Finishing Strong: Ted Williams and the Apostle Paul
December 31 New Year’s Eve Finishing Strong “If it’s worth doing, it is worth doing right—especially if it is for God!” Ted Williams is generally considered the greatest hitter in the history of major league baseball. Two events from his career speak about the concept of “finishing strong.” In 1941, Williams entered the last day of the season with a batting average of .3995. This would qualify him for a rounded off average of .400 and make him the first hitter in seventeen years to achieve that mark. His team, the Boston Red Sox, had a meaningless doubleheader that day, and by sitting out these two games, Williams could end the year at .400. However that wasn’t the Ted Williams way. He played in both games, and when the dust had settled, he’d gotten 5 hits in 7 at bats to finish with an average of .406. No one has hit above the .400 level in the seventy years since 1941. # # # Ted Williams retired at the end of the 1960 season at the age of forty-two. In his last at bat in the final game of the year, he hit a home run. Old news footage shows Williams rounding the bases with a skip in his step and joy on his face. He hit a home run in his last at bat. That’s finishing strong. Finishing strong. We’re remembered not by how we started, but how we finish. Like Ted Williams, the Apostle Paul was a man of passion. He had an unyielding love for the Lord Jesus. In many of his writings, he expresses a strong desire to finish the work assigned to him by God. Paul understood that how we finish is how we are remembered. Living in a day where his listeners understood about athletes, he compared it to striving to finish the race and win the prize. The first runner out of the blocks isn’t always remembered. It’s the one who finishes first. Paul’s words speak to this: “But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy . . . ” (Acts 20:24). # # # P.S. One of my favorite anecdotes involves a baseball discussion: “What do you think Ted Williams would hit if he were playing against today’s pitchers?” “Well, he’d be about ninety-four years old, so I don’t expect he’d do too well.”
Bah Humbug Week Day 6
Moving Out Among my many callings is “Turtle Rescuer.” I snatch them off the highway, mark them with the date (on their shell) and turn them loose. December 30 Ready to Move Out A few summers ago, DeDe, our youngest son Terry, and I took part in a youth camp in the Black Hills of South Dakota. This area of majestic mountains, covered with vast stands of tall Ponderosa Pines, is one of my favorite places in America. To get to camp, we drove deeper and deeper into the Hills following a long snaking dirt road called Pasa Sapa Road (the Sioux name for the Black Hills). Upon arriving at Kamp Kinship, we were greeted by the friendly staff and soon made ourselves right at home. One of the first things the Camp Director did was to instruct all drivers to park their vehicles outside the front gate. They were shown how to park in lines with the vehicles pointed out toward Pasa Sapa Road. My inquisitiveness at this was answered by one of the local men. “Up here in the Hills a wild fire can spread quickly. During the hot summer season, dry lightning storms rake across this area. One lightning strike in these dry hills can spark a spreading dangerous inferno that destroys everything in its path.” He nodded at the carefully parked cars. “We’re ready to move out at a moment’s notice. If you hear the camp bell ringing non-stop, it’s the signal to load up and evacuate immediately. Don’t even go back to your cabin.” This plan of “Being ready to move out” made an impression on me, especially later in the week. Wednesday evening, we had a wonderful worship service of singing and sharing. In the distant northwestern sky over the mountain, bright flashes of lightning split the sky one after another. My friend Stan said, “That storm’s coming from Wyoming. This is just the type that sets off fires in the mountains.” About midnight the storm roared over the camp. There was no rain but plenty of howling wind, and bolts of lightning, and booming thunder. Fortunately, no fires were ignited near Kamp Kinship. Only later did we learn that several fires erupted at different locations in the Black Hills. Later that weekend we traveled into Wyoming to Devil’s Tower and saw a huge wildfire that had been burning since the Wednesday night lightning storm. Parking the vehicles pointed out at camp “ready to move out” gave me several thoughts about being ready. Here are a few: Being ready to live. If only we would daily decide to live as if this was our last chance to suck in oxygen and see the sunset. Man, I want to be “ready to move out” and attack life with passion and joy. Being ready to die. “No man is ready to live who is not ready to die.” No one gets up in the morning and says, “Well, I believe I’ll probably go out and die today.” Deep down inside, we humans all secretly believe we’ll be the one exception to the rule and live forever. One time after the sudden death of a young person in Dry Creek, a wise man told me, “When you put your shoes on in the morning, you don’t ever know who’ll be taking them off you.” “Living, ready to die” for me entails living in a personal relationship with Jesus. He is my Rock, Friend, Savior, Confidant, and Guide. I’ve trusted Him for every aspect of my life, including my eternal destination. I can confidently face life and death knowing He is holding not only my hand, but also my destiny. Living, ready to die also includes keeping a short account in my relationships with those around me. I choose not to let hurt feelings or a bad experience keep me from being in touch with others. If there is a problem, I go to them. As needed, I apologize and seek to make things right. That is a part of living joyfully and with gratitude. I’m pointing the vehicle of my life so I can be ready to go … or content to stay. Many of you have heard me speak of Brett Thornton who has a tattoo on each arm. One arm says, “R 2 G,” and the other, “C 2 S.” These tattoos sum up his life mission: “Ready to Go, Content to Stay.” It is an attitude of readiness to go where God leads: ready to jump in the vehicle and spin out if the bell of God’s Holy Spirit rings out. At the same time, it means possessing a quiet peace that we can trust God if our instructions are to stay put and dig deeper right where we are. Ready to live. Ready to die. Ready to go . . . content to stay. Always ready to move out when needed. Moving up . . . and moving out.
Bah Humbug Week Continues: Day 4
December 29 Sharp Hooks Reas Weeks was a Dry Creek legend who lived and died before my time. He was a bachelor who lived in a remote area along Bundick Creek. He never owned a vehicle or held a regular job. He supported himself by fishing, hunting, and farming. He was known as the best creek fisherman in our area. My dad told the story from his childhood of the school bus picking Reas Weeks up. Mr. Reas flopped a forty-pound catfish on the bench by my dad. He was going to the general store to sell it. Mr. Jay Miller, a neighbor to Reas Weeks, shared another story: “I was always amazed at how Reas caught the largest catfish in Bundick Creek. No one else came close in size or quantity. One day I asked him how he did this. “He led me to his barn and pulled out a large bucket with his hooks and lines carefully wrapped around it. He took a whet rock out of his overalls and began sharpening a hook. ‘Jay, if you’re gonna catch the big ones, you’ve gotta keep your hooks sharp. Those big catfish have tough mouths. A dull hook won’t set, but a sharp one will.’” It’s a good story with a spiritual message: Jesus has called us to be “fishers of men.” If we are going to effectively reach others, our hook had better be sharp. In my life I’ve found that this is only done by spending time with Jesus. As we study His word, the Bible, and fellowship with God in prayer, our lives will be sharpened for His use. Yes, I never knew Reas Weeks . . . but one of his legacies is this story that I’ve shared dozens of times. Wise words on sharp hooks from an old country fisherman. Thanks, Mr. Reas.
Bah Humbug Week: Day 3
Here is today’s story from Christmas Jelly: December 28 The 100-Foot Line There’s a fine stand of young slash pines at Dead Man’s curve on the Longville Road. I’ve watched the growth of this forest since it was clear cut, then replanted in straight rows. The following year, the pines began to poke their heads above the grass. They’ve emerged above the surrounding bushes and scrub trees. In the coming years, they’ll link canopies, drop their pine straw, and completely wipe out the other growth in this field … …If a woods fire doesn’t kill them first. I’ve been inspecting the fire lane plowed around these pines. With the approach of winter and its accompanying grass-killing frosts, having good fire lines is essential to protecting the young trees. Woods fires often occur when a cold front and its accompanying north wind dry out the ground and grass. There is a long tradition of burning the woods among the folks here in western Louisiana’s “No Man’s Land.’’ It began with the early cattlemen and sheepherders burning off the dead grass, believing that new fresh grass was better for their livestock. Our native longleaf pines can survive most woods fires, but due to their slow growth, they’ve been replaced by newer species. The reforestation of Louisiana in the last eighty years has been with faster-growing loblolly and slash pines. The trade-off is that these species cannot survive a hot woods fire. There’s nothing sadder than a field of burnt dead pines, meaning a loss of trees and habitat from a fire. For years, Southwestern Louisiana led the entire state in woods arson. The old settlers still believed it was their right to burn the woods. Feuds over hunting leases or grudges led to “revenge fires.” Sometimes the fires were accidentally set and spread by a strong wind and low humidity. Regardless of the source, our two most common species of pines are exceptionally vulnerable to fire. I always worry over fields like the slash pines on the Longville Road. Once tall enough, they can withstand most fires. For the first five years or more, a hot fire will often destroy an entire stand. That’s why wise forest owners will plow a second inner “hundred-foot line.” This is insurance against the arsonist who tosses matches across the outer fire lane. This can stop the fire before it spreads to the entire pine plantation. It provides insurance for the larger part of the field. I see a spiritual and mental component to the hundred-foot line. In our busy lives, we need this guardrail of space and protection for our minds and souls. This fire lane, or margin, gives us boundaries and space to breathe. It allows us to control the raging fires that can burn in our lives. I know all about that—I’ve had some hot fires in my own heart—usually self-inflicted. How do we plow those hundred-foot lines? Here are two ideas: Be still. I love the words of the shepherd David in Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God.” It’s both a promise and a commandment. Taking time to be still, get quiet, pray, and meditate help us as well as protect us. We must build solitude and silence into our lives and guard a time and place for them. Get outdoors. Wendell Berry made this statement, “The Bible was written to be read outdoors.” There is something about being in nature: a clear blue sky, the wind in the pines, an owl’s call, and a star-filled winter sky with a fingernail moon. Get outdoors. There’s something about being outside that is good for the inside of a man. Be sure your hundred-foot fire lanes are in order. It’s a lot easier to plow lines than replant pines. # # # Last week, I posted a story about Ed and Kat King. Enjoy this additional snippet from Christmas Jelly as well as a favorite recipe of Mrs. Kat King. I have so many fond memories of Ed and Kat King. They lived the Christian life in front of me—at church as well as at their dairy and the post office where Mrs. Kat worked. I sat on the floor in their living room on a hot July night in 1969 as we watched man first step on the moon. “One small step for man. . . .” I’m thankful for folks like the Kings who served as spiritual and surrogate parents in my life. For me Dry Creek was a huge extended family of kin, friends, and neighbors. Listen to an audio version of my story on Ed and Kat King: 17 Sermon in the Hayfield Banana Nut Cake Kat King 2 ¼ c cake flour 1 2/3 c sugar 1 ¼ t baking powder 1 ¼ t baking soda ½ t salt 2/3 c shortening 2/3 c buttermilk 3 eggs 1 ¼ c mashed banana 2/3 c finely chopped nuts Heat oven to 350º. Grease and flour oblong pan or 2 round 9-inch pans. Measure all ingredients into large mixing bowl. Blend ½ minute on low speed, scraping bowl continually. Beat 3 minutes at high speed, scraping bowl occasionally. Pour into pan(s). Bake oblong 45 minutes. Bake layers 35–40 minutes or until wooden pick comes out clean when inserted in center. I use butter cream frosting with finely chopped pecans added to it. Any fluffy white frosting would do as well.
Bah Humbug Week: Day 2
Bah Humbug week continues December 27 “Master” A man can have many dogs in his life, but normally there is one that occupies a special place in his heart. For me, that dog was Ivory. A yellow lab with intelligent eyes and a perpetual smile, she graced our home for nearly fourteen years. Ivory actually belonged to my son Clint but when he left for college, she stayed. She became my dog, or rather, she chose me as her master. A few years later, Clint and I walked out of the camp office together. Ivory, grinning her silly smile, expectantly thumped her big tail against the wall. I challenged Clint to a test, “Let’s find out who Ivory really loves the most. You go north toward the road and I’ll go east to the Tabernacle. We’ll see who is her master.” He reluctantly agreed to my challenge. I was confident she would follow me because of how faithfully she always followed me each day. We both agreed not to look back until we had reached our respective spots. As I walked the seventy-five feet to the Tabernacle, I expected at any time to hear her steps behind me. Reaching the sidewalk I stopped and looked at Clint. He stood on his spot, the same distance from our starting point. Ivory was sitting right where we’d left her, anxiously looking back and forth. She wagged her tail, grinning at both of us. She seemed to be saying, “Eenie, Meenie, Miney, Moe. . . .” I walked to Clint. Ivory ran to us. I knelt and patted her head. “I’m sorry to do that to you. We won’t put you in a bind like that again. You love both of us.” The words of Jesus came to me as I thought about Ivory’s allegiance. Jesus clearly stated that no man can serve two masters. In the Sermon on the Mount, He clearly spoke of allegiance and dedication, “No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money” (Matt. 6:24). The scariest part is this: many times, we stand and look back and forth at which master we will serve. The object drawing us away from God is often something good, but anything that blocks our commitment and dedication to God is harmful, no matter what it is. We must not settle for good when we can have the best—an intimate relationship with Jesus. We cannot serve two masters. Just as Ivory whined at being unable to choose between her two masters, we are most unhappy when we are in the no man’s land of attempted dual allegiance. # # # One more thought on choosing a master. We need a full understanding of what the word means. I loved to hear T.J. Crosby pray. He used the endearing term “Master” throughout his prayers. It was his default address to God. It’s a good term. Master. It says a lot. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone else use the term in their praying. Master. It means Boss. It’s a subservient term, and we Westerners don’t like being servile. A person who exercises authority or dominates. Doesn’t sound like a sweet cooing baby. It’s easier to keep Jesus in that manger than to think of one who “directs and controls.” A victor who conquers. Master. It’s a first cousin to the more familiar “Lord.” The finest example of the term master is in the gospels. Let me set the stage. Simon Peter, a strong Galilean fisherman, has Jesus the carpenter in his boat. Jesus says, “Launch out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answers, “Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing; nevertheless at your word I will let down the net.” The Jesus Film, based on the book of Luke, nails this scene. Burly bearded Simon looks confused, “But Master, we fished all night and didn’t catch a thing.” Then shrugs and smiles. “But if you say so, we’ll do it.” There’s a principle here: if someone is master, we’ll obey him or her. We’ll even obey them when it doesn’t make sense. Sea of Galilean fishermen caught fish at night. Last night had been a waste. It didn’t make sense to try again. Other than that Jesus said it. We remember the WWJD bracelets so popular in the 90s. “What Would Jesus Do?” A lady made me a similar one. DWJS. Do What Jesus Says. Pretty simple. Pretty profound. Secondly, when we know Jesus is our Master, we’ll worship Him. We’ll bow in admiration, respect, and love. That’s hard for us Americans. It’s in our blood to be independent—that attitude of “I’m no better than anyone, but no one’s better than me.” It permeates my culture in the piney woods of western Louisiana. Our ancestors came here to be left alone. Not beholden to anyone. But if we worship Jesus, we must bow to Him. He’s worthy. He’s worthy of our worship. Finally, if we recognize Jesus as Lord and Master, we’ll follow Him. Go where He leads. Strive to walk closely with Him. Sometimes, the most miserable person in the world is not the person who has no room for God in his/her life. Yes, that person is unhappy and unfulfilled. However, there is probably no worse spot to be in than attempting to be both a follower of Jesus and the world. May we constantly be reminded of the love and grace of Jesus. Let us never forget His strong call for us to forsake this world and our own wants to wholeheartedly follow Him, this Amazing Jesus, the Son of the Living God. Poor Ivory waffled back and forth between serving two masters. Often, I’m just like her, wanting to hang onto this old world yet reaching for higher things. “Then
The Man in the Hat . . . and Ed and Kat King
His face softened as he extended his hand.
His grip was just as strong as I expected.
I hope mine was too. “Sir, I really mean it. I appreciate what you did for our country.”
“I am Lottie Moon” Week at The Creek
Learn more about Lottie Moon by scrolling down* or visiting her Wikipedia page. You can also learn more and give directly to the Lottie Moon Mission Offering. Hey Friends, December 1-8 is the Week of Prayer among our denomination. It is the time when we Southern Baptists give an offering toward overseas missions. This offering is called the “Lottie Moon Christmas Offering” (LMCO)and goes directly to meet the needs of the nearly 5000 missionaries serving the International Mission Board (IMB). Our organization loves acronyms such as “Give to the IMB’s LMCO.” Rather than quote statistics or use acronyms, we’re going to tell stories this week. Stories of the folks we are training with who are supported by the Lottie Moon offering. I urge you to give to this offering as never before. I beg of our churches to give sacrificially. Sadly, there are young people ready to go serve who cannot because of a lack of financial resources. I view these two things as unacceptable: 1. That people are living and dying without hearing the name of Jesus. 2. There are servants ready to go tell who cannot because of a lack of funding. You can help on this by giving. Give through your church or give directly. I have personally seen how these monies are used. I’ve seen missionaries drive 4WDs to inaccessible places to share about Jesus. I saw Lottie Moon money used to help the Muslims of Indonesia after the 2004 tsunami. I hid the Jesus Film DVD in Chinese rice fields that were in a specific dialect. This was done through Lottie Moon funding. I’ve stood by AIDs patients in South Africa who have now come to Jesus through Lottie Moon supported missionaries. *Lottie Moon was a pioneer missionary for forty years in China. She survived civil wars, persecution, and famine. She died of malnutrition as she left her beloved China in 1912. Since 1925, Southern Baptists have taken a yearly offering to support our overseas missionaries. DeDe and I will be serving for two years in Africa beginning in 2013. This offering supports the work we will doing.
The Week in Photos
A picture is truly worth a thousand words Humor is so important wherever we are. I’m excited about getting a 4WD vehicle in Africa. This is a typical Ugandan road during rainy season. I hope I don’t get one of these:
Wal Mart in the Sahara: Thoughts on the Self-Aware Life
Friday, November 23, 2012 Black Friday: A Wal Mart in the Sahara “It is the most important rule of the desert. You must learn to watch, to be sure, and always remember where you have come from.” -Saharan Tuareg nomad quoted by Amanda Jones in her story “One Night in the Sahara.” (From the book The Kindness of Strangers** by Lonely Planet) After reading this quote, I’m determined to do one thing better: remember where I park at Wal Mart. Whether it’s the excitement (or dread) of going in a Super Center, I often won’t be aware of my parking row or spot. From the chorus of car alarm horns I hear in Wal Mart parking lots, I know I’m not alone. We fumble with shopping lists, cell phones, and finding an empty spot, then empty cart, we lose our bearings.
The Journey to Africa
Read free sample chapters on Kindle from our new book, Christmas Jelly. The Journey DeDe and I are on a journey that will continue in Africa during 2013. We are currently training in Virginia where we’ll be until Christmas. Here is our tentative 2013 schedule: Jan. 14 Leave for Kenya Jan-April Swahili Studies Kenya April-May Bush Camp Zambia May Move to our home base in Uganda May: Begin research and Trips South Sudan Our job will be reaching and connecting with Unreached People Groups in East Africa. Our primary countries will be: Tanzania Uganda South Sudan Eastern Democratic Congo Burundi Presently, our team’s plans are to work in the new country of South Sudan.
A Hand on My Shoulder
Gifts are all around us if we only slow down, stop, and see them. Read free sample chapters on Kindle from our new book, Christmas Jelly. A Hand on My Shoulder I can still feel Raymond’s hand on my shoulder. I hope I always will. Four of us are walking through downtown Richmond. It’s a mile walk, not 26.1 miles, from the finish line at the Richmond Marathon. I see him crossing 7th Street. Tap . . . tap . . . tapping a long white cane for his bearings. He’s a black man about my age . . . and he’s blind. His bearings are a tad off. He’s tapping toward the edge of the curb and a street lamp. Impulsively, (a word that has brought me both joy and heartache) I hurry to him. “Sir, you might want to move to your right a step or two.” He nods and I notice two things. His lifeless eyes and radiant smile. “Thanks.” “Do you mind if I walk a ways with you?”
Get a FREE e-book copy of Christmas Jelly!
So with Thanksgiving in our sights, we here at Creekbank stories want to share some holiday love with folks. Right now, continuing until December 1st, sign up for our Newsletter and get a free e-book of Christmas Jelly! https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/248228 Tell your friends! Remember, we send out the coupon code on December 1, and if your not signed up by then, you won’t get one! So hurry up and subscribe already! [button link=”http://eepurl.com/e17ks” newwindow=”yes” color=”green” type=”big”] Click to Subscribe! [/button] How you can pray: Even though we’re not in Africa yet, you can begin prayer walking with us now. Let’s begin in the town of Entebbe, Uganda. This is the place our supervisor (Bob C.) wants us to live. It’s near the International Airport so we can get to other countries quickly in our Engagement jobs. Pray that the right apartment/house will come open. That God will be preparing us to be good witnesses to our new neighbors. For our co-workers Bob and Nancy/David and Renee.
The Right Gift: Mandela, Todd Burnaman and more
The Right Gift It’s November. Time to think about gifts. As my momma says, “It’s never too early to think about Christmas buying.” I’m reminded that the best gifts don’t have to be expensive. They just need to be covered in love. When Nelson Mandela was South Africa’s president, he made a state visit to America. President Bill Clinton and the White House staff wanted to give him the perfect gift. Nelson Mandela This story from NPR tells about the gift: During the Clinton administration, one of Chief of Protocol Mary Mel French’s biggest successes came when her team learned that South African leader Nelson Mandela was a boxing fan. “We wrote letters to all the major living boxers in the United States and their agents and asked if they would give a ticket to one of their major matches or a program that they signed or something that was from this famous boxing match, whatever it was,” she says. The boxers not only sent memorabilia; they each wrote a letter to Mandela. French’s team bound it all into a volume with photographs, and President Clinton presented the scrapbook to Mandela.
Christmas Jelly, African Eyes, and more
Today is Saturday, November 3. It’s a cool brisk day in the Appalachian foothills of Virginia. Excitement is building over our latest book, Christmas Jelly. You can read a sample chapter here or order your own copy. Ebook copies are for sale at Smashwords and Amazon Kindle. Later this week, we’ll be giving away free downloads of Christmas Jelly. African Eyes People often ask, “Why do you keep going back to Africa when there are so many needs here at home?” I feel called. It may not be anyone’s else’s call, but I know it’s mine.
