Finding Community at the Holly Bush

We have a monstrosity in our front yard. It’s a twenty-five foot holly bush that is part of the fabric of our neighborhood. “I remember when that tree was planted”, being interpreted, “Don’t you dare cut that bush down or you will have single handedly ruined the neighborhood.” So instead of cutting it down, we have instead embraced our holly bush over the last year. It’s a beautiful Christmas ornament, gives us some privacy, is a sanctuary for birds and provides a land mark for someone finding the house. “Just look for the super-sized holly bush.” People still miss it. No one can believe a bush is so big.

Over the last couple of years it has gotten unruly so this summer I took on the task of conquering it. With my manly electronic hedge trimmer in hand I attacked it with reckless abandon starting with the bottom ring. Then I steadily worked upward until I was reaching as high as possible perched on an aluminum ladder. My dear wife provided support below while shouting instructions up to me. “You missed some to your right.” “It needs trimming at knee level.” “That looks good.” Over three days we maneuvered around and around the holly bush but lacked the height need to reach the very top. It took on the look of a spiked haircut – very trendy, very modern, very artsy.

What we didn’t realize was that the trimming of the Holley bush had become a community fascination and sensation. Our professional logger neighbor good naturedly “encouraged” us from across the street. Then he came over to offer us his ladder. The next door neighbor commented with a chuckle in his voice, “I think you missed some on top.” Other neighbors were full of comments. “I can’t believe you trimmed that on your own” and “I kept looking out the window to make sure you hadn’t fallen off” and “Our landscaper said there was no way he would trim that tree without a cherry picker.” Even former neighbors got into the act, “I drove by earlier. It looked like you were doing a high wire act.”

The neighborhood is becoming community in other ways too. Dan brought over his front end loader to move some dirt, insisted Maria operate it and then spread the top soil in our garden. Our Nepalese neighbors came bearing a gift of yogurt stirred into ice water and a soil scientist came over to analyze the garden.

Interesting…amazing how just living life together begins to create neighborliness and community. Wonder if there’s an insight for us as the Body of Christ? Oh by the way, the spiked hair did get trimmed. A firefighter friend brought over his thirty-two foot ladder. More community at the Holly bush.

The Story Box: First Steps of Trust

(I introduced the Story Box a while ago. Over the coming months I hope to encourage your faith by sharing some of the stories that come out of this little box.)

This key is a reminder of our first steps in moving out of our comfort zone in matters of trusting God.

Our philosophy with cars has always been to drive them until they die. The Buick we owned did just that. When it broke down again for the umpteenth time, I left it in the parking lot of a Baptist Church never to return for it. (A friend towed it away for us weeks later.) We didn’t realize at the time but that broken down car was an inciting incident to move us out of our comfort zone Christianity and into our first steps of greater trust.

I remember we had a little bit of money in the bank for the purchase of a used vehicle, but it wasn’t near enough to buy anything close to a road worthy vehicle. At the time someone had given us a few days of their time share in Williamsburg, and other friends had given us the use of a car for the trip. It was one of our first and best vacations. Indoor swimming every evening, historic Williamsburg, the Jamestown area, and playing in the Atlantic on November 1st highlighted the trip.

We returned to real life still needing a car. Visiting area dealerships, searching the classifieds and buying Mountain Trader papers turned up nothing. Days turned into weeks, and one loaned car was turned in for another. At that point we felt certain of two things – we shouldn’t go into debt for the purchase and “Jehovah Jireh” (the Lord will provide). Those two things would be tested over the coming weeks as expectations from others mounted.

A close friend had a nephew working at the Honda dealership and as I recall he encouraged us to go in and “talk to Wayne.” We had priced Hondas already and knew that even a used one was well out of our price range, but one day I stopped by anyway and asked for Wayne. I told him our story and of Jehovah Jireh.

He pointed out a white Dodge Caravan that had recently been traded in…it was still out of our range. Later Diana and I went back to look at it together and felt confident this was the van for us. We prayed, we waited, we resolved not to go into debt, we believed, we re-evaluated our finances. Some extra money had begun to trickle in for the purchase of a vehicle.

I went back to Wayne at the dealership. “I can offer you $1000 dollars less than your asking price.” “I would really like to do that for you” he replied, “but I can’t.” I returned home wondering how much longer it would be on the lot before someone purchased it but not defeated. A few days later we received a gracious gift that pushed us over the top. I called Wayne nervous with excitement to tell him the news. “Jehovah Jireh” were my first words.

Diana and I have often pointed back to the purchase of that van as our first foray into a deeper level of trusting God. Eventually it led into trusting Him for missions support. And daily provisions for two years. Then to trusting Him for living in a foreign culture. Trusting for a home when we returned. Trusting Him to direct our children. Trusting for a job. Trusting for the future. Then trusting for a flow of grace and love to come into our lives and go out to others. And just to think that He used a broken down old car to lead us into this extraordinary journey.

Old Guys Rule: Ramblings At 50

I figured why not enter the fifties with a bang and throw a big memorable party. I mean every good story has memorable scenes doesn’t it? And we tend to love those the most with whom we have a story. Diana baked eight cakes and made gallons of tea and lemonade. The rain held off, the yard filled up, and we talked and laughed together into the night. It was an event that drew us into community.

Special friends came together to form a Birthday Band. It was a fantastic band that included three guitars, two mandolins, banjo, djembe and congas. They played some of my old favorites like Arise My Soul Arise, Sawmill and In Christ. Here’s the chorus for that one: In Christ I am adopted as a child of the Living God; In Christ I take refuge in the blood. In Christ Your Holy Spirit comes and makes His home in me; and sets my captive spirit free to the praise of Your glory.

I love cards that have good words, a nice texture and creative art. A lot came my way, some reflective and some funny. Like this one, “Don’t worry 50 is just a number…and the Titanic was just a boat, and World War II was just a misunderstanding, and Chernobyl was just a few leaky pipe…Just Kidding.” And “If you have a complete set of salad bowls and they all say Cool Whip on the side of them, you might be a redneck. Have a hootin’ and hollerin’ happy birthday.”

The biggest surprise of the day came in the way of a phone call. As most of you know I have been applying and interviewing for jobs over the last few months without success. It was a gift to receive a call that I got the job working as an advocate for the disabled to area businesses. I start on August 1st. Yahoo!

Late that night after everyone had left I Facebooked, “This has been one of the best days of my life.” Someone responded, “A friend told me years back...‘You are going to love middle age.’ She was right. I say the same to you.” I hope so. I really want to grow into each phase of life with a glimmer in my eye and a cheerfulness that’s infectious – living life robustly, fully, contentedly, abundantly.

Appreciation Repetition

I’m so glad to be beyond the crackling, scratching, jumping era of vinyl records (I’m well aware of dating myself about half a century having witnessed the record, 8 track, cassette, CD, MP3 evolution). The worst was the deep scratch that caused the needle to jump out of the groove, repeating the same section over and over and over again. A couple of coins or a little thumb pressure on the arm was the only hope of quieting this annoyance.

I’m feeling a bit like one of those annoying scratched up records by writing about appreciation again but am none-the-less compelled to reflect on it one last time. I could lie that I have much more to say, but in reality I need to have the appreciation mindset branded into my own brain.

Our generation seems to be addicted to the “latest”. As Americans we take a great deal of pride in having the newest, the best, the latest. We want the latest and best phone, computer app, fashion, brand, cereal, tool, and model. In some ways it’s good. It keeps us creative, forward thinking and learning. But in other ways it makes us materialistic and dissatisfied.

In the swirl of accumulation are we losing our ability to appreciate and wonder? When we do, a beautiful sunset becomes just another sunset. Just another daisy. Just another starry sky. Just another gentle wind. Just another snow flake.

God established the repetitiveness of nature – the continual cycle of seasons, consistent night stars and the constant crashing of waves. We get to enter in and appreciate it all. Like a child who is thrilled by an activity and yells, “Do it again!” Children have the ability to re-enter an experience and enjoy it all over again. Could it be that sunrises aren’t just the same old same old, but instead are God’s way of “doing it again?” Maybe the simple, the repetitive really gives us the opportunity to stop and appreciate the wonder of our God in it all.

Independence Day Celebrated - A Photo Journal

It Was a Blue Day for Christina

Horse Ride at Pipestem State Park

West Virginia Cookout with D-Lux Grill

Ain’t Nothin Better Then Korn and Big Dawgs

The Fast and Furious World of Dutch Blitz

Hanging Out with Friends at the Fire Tower

The Band Struck Up Proud to Be an American

The Work of Pyromaniac Neighbors

The "Rocket's Red Glare, the Bombs Bursting in Air"

For the Land of the Free: We Give Thanks