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What are your plans for the Fourth? Hot dogs? Gathering with friends? Time at the pool? Fireworks? This Fourth of July weekend should be an exciting time as more people are vaccinated and eager to get together for a fun time with friends.  Growing up just north of Atlanta, the Peachtree Road Race was synonymous with this annual holiday for me. My dad faithfully ran the July 4th race for decades, and I made the early morning trek down to Lenox Square to make the run to Piedmont Park a few times too. Later in the afternoon, I remember dad lighting the charcoal grill as mom finished forming the hamburger patties and opening a package of hot dogs. Like most holidays, we tend to get so focused on current happenings and the fun time of being with friends that we fail to reflect on the purpose for the holiday.  On this 245th celebration of the Declaration of Independence, here are a few thoughts to ponder...

With the celebration of Father’s Day this past Sunday, I reflected back on thirty years ago when I first became a father. While I didn’t panic at the thought of raising this newborn, I did wonder quite often if I was saying and doing the right thing.   I had a similar feeling years earlier when I conducted my first wedding at the age of twenty-two.  After it was over, I thought, “Did I say the right words? Is this couple legally married?” Happy to report that after thirty-eight years, their marriage is still going strong. After thirty years of parenting, the same can be said of our children. Somehow Leigh Anne and I brought three children into this world, and each of them is successfully carving out their adult journey.

Several weeks ago, I had minor surgery.  I now understand the saying, “it’s only minor surgery when it’s happening to someone else.”  While this surgical procedure meant I would be off my feet for a few days, the surgeon said I’d be good to go in five days.  In five days, I was horizontal, in pain, and unable to go about my daily routine. Two weeks later, I was no better and experiencing other complications.   As a pastor, I’m used to being the caregiver.  I’m the one who asks, “What can I do for you?  How can I help?” I’m the one who visits others in hospitals and nursing homes. I’ve been in this caregiving profession since I was twenty.  After my surgery, I had to learn to be a care receiver. Here’s a few lessons I learned from being on the other side of the caring process.

Is there anything better than a wedding celebration? Especially a wedding celebration post-Covid? This past Saturday, I had the privilege and honor of conducting the wedding of my son, Stephen, and his fiancé, Abby. After the wedding ceremony, so much of the talk focused on how you could tell this bride and groom really loved each other. You could tell it in their eyes, in the gestures they made, and in the tender words they spoke. There was no question; this couple was ready to be married and share their lives together.  As I reflected on all the comments, I realized weddings can be a great time for vow renewal and love rekindling. Rather than just watching the ceremony quickly go by, pay attention to the authentic expressions of love shared between the bride and groom, listen to the words they say to one another, and capture their excitement to begin this new chapter of life.

Did you run out of gas last week? My wife called me from Toccoa last Tuesday as she was coming home from work.  The gas warning light had just come on in her car, and she could not find a gas station that had gas. I began calculating how far she should be able to drive before she would run out of gas. Fortunately, as she got near Gainesville, she found a QuikTrip with gas. Later that evening I decided I’d better fill up my car.  To my surprise, all three of our nearby gas stations were out of gas. What a weird feeling to pull into a gas station and see signs that read, “No Gas.” As I drove back to my house, I reflected on the thoughts and feelings I was experiencing: frustration, helplessness, no control, anxiety, and worry. As I pulled in my driveway, I realized that these thoughts and feelings were the same ones I had heard voiced to me by men and women I’ve met on my mission travels...

Do you wake up to the sounds of an alarm clock yelling at you to get out of the bed, or does your body’s internal clock wake you up in the morning? Do you hit the snooze button, begging for ten more minutes of sleep, or do you bounce out of bed ready to take on the day? I had a college roommate who made out his minute-by-minute schedule for the next day before he went to sleep at night. He envisioned himself waking up at 5:30, brushing his teeth at 5:31, fully clothed by 5:32, and starting an hour of bible study at 5:33.  Of course, the next morning when his alarm clock sounded (for all of Auburn, Alabama to hear), he hit the snooze and rolled back over.  This routine continued every ten minutes for the next hour.  Needless to say, by the third day, I wanted to toss him and his alarm clock to Tuscaloosa! We all have our different ways in which we start the day. Some of us are slow to wake up, needing three to four cups of coffee before we mutter our first words, while others seem to wake up fully caffeinated with multisyllable words flowing continuously from their mouths for all to hear.

Rudyard Kipling wrote, "God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers." If we could take a quick trip around our community today, we would see mothers accompanying their children to school, baseball games, dance practices, gymnastics, soccer games, school plays, and concerts. Mothers give time to washing clothes, preparing meals, providing resources for a science project, proofing an essay assignment, and correcting math problems. Several moms would be nursing sick children while others drive to urgent care with a child to mend a broken arm or leg. Some moms would be consoling children who experienced disappointment from not winning a competition or just had a fight with their best friend. I’m sure before the sunset, we would observe thousands of other activities completed by moms in a single day. Comedian Milton Berle once joked, "If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?"  Better than any juggler, moms manage multiple tasks and often multiple children on a daily, or shall we say a minute-by-minute, basis. In addition to effectively completing the task, they do so with a heart that conveys a nurturing love which instills confidence and kindness into each child.

Have you tried learning a new skill lately?Recently we purchased a new piano. My wife took piano lessons as a child and has played off and on throughout her adult years.  When we first started dating, she played at the nursing home while I led the music and preached. Fun date, right? These past couple of weeks, I’ve enjoyed listening to her learn new songs along with playing old hymns and piano classics.  For me, the piano is more of a piece of furniture than a musical instrument.  Growing up, I was more interested in football and baseball and never learned how to read music, much less how to play the piano. When no one is around, I’ll sit down and bang on the keys. I have no idea the note each key plays, so you can imagine the cacophony of noise that fills the room. When Leigh Anne plays, our two Havanese dogs sit quietly underneath the piano as if soothed by the music. When I get anywhere near the piano, they quickly dash to their rooms wishing they could close the door and stuff plugs in their ears.

These past couple of weeks, I found myself repeatedly sneezing and grabbing tissues from the Kleenex box. I don’t remember always having such a reaction to the pollen. It probably doesn’t help that I’ve spent a couple of afternoons wiping a coating of green dust off my backyard patio furniture. Sneezing is one of those uncontrollable acts that we all wish we could limit to times when we are alone or at least only around those who love us most. Sometimes you know the sneeze is coming and you can prepare… a little.  But most of the time, the sneeze monster jumps on you before you have time to grab a Kleenex or find a private place so no one will hear you. And what’s even worse? Sneezing in public with your mask on.  

Do you remember when someone wanted to celebrate an accomplishment with you, and they approached you with their hand raised high and palm directed at you?  You raised your hand, and both of you connected palms for a brief moment. That moment of connection was more than a slap of the palms; a shared spirit of approval and affirmation was captured. While giving a high five happens often with athletes celebrating a score or an outstanding play, this celebratory act is shared outside the sports world too.  Investment brokers high five after a stock market rally, students high five after their science project wins best in state. And parents high five their child who just mastered riding a bike without training wheels.

This past Sunday, Christians around the world celebrated the resurrection of Jesus.  Easter Sunday is the Super Bowl for the church. A lot of planning, energy, and resources go into making this day special for all who gather. After worship, most of Easter Sunday afternoon is spent with family and friends sharing a meal, having several engaging conversations, and looking for a few hidden easter eggs. As a kid, I recall all the Easters at my grandma’s along with my cousins.  My grandma prepared a spread of ham, chicken, dressing, and potato salad.  Following dinner, the adults circled up in lawn chairs in the front yard while we kids ran crazy looking for plastic colored eggs hidden in bushes, under rocks, and one or two money eggs tucked into my uncle Sonny’s baseball cap under his chair. But isn’t Easter Resurrection supposed to be more?

March madness is here! Last year, the only madness we experienced in March had to do with Covid: hospital patient count was surging and restaurants, bars, movie theaters, and churches were shutting down. Caught in the crosshairs of the pandemic, college basketball’s annual tournament was canceled.  I didn’t realize how much joy and excitement I would have this March to see college kids once again dart up and down the basketball court shooting three pointers, blocking layups, and swishing the winning basket in the closing seconds of the game. After playing a regular season that began back in November, these top teams now enter into a dash to the championship finish line. While watching several of the games this past weekend, I realized how this sixty-eight team, single-elimination tournament offers us life lessons as it captures life’s ups and downs along with all the emotions.

Are you wearing green today?  Have you pinched someone for not wearing green?  Any luck looking for the leprechaun’s pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? How about your menu for today - does it include corn beef and potatoes? For dessert you can add a Key Lime Pie from Publix where they have tinted the whip cream green for this special day. While most of us associate Saint Patrick’s Day with wearing green and having a parade or party, did you know that the reason for celebrating this man’s life was because of his missionary efforts?

“Quick, hide!” I said to my little brother as we heard mom pull up the driveway.  We had convinced her we were old enough at the ages of ten and seven to stay at home while she made a speedy trip to the Stop-N-Go up the street.  Once she left, we enjoyed our newfound freedom by running into the den and celebrating by jumping up and down on the sofa. With the pillows on the sofa bouncing in the air from our jumping, the natural progression moved to throwing the pillows at one another as our den became a fun-filled battleground. I don’t remember who threw the pillow that hit the lamp, but I can still see it crashing to the floor. And then, I heard the sound of mom’s car pulling into the carport. I look back on that incident and realize how foolish we were in thinking that hiding was going to keep us from facing the consequences of our actions.  Did we really think that mom would never find us or the broken lamp on the den floor? I’m sure I was not thinking long term at that moment. 

Have you ever thought, “How can I see life one way and others see it completely different?”  Or even more specifically, “How can professing Christians have such opposing thoughts and viewpoints?”  Christians line up on opposite sides and across the spectrum when it comes to current issues such as Covid-19, the vaccine, climate change, gender equality, LGBTQ, abortion, and capital punishment. Have some brothers and sisters in the faith been swayed incorrectly by the media, politicians, or preachers? In the New Testament, the Gospel of Mark records a fascinating report of Jesus healing a blind man.  As you recall, Jesus is often seen as a miracle worker as he makes the lame to walk, the dumb to speak, and the blind to see.  In this account, friends bring this grown blind man to Jesus in hopes that he will receive a miracle.  Jesus leads the man out of the stir of the village crowd to the quiet countryside. Once there, Jesus touches the man’s eyes, an act he had done numerous other times to bring sight to the blind.  He then asked the man, “Do you see anything?”   Now imagine that your world has been completely dark until Jesus touches your eyes.  You open your eyes and now there is light. You see people, but they look more like trees than individuals with distinct features. At this point, how do you respond to Jesus’ question? Do you dare risk upsetting this miracle healer by telling him that his touch only partially did the job? So what if you can’t see everything clearly, at least you are no longer walking in a dark abyss? And how do you know that your vision is not complete; maybe everyone sees this way?

Do you like your name? Most of us did not get to choose our name.  It was given to us by our parents. Some of us have shifted from the formal name we were given at birth to a shorter version or to a nickname that we picked up in childhood or teenage years. I only ever heard my full first and middle name, Michael James, when I was being scolded by my mom.  Other than my mom, my wife is about the only other person who calls me Michael anymore. As usually happens with the name Michael, Mike became the shorter version used by friends.  For some people, their friends gave them a name that stuck, yet in no way resembled their given name.   For example, I have friends who go by nicknames such as “Scooter,” “Red,” and “Peewee.”  With my first granddaughter being born this past December, I’ve taken the name “Sparky” to be called by her and future grandchildren.

Did you ever send your child to time out? I recall times when we told one of our children to go to their room or over to the corner of the family room and sit in time out. Time out was a way of pulling them out of the misbehavior they were presently exhibiting and giving them a few moments to think about their actions. Have you ever wished you could send adults to time out? Have there been occasions when you know you probably should find a chair and go sit in time out yourself? This Wednesday, February 17, is Ash Wednesday on the Christian calendar.  I like to look at Ash Wednesday and Lent as an opportunity for a self-imposed time out.  I didn’t grow up observing this tradition, but over the years, this season before Easter celebration has become a meaningful time. 

Valentine’s Day is drawing near.  Do you remember giving Valentine cards in elementary school?  Rather than giving one card to your chosen valentine, you were tasked with giving a Valentine card to every person in your class.  And to hold all those cards, we were all assigned to make a Valentine box. With an old shoe box provided by mom or dad, we taped the lid on, and then covered it with red or pink construction paper and heart shaped paper doilies.  The more artistic classmates showed off their creativity by adding colorful paper flowers and bow-tied ribbons.  For me, most of my “creative time” was spent wiping the Elmer’s glue off the table and attempting to peel it from my fingers. The most important feature of the box, however, was the cut slit in the center of the box providing an opening to receive all the cards.   At home, we wrote the classmate’s name on the small white envelope and stuffed it with a few heart shaped conversation candies along with the card.  The candies were imprinted with an innocent saying such as “Be Mine,” “Kiss Me,” or “I Love You.”  The three to four inch colorful cards had artistic images with silly sayings to match the image. Do you remember any of these cards? 

Super Bowl Sunday is here again!   Unlike last year’s Super Bowl where we naively thought our world would remain the same as a virus, labeled Covid-19, began to get a little attention, this Super Bowl will remind us what has transpired over these past twelve months. Rather than a packed stadium at game time and parties held in homes and sports bars throughout our nation, the Tampa Bay stadium will be limited to 22,000 fans, and parties will be reduced to individual families or couples. In the past years, I’ve gathered with friends to enjoy snacks and laughter, and watch ridiculously expensive commercials with singing frogs or the iconic Clydesdale horses.  The first half of the game served as a prelude for the halftime show.  After the Janet Jackson mishap, most of us tuned in to the performance anticipating another wardrobe malfunction. By the end of the third quarter, most of us had seen enough football and heard more than enough commentating.  Unless the game was a nail biter, we usually called it a night and decided we could wait until morning to see the final score. This year’s game pits a 43-year-fold quarterback making his 10th appearance in the big game against a 25-year-old quarterback who could probably do three back somersaults before throwing a touchdown pass to his tight end.  This year, however, I’m not setting my DVR to watch one of the future Hall of Fame quarterbacks or even catch some crazy advertisement. Yes, I’ll watch most of the game and even catch a few of the commercials, but my primary attention will be on a poet who will speak before the game.  

Do you wake up some mornings feeling like the Tin Man?  Your alarm clock tells you it’s time to hop out of the bed and start your day, but your body doesn’t want to move. The older I get, the more experiences I have where my body is not as eager to go as my mind.  My back and legs cry out for a shot of oil to loosen the muscles and ease the joints.  Fortunately, a morning routine of stretching and exercising helps me get on with my day. While most of the time we associate stiffness to our bodies, this same descriptor can highlight how we are emotionally or spiritually.  We’ve all known people that come across as rigid or inflexible. We usually say these people are “set in their ways.”  They are unwilling to hear new ideas or try new experiences.  Similarly, the Bible speaks of people having a hardened heart or a stiff neck. These people are noted for being so obstinate that they are not open to God working in their lives.   I decided this morning that if I’m determined to physically stretch and exercise to help my body be more flexible, I should also consider stretching my heart and mind each day to be receptive to God. Here’s a few spiritual exercises that may help us live with more zest throughout the day.