Friday devotions

"Good Soil" - by Handt Hanson

Lord, let my heart be good soil,
open to the seed of your word.
Lord, let my heart be good soil,
where love can grow
and peace is understood.

When my heart is hard, break the stone away.
When my heart is cold, warm it with the day.
When my heart is lost, lead me on your way.
Lord, let my heart, Lord, let my heart,
Lord, let my heart be good soil.

Update on your prayers

Thanks for the prayers about the van money. Prompted by them, I got up this morning and called the PCUSA offices in Louisville just to check up on things. I talked to a very nice man named Mark McCabe, who told me that the check from the Presbytery hasn't arrived yet, but that he will watch for it, and exercise all due diligence to get it where it is supposed to go. I was able to give him some bank routing information from John which might make things easier. I'm so glad I called!

Also, I put him in touch (email) with John Setterlund, who is over there. And I'm a little more hopeful that this thing will happen.

So thank you and please keep praying!

The "Four Muskeeters" thank you! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Text for Sunday, Aug. 26

I'm preaching on Psalm 24 - "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof."
We're taking a little break in the lectionary, because Sunday is "Rural Life Sunday" - which we have been celebrating here at Philo Pres. for a few years now. Once a year, we thank God for placing our congregation right smack in the middle of farm country. Then in the afternoon we visit one of our member's working farm. (We have three or four active farm families and several others with farm backgrounds and/or land in production.)
This year Frank and Janice Moore are hosting us, with a hand from neighbor Celeste Taylor. It's a chance for the children to see farm stuff up close and personal. And for all of us to experience what farm life is about.
Janice has been working for weeks. She's got tractor rides, golf cart rides, and maybe some horseback rides lined up. And she's making cookies . . . I hope we get a nice turn out!
Philo has another reason to celebrate God's blessings on this day: Part of the church's endowment is a farm, south of Philo. Dirk Rice and Frank Moore are our farm managers. The proceeds from the farm are part of our congregation's budget. That's an extra connection to the land that many congregations don't have, and we are thankful for it.

Prayer Request

Will you pray that a gift arrives safely, please?
The Presbytery Treasurer let me know yesterday that our gift - money to buy a van - is being wired to the school in Palestine today. Getting money into this area of the world is very difficult. The Israeli government blocks many attempts by individuals AND CHURCHES to send aid into the West Bank.
The Presby. national mission office seems to think this will work, so we can hope that it will all go smoothly. But there is a possibility that it won't.
So please pray that, somehow, the check goes through and these kids can start school with a nice van to get them around. Thank you.

Seeing the face of Christ

Andrew (not his real name - not even the "real name" he gave me) showed up on Sunday morning as I was about to go over to church.
He needed some gas money, but assured me that he would come back Tuesday and work to earn it. I gave him some money, never in a million years expecting that I'd see him again, (at least until he needed more money).
But Tuesday he showed up, dressed in work clothes, and with chores in mind - trimming shrubs, cleaning up the vacant lot, washing windows and wood work. He started to work. But soon he needed a tool, a trash can, more directions . . . It started to rain and he went inside to work.
Did I have a squirt bottle?
Paper towels? Not those paper towels - the others are better for windows.

Lunch time came.
Could I fix you a ham sandwich?
No. Not ham. Do you have any eggs?
Yes.
You can fix me three eggs.
OK. I'll hard boil them.
Not too hard, OK? And don't put salt in the water. That makes them tough, you know that, right?

Get the idea? It was like that old story, "Stone Soup". Soon he had me bringing over a tray of eggs (cooked just right - no salt), a tomato, boiled potatoes (which he told me later were not quite boiled long enough), sauteed squash and hot tea.

He stayed the night in his old, beat up van, parked in the vacant lot. The next morning, for breakfast I offered oatmeal.
Do you have any raisins? Loose raisins? They're not in the oatmeal packet? And some cantaloupe?

As I made my fourth trip back and forth to church, bringing what he needed, Tim (who had bought him a wind up flashlight and offered him a shower at our house, the old softie) just smiled at me.

It's sort of ironic, isn't it? he said. You want to see Jesus in the face of the poor and the stranger. But what you don't realize at first is that Jesus is always a demanding guest.

Someone New I Met Today

You know I am trying to put together $20,000 to send to a school in Palestine, so they can buy a van. So far, we've got 17,600. And yesterday I "cold called" a man from the local mosque who is known to be very generous. He said he'd contribute something and I went by to get his check, little expecting to have my heart broken at 11 in the morning.
But that's what happened.
The man is from Iraq, and he told me the story of his brother's kidnapping and murder there.
His youngest brother was a physician, who stayed in Baghdad, even though practicing medicine there was a difficult and money losing proposition. He stayed, with his brother's financial support, and kept on treating patients. Then one night, as he returned home from the hospital, he was kidnapped. The kidnappers used his cell phone to call his family and demand money. They called the brother here, who said, "Pay whatever they ask." And they did. Three days passed. The brother was in touch with the family hourly. The kidnappers were demanding more money, which the family agreed to pay. But the doctor's son went to the morgue, and there he found his father, with a bullet in his head.
I know this happens every day over there. But, when you are sitting across the table from a family member who is mourning his baby brother's senseless death . . . it means something different than when you read it in the newspaper.
I am so sad for the family. And sad to be part of the government (in a democracy, we ARE part of the government, like it our not) that has visited this chaos upon a country where people cannot live and serve each other in safety anymore.
I wish I could believe that the American government and military can restore order and safety. But I don't believe that. I don't think anyone, even George Bush, believes that anymore.

Anyway. That was my morning. And if my heart is sore, think how God's heart must feel.

One of my favorite mission trip memories

On the way to our worksite everyday we passed a trailer converted into the "QuickBurger" diner. And on Wednesday, I convinced the guys that we needed to stop there to eat. Quickburgers are "sliders" - little White Castle like hamburgers: 69 cents apiece.

You ordered out front and the "dining room", with three little mismatched tables and chairs, was to the right. The plates (they were real plates!) didn't match either.

But the food was really tasty.

After we ate, I took the guys picture in front. The man on the left was a customer. And he was really "Tennessee" - so I asked him to be in the picture. And (this was the touching part, to me) he took off his glasses and put them in his pocket before he posed. I felt total kinship with him at that point. I do that silly sort of thing all the time.

What's that Robert Burns line? "O would the gift He gi'e us, to see ourselves as others see us."

I think that's all wrong. I think it should be

"O would the gift He gi'e us,

for others to see just as we see us."

Wouldn't that be nice? Then, truly, all the women would be strong, all the men handsome (like this guy!) and all the children above average. What a world that would be.