25:11

I am sure a lot of us who have attended church for a fairly significant amount of time, have at one time, or another, heard a teacher or Pastor speak about "running a race" in our Christian journey. There are several places in the Bible where a race is used as an example for the readers and listeners to better understand this journey that we are all on. I have heard comments about how "the race is not for the swift"(Ecc. 9:11), how "that in a race all the runners run"(I Cor. 9:24), how we should "persevere in this race"(Heb. 12:1), and how we should "finish the race"(II Tim. 4:7). Recently, I have lived these scriptures. I ran in a race. Not a marathon, but a 5K race. I'm from the old school, so let's say it was 3.1 miles.
I had started running when I left UPS, to stay in shape, and to make my doctor happy. My son, Joshua, is a "runner". He ran Cross Country in High School and College, and he still runs. He is the one that has convinced me that a 5K (3.1 miles) is not that hard of a run......and I believed him. Anyway, I had stopped running so much this year, till he said that I needed to run in this upcoming 5K race in China Grove. So.........I began to train. I ran for 6 days over 2 weeks, and he assures me that I am ready to run. "It is an easy course.....just straight down the street and back.....it's at night......no big turns, or hills." So I race. I don't remember a lot about the last half mile. It was so hot. Sweat was in my eyes, and my legs were killing me. After I had poured a bottle of water over me, and laid on the ground to try and recover from the intense leg cramps I was having.......here comes Joshua..............."See, that was easy." I am just trying to walk, and he is smiling. Joshua doesn't say a whole lot, but when he smiles......that means he is proud of Pops.
Like I said........I lived those passages of scripture. I'm not swift.......and everybody did run......oh, there was some perseverance......and I did finish the race......in 25:11, but I realized something very important that we sometimes overlook when we read these scriptures.....We are not running this race alone. I didn't run that race the other night alone; Joshua was right beside me cheering me on. He could have run that race in a time around 17 minutes, if not quicker when he is in shape; but he chose to run with me.......a beginner. He coached me through the mile markers; he encouraged me to run through the cramps; he told me when and where to pass people; how to make the turn-around and not lose time; he poured water on me at the 2 mile marker; he challenged me.........and he stood with me as I received my 3rd place medallion. I was never alone in this race.
We are never alone in this race that we call life, either. We may not be the swiftest of all the runners in the race; it may take us longer than some, but we will persevere, and we will finish this race that Christ has marked out for us. And the best part is........He is running with us. He knows our hurts and pains; He knows the adrenaline rush we feel when we move ahead; He celebrates with us. We are never alone. See you at the finish line.

Psalm 35

Wednesday morning I stopped by the hospital to check on John Miller. I had received an e-mail that he had been admitted there, and that things weren't looking too good. On the way, I began to think about "hospital visits", and how I am not quite sure how to do the "correct" visit. "What should I say?", "Will he be able to talk to me?", "Will he be up for company?", "How long a visit is too long?", "Will a short visit offend him?"
As I get off the elevator and head toward his room, all the questions race through my mind again and again; and then I am at John's room. He's not in his bed like I had expected. He's sitting in a chair having breakfast. So, I start to head for a chair to pull up beside of him, but he stops me and wants a hug;..........and he got one. Now I can pull up a chair to talk to him, and when I do he hands me a Bible and asks, "Could you read Psalm 35 to me?"........I didn't see that one coming, but I opened the Bible to Psalm 35; then I noticed how small the print was.......real small, and I didn't have my glasses. No problem, John offered me his. I began reading, and he began praising the Lord. I know the nurses at their station had to have heard him because he didn't whisper his praise; and he continued praising God as I read. And the more he praised......the louder I read; and I don't apologize for that. You see, John's praise was encouragement for me, because God's Word was encouragement for John. There was nothing special about the way that I read to him, or where I was reading. There was nothing special about which translation I read. What was special though, was that as God's Word was being read.......praise was happening; and I, like a lot of Christ followers, enjoy praise. John enjoys God's Word. He records each chapter that he reads in a little notepad, and this day.....he wrote "Psalm 35" in that notepad......and I enjoyed a morning of praise; not a hospital visit.

John, it was good to see you praising at church Sunday.

License check?

This morning I was on my way to the church and I was planning everything that I needed to try and get done today; line up the music; answer e-mails; write a letter of recommendation; visit a member in assisted living; call musicians; check my calendar; did I say answer e-mails. And with all this and more on my mind, I am met with the ever-popular "License Check". It was no big deal. I knew what to do, and what to have ready. So, as I waited my turn to pull forward to the officer, I got out my wallet and pulled out my driver's license. I had already rolled down my window and was preparing myself for a quick, short visit. I even rehearsed how polite I would be during the short verbal exchange. However, I was not asked the customary, "License please." The officer asked, "Are you going to get your truck inspected today?".......What?......Inspected?.... I just got it in September. When is it due?.......April? I couldn't believe it. But, there it was; on the windshield right in front of me.........April punched out.......08 punched out........man.
If you are like me; you start thinking about that "grace period" myth.....you know the one. "There's a 30 day grace period if your inspection runs out.".......there's not one. I really don't care what so-and-so says.....there's not one. I know......But, this officer showed me grace. And, I immediately started thinking of all the places that I could get an inspection; here at the end of the month. They are all going to be crowded; I'll have to wait. I don't have time to wait. I have a lot to do. Think....think.....think. I can't.......drawing a blank........need a Mtn. Dew.
Laugh if you must, but when I stopped for a Dew, I found an inspection station just two miles away. And when I pulled up, I drove straight in and they inspected my truck....done. Now, I know you might think this is a good lead-in to an example of answered prayer, but it's not. What happened to me this morning is a reminder to us all to not take for granted our responsibilities. There are things that we need to do; things that require our attention; personal things. Just because, at a church service, or concert we chose to believe in Jesus Christ' life, death, and Resurrection as our means for salvation, doesn't mean that we should forget about it; and then have to be reminded about it through a stranger (tragic event, sickness, struggles). When we accepted Jesus Christ as our Savior, we were given a new life. And just like the inspection sticker reminds you to keep your vehicle meeting the state's guidelines for safe operation each year, we need to see that we are staying on course in our quest to be more like Christ in our lives. Is anything in our life "past due"?.........Bible reading/study; prayer; visits; phone calls; acts of service; forgiveness.......You're fine.......there IS a "grace period".

I really enjoy this "truck"

They are everywhere. They are in major cities, small towns, and in rural areas. They have a distinct color and shape. Even if you only get a glimpse of it, you know that it's a UPS truck. Like I said, they are everywhere. I should know, I drove one for 28 years; and I still wave to the driver, and I still turn my head to see one going by. I can even pick out the UPS truck in a TV show, and in a movie; even if it is way in the background; even for just a brief second....I see it.

And having been a driver for UPS for 28 years, I am constantly asked, "Do you miss it?" And to be honest, in a way I do. Most of the time I can tell people that I don't miss UPS, and what I don't miss is the part of the job that stressed me mentally. That's as far as I will go with that comment. But, what I thought I would miss would be all the customers, people, and friends that I met and grew to know well enough for them to call me by name. And all of that was possible because I drove a "big brown truck". People were always excited to see this truck stop in front of their home, or coming down their driveway. I was bringing something to them. Maybe they ordered it as a gift for a child, or a spouse. Maybe it was a piece to fix an appliance in the house. It could be new clothes, a computer, marketing supplies, blueprints, college books.....I never knew, but I knew that I had something for them, and they were excited to get it. You know the feeling that I am talking about. This big brown truck, that is so recognizable, is in front of your house and there is something in it for you. Oh, the excitement; the anticipation. You can't wait to open it and make it "officially" yours. It is not trapped inside a box anymore; it is in your hands and it is yours....yours to use....yours to read......play with.....wear.....install. And then to show to your friends, or to tell them about what you now have because a big brown truck delivered it to you.

Do I miss it? It has been one year since I parked my big brown truck. And, I don't miss the customers and friends that I met as much as I thought I would. My life style has changed a little in the past year, but one thing has stayed strangely the same. I still feel sometimes like I am coming up someones driveway with a package, but this time I know what is inside. Because, I have opened it up; I have looked at it; I have the same thing, and I am excited when I get the chance to give this away.......and it is received.

I don't have a big brown truck anymore, but I do enjoy this tan and blue "truck" where more and more friends and loved ones come to meet, share, fellowship, and worship together. And inside this "truck", you will find all the excitement and wonder of lives that, when they were given this package; this gift.....and received it.....changed......everything changed.........everything. I really enjoy this "truck".

Wonder of the Cross

Every so often, I hear a song that catches my heart. I listen intently to the words and then I listen for the emotion. Will this be a song that the church will enjoy singing? Is this a song that will encourage us as a church body? Do the words cause us to feel; to think; to love; to worship? A few weeks ago I was reading some responses to an article about a worship leader of a church that was asking for some help in selecting songs for their upcoming Easter Service. One of the responses was from a young female worship leader from England, Vicky Beeching. She mentioned a song that she had written about the cross of Jesus, and how she would offer it as a suggestion for an Easter song. So, I decided to find the song and give it a listen. And, oh what a song!

"The Wonder of the Cross" stirs my imagination. I listen to the words and they paint a living picture of the cross. The words cause my mind to look back in time; not to the crucifixion, but to the day I heard about the love of Christ; the day I heard that He gave His life on that cross for me. I listen to the words that encourage me to hold on to that memory; to not let time and years steal the power of the cross, and how it has impacted my life. Listening to the song, my mind sees the cross; not as a vertical, horizontal wooden structure that stands as a symbol of our belief, but as I saw it for the first time; at a revival. What had always been just a symbol was now real in my mind, and in my heart. This structure of wood was shameful, painful, and necessary for my salvation. My life would never be the same; neither would anyone else that looked at the cross the way that I did that evening. When I see the cross in my mind, I feel it in my heart. When I see people respond to the cross, I feel it in my heart. When I see lives changed because of the cross, I feel it in my heart. Please, don't ask me what it feels like; I can't tell you. It's what I would say is the wonder of the cross, and as is written in the song, "May I never lose the wonder, the wonder of the cross". May we never lose the wonder.

Water Jars

I just read in John, chapter 2, about Jesus attending a wedding in Cana. I have heard this story told as the first miracle that Jesus did; how he turned the water into wine, and how the master of the banquet was shocked that the groom had saved the best wine for the end of the feast. That was not the norm of that time; for after the good wine had been served to the guest, and they had become "happily filled", the cheaper stuff would be served; no one would actually know the difference. However, this time was different. What many people had become accustomed to, changed. What was suppose to be just another cup of cheap wine, caught guests by surprise. What had Jesus done? Did he fill the jars with water? Did he pray over the jars of water? Was he the one who served the wine? Did the master of the banquet address him as to where this wine came from?.......no. Jesus remained in the background during all of this. All he did was to tell the servants to fill 6 jars with water, and they did. Jesus then told them to draw some of the water out and to serve it to the master of the banquet. That's all that is recorded......"that's all He did? Where's the miracle?" I would be the one that would tell you that Jesus turned the water into wine, but recently I was in a conversation that mentioned this event, and that the "miracle" was in the servants listening to Jesus. When the servants did as Jesus instructed, the water was turned to wine. They had no idea what was going to happen. They probably were afraid as to what might happen to them if people tasted water instead of wine. We read that the master of the banquet was surprised at the excellence of the wine, but how surprised do you think the servants must have been, for they knew that they had just filled those jars with water. Who was this that had instructed them? Who had they listened to? Last Sunday I was at the new HRCC campus in Kannapolis, and what I saw were servants that had been instructed by Jesus to take a middle school gymnasium (jars), and fill it with HRCC (water); the same HRCC that we see each week when we attend at the Bringle Ferry campus, and the Denton campus. As these servants unloaded a trailer, and poured into the gym, a miracle began. What appeared to be sound equipment, musical instruments, coffee maker, hospitality supplies, nursery supplies, tables, chairs, and a tarp, was actually a church; High Rock Community Church. And, when all the preparation was done, at 10:00, the Master of this banquet was presented with a "wine" that I know pleased Him. His servants had listened to Him. There was music, there was singing, there was HRCC in Kannapolis.

Blank Canvas

"Ronnie, you have to blog!?!" That's what she said. I was just standing there, minding my own business after a large meal with some Small Group leaders, and out of the blue comes this statement; "you have to blog". I know that for some people it is like second nature to blog. They seem to write about any, and everything under the sun; sometimes it has substance, and sometimes it's a lot of letters and spaces. But, when I sit down in front of the computer, and look at this blank area of white next to a picture of me looking back at me, I freeze. It is the same as when I look at a blank canvas before I paint, a sheet of sketch paper before I draw, and the silence just before I pray; I really don't know what will happen. I could tell about all the ways that God moved in the hearts of the people at HRCC this past week-end as they heard of, and met "real" needs within the church family, and how they met the "real" needs of people outside of the church family. I could tell of how gutters will be repaired for a man who had no idea that he was about to be ministered to; or about the amazing support for the lady who needed help with her gas bill; or the car maintenance; or the home repairs; or the new well estimate. How do I explain this to someone who wasn't there to see it? It was like watching God's hand as He moved across a blank heart canvas to reveal a masterpiece that I needed to see. I didn't know what would happen when the needs were presented. But, I now realize that that was not my canvas to paint. I have been praying and planning for the new Kannapolis Campus, and the Praise Team that will be leading worship there. Wednesday night was set aside as a rehearsal time for the musicians. They were going to have just enough participants to have, what I thought would be, a good Team. However, it would be better if there was one more guitar player. Maybe by the first couple of services, someone would step up and want to be a part of the Team. I mean, that's how it worked here at HRCC......Just as we are getting ready to rehearse, a guy walks in with his family in tow, and asked if we were having a Wednesday night service. I politely said that we were actually starting a rehearsal for the Praise Team that will be in Kannapolis........Watch this........He plays guitar.....But, he didn't have it with him..........Mine is on the guitar stand because I am helping out by playing the bass tonight.....He asks to play mine......and for the next 90 minutes God continued painting on a canvas that I thought He had finished on Sunday. Ask any artist, and they will tell you that their work is not done until it is signed. I'm the same way. If I'm painting, or drawing, or writing; it's not done until I sign it. I feel that God is just starting His masterpiece, and it is a long way from being signed. I am enjoying the work in progress.