The Mystery Box

Charlie has the ability to think on his feet.  He has so much information in his brain that he can expound on almost any topic.  I’ve heard him discussing the differences in airplanes with pilots and various types of vessels with skippers.  He can hold his own in a political, economic, or religious discussion.  He can participate in topics ranging from wildlife to international affairs.  Unlike me, he doesn’t usually need the professionals to speak in lay terminology.

One day I told him about a “Mystery Bag” I had seen a former pastor use.  Each week a family took the Bag home, inserted a household object, and brought it to church and put it on the platform.  The pastor then opened the Bag and brought out the object.  Without knowing ahead of time what the object was, he used the item to teach a spiritual lesson.  Charlie decided he would try it, and a Sunday evening tradition was born.

At first, it was a big game to see who could stump the pastor.  Sometimes he had to ask for additional information about the object.  Occasionally he stalled, making comments about the object he held in his hands while his mind furiously sought for a spiritual lesson he could teach with it.  Through the years, we’ve seen many stuffed animals, toys, kitchen gadgets, and office supplies. 

On our last Sunday at West Hampden, two mystery items appeared.  One was brought in by a child who didn’t realize that someone else had already brought something.  Because it was our last Sunday, Charlie decided to take them both.  The first was a child’s storybook, and he used the story line to teach a message.  The second one he opened had two travel mugs inside, with a picture of children in our church and inscribed with these words, “We will be praying for you.”  He choked up and didn’t even try to come up with an object lesson for that one.  Instead, he thanked the children for their willingness to pray for us.

It is a mystery to me why God answers prayer.  It is an even bigger mystery to me that the great, big, wonderful God who made the universe would make a way for me to know Him and have a relationship with Him.  How thankful I am that my God doesn’t fit in any of my boxes.  I accept that much about Him is a mystery, but He's way too big for any box, even a theoretical one.

Beholding Beauty

The beauty that God places in front of me each day is amazing.  There are some places where I've lived where I look back on and say, “There was nothing particularly pretty about that area, but I loved living there.”  There are others where there were particular things that drew my eye and encouraged me to give thanks to God for putting me there.  That is the case with Searsport.

Taking the opportunity of a day off on Memorial Day, we walked from our trailer to downtown and down to the sea.   We found the park, the dock, and of course, the beach.  I took off my sandals and walked along the cobblestone beach, splashing in the shallow water, letting the bay's water lap at my ankles.  Dogs and people played with each other in the shallows, and shrieks of laughter filled the air.

In our current location, there is obvious beauty all around. From the flowers and the parks to the quaint seaside villages and the ocean vistas, I often find myself giving thanks to God for the natural beauty that surrounds me.  Yesterday I sat at my windows while a storm moved in and marvelled at the billowing cumulus clouds racing wispy cirrus clouds across the sky.  Big raindrops and tiny bits of hail pelted the window, and periodic lightning snaked through the dark clouds.  Not a day goes by that I don't marvel at God's natural world around us.


After the skies cleared, I wandered outside to enjoy the fresh air, the sunshine, and the flowers.  Tiny orange flowers hid beneath the towering white lilac bushes.  Butterflies and bees floated on the cool breeze and fluttered from flower to flower.  I went back into the trailer and grabbed a pair of scissors, anxious to infuse some natural perfume into the trailer.

I found myself singing.  I joined the psalmist in saying, " O LORD our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens."  How blessed I feel I am to know, worship, and love the Creator of our world.

This morning I saw three robins standing like sentries in the yard, peering over the blades of grass for a hint of movement that would become a tasty breakfast.  Earlier this week I awoke to the call of seagulls, a pleasant change from the cawing of the crows that awakened me in Hampden.  Everywhere I turn, God's beauty abounds.  And because of my forage into the yard yesterday with scissors, God's creative beauty and fragrance are inside the trailer too.

    

Eleven Years

For the past eleven years, this has been our church home.  Our memories extend back to that first Sunday in 2000 when Charlie filled the pulpit.  Snow covered the ground.  The black cross on the front of the building beckoned us up the long driveway.  We entered the building and found a group of friendly people.  We rejoiced in the beautiful music we heard that morning and left certain that they would want someone better qualified to be their pastor.  Instead, they called us and became our personal friends.  More than that.  They became family.

Eleven years is longer than I have ever held a single job and longer than I’ve ever lived in the same house.  Those who were teens when we arrived have graduated from college and are living on their own.  Between the time we came in January and March when Charlie started as pastor, a little girl named Polly was born.  Her bright eyes and pixie smile are a continual reminder of how long we've been here.  One night, about eleven years ago, we were awakened by a phone call that one of our members had been rushed to the hospital with respiratory heart failure.  When Charlie got off the phone, he realized he hadn’t asked which hospital; and we were new enough that we didn’t realize that there were only two hospitals in town.  That woman is still worshipping with us and has been such a blessing through these years.

During these eleven years, the church has stood by us.  We have moved multiple times since we arrived – into a temporary residence, then a three-bedroom white ranch, then a four-bedroom contemporary ranch to care for  Charlie’s father, and then our stuff into storage and ourselves into a series of temporary residences.  On every occasion, there were people from the church ready to help.  They stood by us and prayed for us when we tried to adopt children.  They were there for us when Charlie’s dad died and my parents moved in and then out of Maine.  They have encouraged us, helped us, and made our ministry here a joy.

With grateful hearts for the past eleven years and high expectations of what God will do for West Hampden Baptist Church in the future, we say farewell.  We rest in the certainty that “he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

We love you, West Hampden and look forward to hearing of the great things that God is doing in your lives.

Moving as a Way of Life

In 2005, we bought a house together with my father-in-law.  It was the nicest house I have ever owned.  From our bedroom we could see the Coast Guard make its way up the Penobscot River, cutting a way through the ice in the winter time.  Eagles flew overhead and sometimes sat in the trees on our property.  Five picture windows allowed natural light to fill our home. A full basement and plenty of closet space meant I never had to get rid of things just because of a lack of space.  Old hardwood floors and a newly renovated kitchen made it a place of my dreams.

A wintry picture of the house of my dreams.

In the summer of 2009, when God called us out of the pastorate into an itinerant teaching ministry, we put the house on the market.  It sold in February, 2010.  We sold much of our household belongings and moved the rest into storage.  Since that time, we have been in a series of temporary locations.  In the past six months we have moved three times.  Last week we moved again, this time into a singlewide trailer in a coastal town in Maine.

The day may come when I tire of the frequent moves, but right now I am very thankful for them.  They remind me of things that are too easy to forget in our everyday normal life. 

• I am a nomad through this life.   This world is not my permanent dwelling.  I was made for eternity.  I best live out my destiny when I keep this life temporary and invest in eternity.
• I live in a temporary shelter (my body) that I will shed one day like worn out clothes.  While I must care for it in order to use it to its best use, it is less important than the person inside it.
• Living in a series of temporary locations keeps me from investing too much time and energy on things that will not matter in one hundred years.  While I still love to surround myself with beauty and order, I draw more from the things that are free, like the flowers that grow alongside the road and the beautiful sunsets outside my window.  
• I have great examples to follow.  Abraham lived in tents and wandered throughout the promised land.  Jesus never owned a home.  Paul was an itinerant church planter and teacher. 

Perhaps the best part of this itinerant life is the way it forces me to focus on internal roots rather than external ones:  "As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him: rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving."  (Col. 2:6-7)

Thank you, Lord, for these opportunities to focus on You.

A new place to live

We have recently moved to the missions house of the Lighthouse Bible Church in Searsport, ME. Pastor Rusty Bonin has been a friend in the ministry and we have known and fellowshipped with the people of Lighthouse for over a decade. Searsport is only 20 miles or so from Hampden, but it is a very different community. On the banks of the Penobscot River, just like Hampden, but closer to the sea, Searsport is still an active seaport. While Searsport has a smaller population, it has a defined town center and Joan and I can walk to the store, post office, library etc. about one and a half miles away.

The weather has been windy and overcast and one night we had a dense fog with a decided salty tang I had not smelled in a long time. I was glad I was on dry ground and not the deck of a ship that night!

We have no cable, no internet at home and must go to the local library to get online, cell phone coverage is less reliable than Hampden, but still useable.

I am thankful to the good people of Lighthouse Bible for their generosity, and I am thankful that our Lord tells us "The silver is mine, and the gold is mine..." (Haggai 2:8) He has a plan for our ministry, and He knows how he will provide for our ministry. He knows the churches and people who will pray. He knows the churches and people who will give of their housing, food, and other resources. He knows our needs, and more important, His desires for us. I would ask you to pray for us, that we would not "despise the day of small things" as the Lord starts a work in us and through us that will equip men and women to exalt His name to the uttermost parts of the earth.