. If anything, the challenge strengthened his resolve.

Circumstances do not have to be perfect for you to get through this Monday Moaning. Perhaps someone let you down physically, emotionally, or relationally.

Attitude is a choice. A bad attitude is not the result of bad people or bad events. It comes from a bad choice in how you react to those bad people or bad circumstances.

Nothing can hinder or stop you from choosing to count your blessings rather than your bitterness. Nothing can squeeze happiness out of your life.

Monday Moaning circumstances can define you, defeat you, or strengthen you. It is your choice.

Here is a go-to verse from God’s Word, Isaiah 41:10: Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be worried, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you and I will not drop you. 

1 Peter 5:10 reminds us that after we have suffered a little while, the God of all grace will pick you up, set you firmly on your feet, and make you stronger than ever.

People will let you down, but the Lord will never let you down.

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah —Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen

WINSDAY WISDOM Session 208

Our four-year-old granddaughter, Madisyn, said to my wife, “Babe, I love you.”

Vicki asked, “How much do you love me? To a thousand?”

Madi responded with arms outstretched, “No, to infinity and beyond!”

The “infinity, and beyond” phrase originated as a quote in the 1990s animated movie Toy Story. Regardless of the source, it is a powerful and dramatic expression of love or happiness.

How happy are you? What is your largest happiness number? To infinity and beyond?

Are you happy? Why? Why not?

What if your happiness could be described as “to infinity and beyond??

Our search for some Winsday Wisdom about happiness can be found right at the beginning of the #1 Textbook. It reveals things to us about before the beginning and beyond infinity.

God created us as the everlasting expression of His great immeasurable LOVE in order that we might experience the endless inexhaustible ever-increasing enjoyment of His GOODNESS.

God’s revelation of human history is the story of God’s goodness to us.

The Book of Genesis begins with, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…”

Only God is infinite, limitless, beyond boundaries, beyond measure, beyond comprehension. The Lord God, the maker of heaven and earth, repeatedly describes Himself as infinite in power, dominion, and understanding. God is almighty, present-everywhere, knowing-everything (#1Textbook).

The Creator God describes Himself with three metaphorical names in the last verses of the #1 Textbook. “I am the Alpha and the Omega…I am the First and the Last…I am the Beginning and the End.”

The Lord is eternal in existence, nature, and being…from all eternity past to all eternity future. In the beginning of earthly time, God created the heavens and the earth.

The purpose of everything that God created was to display His goodness to mankind. Then God created man to be the expression and enjoyment of His goodness. 

In Genesis, Chapter 2, God created man out of the dust and breathed life into him and placed man in a perfect paradise to enjoy the goodness of God. God related to mankind, one-to-one, face-to-face, and introduced Himself as (1) our LORD GOD, (2) our LIFE-GIVER, and (3) our LOVING PARTNER. 

LORD- -That’s the way God still introduces Himself to us. He’s the Lord. He’s supreme. He’s sovereign, He’s the Creator, He’s the controller of everything, He is first and foremost. He is before everything else and above everything else. He is the Lord.

LIFE-GIVER– God introduced Himself to the first man and to us that He’s also the Life-Giver. He built man as His own handiwork and breathed His life into man.

God is the One who is all the goodness, possesses all the goodness, and can do all the goodness. He wants us, who are nothing and were nothing and have nothing and can do nothing, to be the beneficiary of all His goodness. “For we are God’s masterpeice, created to enjoy and do good” (#1 Textbook).

LOVING PARTNER– Then God introduced Himself as our Loving Partner—that we would be in union with Him—that the one God, the Lord, who created everything, would be in union with man who was nothing. The One who owned everything, the One who could do everything would be in union with the one who owned nothing and could do nothing apart from God. 

God chose to be our Loving Partner for the purpose of giving all that He is and all that He has to mankind so that we might learn to live and love like God.

The Creator God offers us a loving partnership in which the only responsibility for any man or woman is to stay a partner. Nothing else is expected of us except what God has given us to maintain the essence of the partnership: Faith, Hope, and Love.

• God gives us FAITH. The God who has created everything for the expression and the enjoyment of His goodness is forever faithful and true. He promises never to forsake us. Trust the Lord God to stay your Loving Partner.
• God gives us HOPE. God creates and orchestrates all things for our ultimate enjoyment of His immeasurable goodness. God has connected His sovereign Lordship to our everlasting goodness. Live in Hope, the confident expectation of experiencing all the good God has promised…somehow…someway…sometime.
• God gives us LOVE. We can love God and others with the same great love God shows us. Imitate God and walk in love as His loving partner.

The Genesis account teaches us “what” and “how” God does us good. The only “why” is hidden in God’s great love. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us while we were still dead in our transgressions, made us alive with Christ” (#1 Textbook).

God promised to do us good with all His heart, all His soul, all His mind, and all His strength. Even when everything looks dark, God is working for our good in the midst of that darkness. When things look confusing and chaotic, God is still working for our good. Even when we are asleep, God continues to work for our good.

Psalm 16:11 says, “You will show me the path of life, for in Your presence is fullness of joy and pleasures forever.

Every new breath is a new opportunity for a new beginning to walk in life and happiness and goodness, not to dwell on past failure.  The 23^rd Psalm ends, “Surely the Lord’s goodness and mercy pursue me and follow me all the days of my life.” 

That’s reality. Whenever your mind races away with imaginary thoughts that you are not happy or not blessed, something real is going on. God is chasing you down like a hunting dog after its prey. God is pursuing you with greater goodness.

God is our LORD. No one and No thing can delay or stop Him from doing you endless good.

God is our LIFE-GIVER. His gift of endless goodness is as eternal as His gift of life.

God is our LOVING PARTNER. He is forever faithful and true in life, death, and beyond into the eternity of endless goodness.

Here is some Winsday Wisdom. You do not have to try harder to find happiness. Just be more thankful as you enjoy the unearned and undeserved, endless goodness of God.  

Like the waves of the ocean incessantly crashing on the shore, one upon another, so shall the waves of God’s endless goodness come in this life until they sweep you into the next life where it will take endless ages for God to show you His immeasurable, inexhaustible, infinite goodness.

If you focus on your circumstances or unfulfilled wishes, then you will drown in unhappiness. Why not look for God’s happiness headed your way? Check in at the Lost and Found desk.

The waves of God’s happiness will roll into your life in endless succession, everlasting, ever-increasing. 

That is right. Everlasting and ever-increasing in goodness. Everlasting and ever-increasing in your capacity to enjoy. 

The God of extravagant goodness. The God of immeasurable goodness. The God of generous goodness. The God of inexhaustible goodness. The God of endless goodness. 

Every moment and every breath of eternity will be new and fresh with greater enjoyment of more of His goodness. 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time (no matter how much or how long) are not worth comparing with the glory of God’s goodness that is to be revealed to us (#1 Textbook).

EVER-INCREASING HAPPINESS TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!

In a future session, we will consider how we minimize and miss this great happiness in our daily lives. How and why do we seem to lose happiness?

Until then, be thankful the Heavenly Hound of Goodness chased you down and caught you.

Let me conclude with this Winsday Wisdom encouragement:

God created you as the everlasting expression of His great immeasurable LOVE in order that you might experience the endless inexhaustible ever-increasing enjoyment of His GOODNESS…“to infinity and beyond.”

Surely, God’s goodness and mercy pursue you all the days of your life, and you will live in the endless enjoyment of that everlasting, ever-increasing goodness forever and ever.

Enjoy some happiness today.

I love you and God loves you…to infinity and beyond!

WINSDAY WISDOM Session 207

Staring down the face of a gangster’s gun.

These were the times that tried our souls. Join in this story and you will feel my heartbeat from fear to anger to hope and tears of joy. This what love first and love most looks like in real life.

The wild car chase after the grand theft of a pickup was told in the initial episode of C.O.P.S. (CLERGY on PATROL in last Winsday Wisdom, Rainy-Day Car Chase). This is the follow-up to that event.

Something needed to be done to change the tension in the neighborhood as well as protect the church members and their cars.

Our church staff decided to host a large event as an invitation to the neighborhood youth. We canvassed the nearby schools with flyers advertising free pizza and entertainment. Almost four hundred youth showed up for the food. Most were African American. We used the opportunity to invite everyone to visit our basketball gym and game room the next Monday night between 6 to 9 PM. Free popcorn would also be available.

Two hundred came for the next three weeks enjoying the fun and games. They also sat through a 10-to-15-minute Bible devotional in the middle of the evening. We thought we had hit the motherlode as we began to develop interaction with the middle and high school youth.

Surprisingly, the fourth Monday night event was almost empty of youth. About eight kids showed up. The same thing happened the next week, only fewer attended.

As we followed up with some of our new acquaintances, several parents informed us that a few African American church pastors counseled their parishioners to prohibit their youth from attending events at our church. They were concerned for the welfare of the children. Our appeals for reconsideration were graciously refused.

However, new visitors showed up the subsequent Monday evening. We offered a place to play basketball in an air-conditioned building…plus free popcorn. This was the only place in the city for a high-humidity hot summer pick-up basketball game in an air-conditioned environment.

The word quickly spread to their friends…or more accurately, their fellow gang members. Yes, the new participants identified themselves with gangs. These were drug dealers and their distributers. Most of them had quit or been expelled from school. The news of the gang members weekly presence at our gym quickly spread to the local pastors and parents. No one wanted to send their kids into our danger zone. Who could blame them?

By the end of the second month, the only “youth” taking advantage of our open-door invitation were members of the city’s two rival gangs. We welcomed them into our gym. We initially had three rules. No cursing. No sagging (wearing your jeans below your hips). No leaving before the Bible devotional.

We soon had to include another prohibition. No Guns! That’s right. Guns became a problem. The rival gangs shared the basketball court. There were no referees. The violations were self-governed. Arguments delayed the game and eventually cost them court time. We thought we could handle the animosity. Hot-headed basketball players are not limited to gang members, so I had experience in this arena.

Two Monday nights ended with gun battles in the grocery store parking lot across the street. One night an argument broke out inside our gym. A scuffle ensued. As the combatants and the growing crowd moved out the door, a full-fledged fight broke out. Two staff members pushed their way into the middle of the fisticuffs and wrestled to separate the opponents. Tempers flared and our staff yelled orders to stop.

As Derek and Big John held two enraged teenagers apart, another gang member pulled a handgun and pointed it right at Robin, Teresa, and our staff guys. He threatened to shoot. As the crowd slowly backed up, someone shouted that the cops were coming. The police car roared into the middle of the crowd. The gun-toting kid was arrested and placed in the back of the cop car. The policeman told us the teenager would be taken downtown, arrested, and then be home before any of us that night.

The biggest casualty that night was Big John’s new white sneakers. They were a dirty mess! I do not believe Big John has ever gotten over that tragedy.

How much does it take to show someone you love them? We did not give up or ban the gang members. We did invoke a “No Gun” rule. We bought a metal detector for the entrance and hired an off-duty officer to serve as a plain-clothes security guard.

Would the gang members give up their guns or give up their air-conditioned basketball court? They adjusted. They began to hide their guns in the bushes on the way into our gym. They gathered their weapons and sometimes used them on their way back home later that night.

We also made an agreement with the perceived gang leaders. Free use of the gym in exchange for guaranteed protection for our church members and their vehicles. They agreed. We had no more car thefts or threatened families.

What we did have was a continued gang problem that was only a microcosm of the City’s larger issues. During one of the early devotionals about the importance of godly character, I mentioned Jesus’ crucifixion. I witnessed empty stares from the small crowd sitting in the bleachers. It was not the look of disinterest. It was the darkened eyes of young people who had no clue what I was talking about.

I directly asked them if anyone ever heard that Jesus was hung on a cross with nails piercing his hands and feet, a crown of thorns shoved into his head, and a spear thrust into his side. Raise your hand if you ever heard that true story. Only two hands went up.

Two! Two youth among thirty living in the city with the most churches per city capita in all of America. They had never heard the account of Jesus’ life and death and resurrection or His purpose. None of them had ever heard that God loved them with so great a love that He gave His only Son to die in their place so they would not eternally perish but have everlasting love and life.

God help us! God help these young people!

Where is the mission field? Where ungodly people have not heard of the life and love of Jesus. That could be in a distant land. It could also be in one’s own neighborhood.

I told our staff we must go back to the very basics of God’s Word. Only God’s Word gives the power to transform a life. We would teach the #1 Textbook, starting at the beginning where God created the heavens and the earth. Slowly, but surely, we faithfully related the beautiful revelation of God’s life and love to us.

People and books and programs can tell and teach a person how to change things in his/her life.

ONLY GOD’S WORD GIVES THAT PERSON THE POWER TO CHANGE.

That is the same truth for you and your loved ones. Only God’s Word gives the power to change a life.

This next significant moment occurred three weeks following the gun incident.

We knew we had a problem when there were two gangs. Both wanted our gym as their independent turf. I identified Tyrone as a key figure in this struggle. The seventeen-year-old Tyrone was a handsome young man with an athletic build. He looked like a college linebacker. Six feet two inches in height and 180 muscular pounds in weight. He had played football in high school before he was expelled because of gang activity.

Everyone in the gym looked up to Tyrone. He was friendly with me and the staff. He appeared to be interested in the Bible study time.

I had a plan. Another staff member and I invited Tyrone to a presession dinner. I talked to Tyrone about his dreams. I offered to help him get back into school with a spot on the high school football team. That would give him an opportunity to get a free college education. I encouraged him to use his leadership ability to help us control the violent outbursts during the basketball contests.

Tyrone listened respectfully. He promised to help.

An argument broke out early that night before the devotional break time. Things became very heated. Someone shouted several profanities and ordered their comrades to leave immediately. All of a sudden, I saw Tyrone and thirteen other guys headed for the door.

I interrupted their departure with a loud appeal. “Stop! Everyone. Stop! If you walk out now before the Bible time, you will be banned from coming back.”

My heart sank as my blood pressure increased. This was a watershed moment. I did not want to lose these guys. But I could not back down on the rules requiring the participants to stay through the teaching period.

I prayed as I shouted, “Tyrone! Stop these guys. If y’all walk out that door right now, there is no coming back. I beg you, Tyrone, get these guys back into the gym!”

I will never forget what happened next. The crowd of fourteen angry young men stopped in their tracks. A loud, high-pitched squeal filled the room.

“Tyrone is not the leader of this gang. I am.”

I stared in shock at Marcus, five foot two and pushing 120 pounds, if soaking wet. He repeated his announcement, only this time his voice was at an even higher pitch.

I felt like Simon Peter when he was privileged to witness Jesus in all His glory at the Mount of Transfiguration. “He did not know what to say, because he was terrified” (#1 Textbook). But, amazingly, like so many of us in that same situation, that did not stop him from saying something. It did not stop me either.

I did not know how to respond to this gang leader revelation. But I had to say something.

I blurted out, “Well, whoever is the leader of this gang, he better get their bodies back inside that gym door now!”

Marcus stared at me and then at his buddies waiting for his instructions. With the motion of his little hand, he signaled their about face as he shouted in that shrill voice, “Everyone back inside. I said so.”

I could identify with Simon Peter’s follow-up remark to his admission that he did not know what to say. “Well, Lord, I guess it was good for us to be here.”

I found out that Marcus was the unchallenged gang leader and Tyrone was their designated shooter. Tyrone was the hitman who took orders from Marcus. Wow! I really missed that one.

That night I gave the talk of my life. Derek Cox calls it the Moses’ coming down from the mountain talk. “Who is on the Lord’s side?”

Moses threw down the Ten Commandments in front of the ungodly rebels and drew a line in the sand. Then Moses asked, “Who is on the Lord’s side? You have to choose right now” (#1 Textbook).

I was as hot with anger as I was Spirit-filled. (I am not sure how that works and not sure it is even a good combination.)

I drew a line in the sand that night. I declared there would be only two gangs recognized in our gym. God’s gang and the devil’s gang. Any other gangs better choose sides because I was going to chase out the devil’s gang and lock the doors on them. This was it.

Who is on the Lord’s side?

From now on, any arguments on the court would send both teams to the bleachers to sit out two games. It no longer mattered who was right and who was wrong about the correct call. Any disrespect would be treated with immediate ejection. Any talk-back would receive a two-week suspension.

At some point, I segued into my version of the Martin Luther King, Jr. I Have a Dream speech. I began to talk about my dream where black and white youth would play together and sit in Bible study together in perfect harmony. I dreamed of a gym where all kinds of kids from all kinds of backgrounds could find a place of peace from their troubles and discover some people who loved them unconditionally.

This would be a safe place. Every parent could count on that. Every young person would honor that.

I told them this place belonged to God. From now on, it would be called Monday Night Club. Yes. this would be a club where you had to register to be a member and you would be required to sign in to enter.

No one else could visit or join without an invitation from an existing member. No walk-ins. Monday Night Club was open to anyone and everyone, boys and girls, regardless of race or religion. But there would be only one gang. Whoever wanted to come back next week better sign up. We want to know your name, age, and school affiliation, if any.

Everyone would be required to stay for the short Bible talk that can change their lives. No exceptions.

God used one high-pitched voice to remind me only God knows what is inside the heart of any person. My role on God’s team was to love each young person unconditionally.

Our church leadership and members went all in with their hearts and time and prayers.

Teresa became the point guard for our new team. She registered every person who entered Monday Night Club. For thirty years, she knew and remembered each name that went with each face, even to the point of welcoming their future kids into the club. The kids loved her. Through the years, she became the best-known person in the city.

Yes, these were the times that tried our souls. We chose to storm the gates of Hell. This was not for the weak or faint of heart.

The club grew as the neighborhood parents became confident in our sincerity and motives. Gang distinctions were jettisoned. Some of the former gang members were regular participants for many years, until I had to “graduate them with honors” from Monday Night Club.

They cried. I cried.

Our staff would consistently run into familiar faces in new settings from restaurants to school sporting events to places of business to professional athletes. “Do you remember me? I went to Monday Night Club.”

Monday Night Club has new leaders but the same focus. Love First and Love Most…whoever…whenever… Full unconditional acceptance without condemnation…once and for all time.

Jesus lives inside of you to lead you to others He intends to love through you.

That is your life’s mission. The forces of hell are not easily conquered, but we have this assurance: the harder the heart, the more glorious the triumph.

Monday Night Club is a glorious triumph!

The love of Christ gives everyone their value. You are priceless; so is that hard to love person.

You have a challenge. Some people are extremely hard to love. They might be different. They might be defiant. Let them feel your heartbeat.

Do not give up. Never give up! Someday, the trumpet will sound, and God’s gang will gather with one united thunderous shout, “The devil does not run us or this place. Jesus does…From before the beginning of time throughout endless eternity, the Lord God Almighty is King of kings and Lord of lords, now and forever!”

LONELY AND LONGING

You left my heart as empty
As a Monday morning church
It used to be so full of faith
And now it only hurts
And I can hear the devil whisper
“Things are only getting worse”
You left my heart as empty
As a Monday morning church

I still believe in Heaven
And I’m sure you’ve made it there
But as for me without your love,
I don’t have a prayer

You left my heart as empty
As a Monday morning church –Alan Jackson, Monday Morning Church

The passing of a loved one can leave us lonely and longing for their presence. It can be the source of many a Monday Moaning. Their heavenly journey can also leave us loving and longing for that glorious reunion.

Some of you are in that emotional tension right now. Earthly loneliness and glorious hope. You will learn to live with grief and hope. That is what love does.

I do not go out of my way to think about death, even on Monday Moaning. Thoughts of my loved ones’ earthly absence saddens me, but not to the point of Alan Jackson’s song. My heart does not feel as empty as Monday Morning Church. I have trust in God and hope of seeing them again.

My mind will usually pick up the last verse of How Great Thou Art or the chorus of the soul-rocking spiritual, Going Up Yonder. That moment will be sad for us still struggling and suffering in this world. But make no mistake about it, that departure will be glorious beyond imagination for our loved one.

I had a special moment with Dave Foster on his death bed.

Mr. Dave was the owner of the stolen pickup in last Winsday Wisdom’s Car Chase. [Take a good rainy day and check it out if you missed it.]

Dave was a strong man with a sensitive heart. He and his wife of seventy-years, Cleolice, were charter members of the church. The inaugural church service was held in their home. Cleolice served in the “bed babies” nursery for three decades. She was also a legend at playing dominos.

Dave battled dementia in his last years. He would tell me he could not remember most things, but he would never forget the Lord or Cleolice. Then he would break out into an old hymn.

Dave became very ill and was not expected to live much longer. Dave had been in a coma for several days. It so happened that Cleolice needed surgery. They were both in the same hospital, just in separate wings. During my visit, the family all needed to go check on Cleolice. I stayed alone in the hospital room with Dave.

I sat beside Dave’s bed reading some Scriptures out loud. I am not big on watching people pass away, but I do know there is a peace that passes understanding for those who believe in Jesus. Dave’s breathing was extremely shallow and sporadic. Several times, I thought he had stopped breathing.

Suddenly, Dave let out a big gasp. His big blue eyes opened wide as he stared upwards. This was the moment. Dave was about to see Jesus, face to face. I was about to witness that special homecoming.

I whispered, “Do you see the angels coming?…Dave, do you see the angels coming to take you to Heaven?”

Dave kept staring upwards. This man’s eyes had been closed for days. Now they were fixated on Heaven. My heart began to race, and my face was covered with the reflection of Dave’s radiance.

I moved closer to Dave and held his hand. I spoke softly, but slightly louder. “Dave, do you see the Lord and His angels coming to get you?”

Dave began to blink his eyes rapidly, then he fixed them in an upward gaze, in full anticipation of the glorious sighting.

“Do you see the heavenly chariots?”

He blinked several more times, hesitated, and then spoke for the first time in days.

“No… Not really.”

There was awkward silence. I was stunned. Dave could speak. Was Dave blind?

Dave gave a few more blinks. As he continued his intense stare in the heavenly direction, he softly reported, “No… I don’t see anybody coming,”

After a brief pause, he turned and asked, “Why are you here, Preacher? Do you see the chariots?”

How do I respond to that question?

“The heavenly horses got out of the barn, and I wondered if you had seen them around here?“

Apparently, the angelic escort was on hold. Dave lived on this earth for another five years.

What about the angels? They are unseen partners in life now.

God commands his angels to protect you wherever you go. They will steady you with their hands to keep you from stumbling against the rocks on the trail (Psalm 91:11-12).

Will we see them in that last earthy moment?

Jesus said, “When Lazarus died, the angels carried him into heaven” (Luke 16:22).

This is my go-to verse regarding our future. It is especially good for Monday Moaning.

But God being rich in mercy, because of His GREAT LOVE with which He LOVED us, even when we were still (spiritually) dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace alone) and raised us up…and seated us in the heavenly places SO THAT (purpose clause) in the coming ages (endless eternity), God might show us the IMMEASURABLE riches of His grace in kindness TO US in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 2:4-7).

It will take God forever and ever to share with us His immeasurable goodness and everlasting joy, beyond our imagination.

No man or woman has ever seen, heard, or even imagined what wonderful things God has ready for those who love the Lord (1 Corinthians 2:9).

I am praying that you will join me as we keep our eyes on the heavenly horizon but make our days count here and now.

I love you.

I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk by Your side
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When Your face is before me
I can only imagine, yeah

Surrounded by Your glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for You, Jesus
Or in awe of You be still?

Will I stand in Your presence
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing hallelujah?
Will I be able to speak at all?

I can only imagine
I can only imagine

—I Can Only Imagine (Bart Millard, MercyMe)

WINSDAY WISDOM Session 206

“These are the times that try men’s souls.” That was definitely what I was feeling during this Flashback to the past. The late spring morning car chase was one of those times that shaped my life and the life of many others.

Thomas Paine, one of the Founding Fathers of the United States of America, wrote in The American Crisis in 1776: “These are the times that try men’s souls.”

Our times were not about the Revolutionary War nor the signing of the Declaration of Independence. However, this incident did try our souls.

For me and my church staff associates, it was the initial episode of C.O.P.S. (CLERGY on PATROL).

Everyone loves a good car chase.

It was late spring in the year of 1900 something, following my family’s move to the city of Shreveport. I was the new pastor of a church with a leadership vacuum located in a transitional neighborhood. The Louisiana rains had been non-stop for days. The water drainage canals that ran through the neighborhood looked like a rushing river.

As the rain began to increase in intensity, our youngest staff member stepped to the window. Rusty paused and then said there were some kids out in the parking lot near Dave Foster’s pickup. Dave was an older man who was cleaning out the church bus. Suddenly, Rusty yelled, “They are stealing Dave’s truck!”

Three other staff members leaped to the window to witness the Grand Theft Auto scene. I arrived on crutches just a few seconds behind. I was recovering from knee surgery the previous week. By the time I arrived at the window, the guys were sprinting for the door and the parking lot. I was close behind, hobbling on crutches.

As we headed to the parking lot, three juveniles (ages 13-14) jumped into the pickup and headed for the far exit. Big John, Jeff, and Rusty looked like TV police detectives, Starsky and Hutch, as they leaped into John’s pickup and immediately began pursuit of the getaway car.

Our music leader, Steve, ran inside to call the police. As I crawled into the driver’s side of my van, Mr. Dave hopped in. We raced out of the parking lot as the second vehicle in pursuit of the stolen pickup.

The chase was on. Three vehicles traveled high-speed through the narrow streets. Dave’s stolen brown pickup and Big John’s blue pursuit pickup raced through the backside of the neighborhood. It was dangerous, and no thought was given to the stupidity of it all. It was eerily similar to the famous, ill-advised car chase in the movie, The French Connection.

The rain became an epic downpour. The streets were flooded in some spots. After two quick turns, both vehicles sped down the straightaway. The street would end at a dead-end T- intersection. A left or right turn were the only options.

The fleeing pickup was going too fast to negotiate a safe turn. As the under-aged driver tried to turn left, he lost control of the truck. It spun in a complete circle and then continued the hydroplane slide for another 180 degrees. It was now facing directly into the path of Big John’s speeding pickup. There was no time to stop.

The trucks hit head on, smashing the hoods and front glass of both vehicles. In something akin to a miracle, only Jeff was injured in the violent crash. His head slammed against the rear-view mirror, causing a huge knot on his forehead. (It would not be right if I did not mention that some thought the Wizard of Oz Scarecrow had finally received his brain.)

The Three Stooges juvenile thieves jumped from the wreckage. The Keystone C.O.P.S. exited just as quickly. The teenage boys raced down the street next to the flooded canal. The staff was in hot pursuit.

Jeff did not lack courage or speed. He quickly caught the driver of the stolen pickup. Jeff is very fast. He was also trained to be a Dallas police officer before this inaugural event of Clergy on Patrol. Jeff tackled the driver and pinned him in a mud puddle. Jeff mercifully complied with the kid’s pleas to roll out of the water hole.

(Big John noted that the escapee Jeff caught was the slow, chubby little teenager.)

The faster car thieves sprinted away with Rusty in hot pursuit. Big John can move very quickly for a large man, but he was losing ground. That did not deter him.

A passing pickup slowed to ask if anyone needed help. Big John jumped onto the back bumper and yelled for the driver to catch the runaway kids. Big John hanging on a back bumper is comedic enough, especially with his jeans slipping down his backside. “Sagging” was in fashion during that time. This might have been how Big John “cracked” the case.

The whole scene became wilder as the two hoodlums attempted to cross over into a schoolyard. A baseball coach reacted to hearing shouts to stop those boys. The coach had a baseball bat in his hand as he chased the kids back to the other side of the street.

Big John jumped from the back bumper to grab the collar of the second one. It looked like a scene right out of a cowboy western, as the sheriff leaps from his charging horse to wrestle the bad outlaw to the ground.

The frightened teenager pulled free from BJ’s grasp. Rusty arrived just as the escapee tried to jump over the canal. That was a huge mistake. The raging water could have drowned him as it swept him downstream. Rusty ran alongside yelling for the flailing criminal to grab a pipe that ran across the top of the canal. The kid frantically struggled to hold on as he screamed for help.

My pursuit van passed the two wrecked vehicles. We sped around the corner and quickly spotted the car thieves. One on the ground. One in the canal. One still racing to escape.

I put the pedal to the metal with no thought of the dire consequences as I sped past the third runaway. I swerved in front of him, blocking his route of escape. He stopped and surrendered. He placed his hands on his head as if he had done this arrest thing before. He kept yelling, “I give up! I give up!”

Dave and Big John escorted the dejected rain-soaked teenager back to his drenched friend lying near the feet of Jeff’s oversight. Neither was as wet as their third companion flailing about in the canal’s rushing river.

Two down and one drowning. The baseball coach did a courageous highwire act as he crossed the pipe over the canal. He leaned over to offer his bat to the endangered youth. As the kid reached for the Louisville Slugger, the coach lost his balance and now both were headed downstream. The teenager did not let go of the bat, and neither did the coach who bravely pulled both to safety. Rusty used a fallen tree branch to help them to solid ground.

Somewhere amidst the chaos, Steve arrived in his green minivan right before the police. Jeff yelled for him to get a rope or something to save the drowning kid.

Of all the memorable sights, Steve’s appearance remains the most vivid in the minds of all the rain-soaked participants.

There were two wrecked pickups. Pieces of metal and glass along the wet street. Jeff tackling a chubby youngster. Big John riding the back bumper of a passing pickup, with too much showing. A frightened youth jumping into the raging waters of a canal. The heroic attempt of the baseball coach and Rusty’s tree branch. Old Dave walking next to the fourteen-year-old who stole and wrecked Dave’s favorite pickup. I hobbled to help while on crutches.

Everyone was rain-soaked to the max. Criminals and clergy.

All these strange sights paled in comparison to the vision of Steve on a fast-paced stroll to help save the drowning criminal. He carried a green garden hose in his outstretched arm, while fully protected from the pouring rain by his open umbrella.

Who thinks of grabbing an umbrella in times like these that try men’s souls? That’s right, kids! Who shows up with an umbrella in the most trying times to teach lessons about life to dysfunctional young people?

MARY POPPINS! Can you say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?

Steve was unafraid in his pursuit. He was just more prepared than the rest of us. Steve would be dry for the interview by the local television news crew. He just needed a London Fog trench coat to add to his Parisian street-style elegance.

Steve was the only one of us who thought to share the love of Christ with the juveniles in the back seat of the police car. Perhaps he was offering them a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down. It would not have surprised me to see these young, converted choir members singing the Mary Poppin’s classic, Let’s Go Fly a Kite.

This incident began the answer which we were seeking in our staff meeting. How can we show love first and love most to the people, and especially the youth, of this neighborhood?

It would not come as Clergy on Patrol or Freedom Fighters or even Mary Poppins armed with umbrellas. Reflections on the event set in motion opportunities to change the neighborhood and the racial tensions. We developed a plan to change things as they were. Our plans had to be changed several times and then defended more than once.

Most importantly, the rainy-day car chase ignited the beginning of Monday Night Club, an open gym and game room to kids who felt they were not welcomed in our church and never suspected the persons inside really loved them. Monday Night Club has continued for thirty-two years as a divine instrument to love literally thousands of young people.

Yes, these were the times that tried our souls. We chose to storm the gates of Hell. This was not for the weak or faint of heart.

The conflict was hard, much harder than we anticipated. It involved more than a stolen pickup. There were rival gangs, shootouts, and staff staring down the barrel of a gun. The story also includes glorious triumphs where Love First and Love Most conquered forces from Hell. (See next week’s Winsday WIsdom.)

The ultimate triumph of love will surely come in your life as well. It will not and cannot fail, but the victory is never easy…and never without conflict.

“What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated” (Thomas Paine).

The FREEDOM to LOVE FIRST and LOVE MOST has a proper price beyond measure in Heaven’s richest of riches.

How valuable is it to you? What hard conflict are you willing to endure and overcome to prove the celestial worth of real love?

Whatever the relationship, or lack thereof, charge into the fray with a heart unwilling to stop short of victory. That individual is of great value to you and Heaven.

Whatever the cost, walk in love, just as God in Christ has loved us and gave Himself for us (from the #1 Textbook). That life purpose is highly rated in Heaven.

SPEAKING OF HEAVEN AND DAVE FOSTER, please check out the next MONDAY MOANING for a very special death bed story.

Until then, place a heavenly value on that hard to love person in your life and make a positive difference in his/her life this week.

Oh, oh, oh!
Let’s go fly a kite
Up to the highest height!
Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let’s go fly a kite!

—Let’s Go Fly a Kite (from Mary Poppins, song written by Richard and Robert Sherman)