Jesus is Coming Back or—I Bought my First Cell Phone Today
That’s right. As you read this, know that l have purchased my first cell phone.
My family actually owned a cell phone back in the late 90s when we lived in Brownsville. We had no long distance service on our house phone; we used our cell phone for that and as security in case of potential car emergencies. In Winters, the church owned a cell phone that I would carry around with me whenever I was working. My wife and two of my daughters currently own cell phones, which they purchased themselves, but this will be my first.
I must confess that I am very excited. I am bought an iPhone. Most of our staff at Shiloh Road have iPhone's, and I have drunk the Kool-Aid. One of our members, Brandon Deever – a great guy and very active in Kingdom ministry – is a big cog in the AT&T stores here in East Texas, so my family gave his organization some business.
We purchased one of those unlimited texting plans. Haleigh and I will have iPhone's with Internet access, Judy and Abby will have simple cell phones for texting. Timothy and Annie—well let's just say they need to be praying for the next few years before they get theirs.
I have already downloaded the Kindel App so that I can order books on my iPhone for when I travel. I will definitely need to take a class in text language. (Does anybody know where they teach one? TJC? UT Tyler?) I may even start twitting, tweeting, twittering, or whatever the heck you call it.
Who knows? This may lead to me one day purchasing a Mac computer. Last week, I was in a meeting with a group that has been dominated by PC users. You can imagine my shock when, “he who shall not be named”, pulled out a Mac laptop and begin working on it. Actually, we were all shocked. His excuse was it was for his work, but then he let loose with the bombshell that he actually had it for a year. The times, they are a changing.
Buying a cell phone is a big step for me. I'll miss the peace and quiet that comes from not having a cell phone on my person. I'll miss the savings that came from not having a family phone plan. I've been able to fly my family to Seattle every couple of years to see my sister and her family on what we saved from not having a family cell phone plan. (Sis, if you're reading this, Christmas may be the last time you’ll see us in Seattle for a while. But we’ll sure text you!) Nevertheless, the time has come.
In the meantime, you might want to start watching the clouds. The Second Coming could be at hand.
Random Acts of Kindness
Sunday morning, I am preaching on first Corinthians 13. My focus will be on how churches are loving. Of course, this passage is regularly read during weddings. However, all attributes mentioned are attributes of Jesus; hence, they should be our attributes as well. For example, Jesus is kind; therefore, we are kind.
Random acts of kindness have become popular in this country. And I am all for that. I saw on the news about a couple months ago about a coffee shop in Kansas City, maybe even a Starbucks, where each patron at the drive-thru had been paying for a coffee product for the driver behind him or her -- and the streak had been going on for several days or even for a few weeks. Laudable!
Still, it's the simple acts of kindness that can be the most moving. I remember almost a decade ago, when my family and I were living in West Texas, my daughter, Haleigh, was a first-grade student at the local elementary school in Winters.
One morning, she was late to class, carrying a bunch of stuff, and in her haste, her materials spilled and scattered everywhere. Panic stricken, she froze, and began to cry.
I was in my car in the drive-through lane observing this, and I was tempted to shift into park, leave the car running, and get out of my car to go help her pick up everything. But then, out of the building came a high school student -- and I still remember who it was – Wade Parramore. His mother taught in elementary school and he had been by her room and was now on the way to his high school, which was within walking distance.
Even though he knew he would be tardy, Wade did not hesitate. He stopped what he was doing, knelt down, picked up all of Haleigh’s stuff, and gently handed it to her. He opened the schoolhouse door and guided her in so that she could make it to class before the tardy bell rang.
That story did not make the lineup on the local TV stations’ news that night. That event was not covered by the local newspaper. Yet, isn't it funny how after all of these years, I still have not forgotten that act of kindness?
Random acts of kindness have become popular in this country. And I am all for that. I saw on the news about a couple months ago about a coffee shop in Kansas City, maybe even a Starbucks, where each patron at the drive-thru had been paying for a coffee product for the driver behind him or her -- and the streak had been going on for several days or even for a few weeks. Laudable!
Still, it's the simple acts of kindness that can be the most moving. I remember almost a decade ago, when my family and I were living in West Texas, my daughter, Haleigh, was a first-grade student at the local elementary school in Winters.
One morning, she was late to class, carrying a bunch of stuff, and in her haste, her materials spilled and scattered everywhere. Panic stricken, she froze, and began to cry.
I was in my car in the drive-through lane observing this, and I was tempted to shift into park, leave the car running, and get out of my car to go help her pick up everything. But then, out of the building came a high school student -- and I still remember who it was – Wade Parramore. His mother taught in elementary school and he had been by her room and was now on the way to his high school, which was within walking distance.
Even though he knew he would be tardy, Wade did not hesitate. He stopped what he was doing, knelt down, picked up all of Haleigh’s stuff, and gently handed it to her. He opened the schoolhouse door and guided her in so that she could make it to class before the tardy bell rang.
That story did not make the lineup on the local TV stations’ news that night. That event was not covered by the local newspaper. Yet, isn't it funny how after all of these years, I still have not forgotten that act of kindness?
WALTER BENJAMIN AT THE DAIRY QUEEN—
REFLECTIONS AT 60 AND BEYOND
REFLECTIONS AT 60 AND BEYOND
No, I did not write that. Larry McMurtry did. This was his memoir.
Larry McMurtry is a prolific and award winning author, who grew up in Archer City, TX. His books include THE LAST PICTURE SHOW, TERMS OF ENDEARMENT, and LONESOME DOVE, which I absolutely loved. (The mini-series was equally good-the best western I’ve ever seen.) McMurtry still owns an un-airconditioned ranch house in Archer City, TX (which is near Wichita Falls) and spends a lot of time there owning and operating several used bookstores.
I once took Haleigh and Abby’s photo with him when they were little girls. He had been inside one of the stores unpacking some books. Judy and the girls had dropped me off while they went shopping. I was browsing and could not help eavesdropping as some doctoral student peppered McMurtry with questions. He had made a pilgrimage to Archer City to discover the deepest meanings of LONESOME DOVE. McMurtry clearly did not maintain the romantic view of the novel that the student sustained. McMurtry said he wrote it, and that was it—
on to the next project.
I knew that the famous author was tired of dealing with LONESOME DOVE and did not have the sentimental connection that we readers and viewers did. He wanted to focus on unpacking books. The sooner that starry-eyed literature student left him alone, the better. Finally, the student left. Half an hour later, Haleigh and Abby came in to get me.
I debated, briefly in my own mind whether or not I should do this, but I decided to go to the car and get my camera. How many opportunities would I have to take my girls’ photo with arguably the Southwest’s greatest author over the second half of the twentieth century.
I approached Mr. McMurtry, camera in hand, and asked if I could take his photo with my girls. He could not have been nicer. He dropped what he was doing, put his arms around the girls, and smiled as I took two or three shots—just to make sure I got one. He talked with us for a couple of minutes before, wanting to be sensitive to his time, I thanked him and we departed. I’ve still got those photos, I need to scan them.
I read WALTER BENJAMIN again last week. He wrote it about ten years ago. It is excellent. He describes his life, his parents’ life settling in Archer City, and he throws in little tidbits about his life as an author.
He also describes in some detail his love for books and his journey as a book scout. You might guess that I enjoyed that section.
(By the way, the Doctors’ Wives of Tyler had a benefit book sale yesterday. I found 32 gems for a quarter a piece. Hardbacks! I could not believe it, but I digress.)
McMurtry ended his memoir writing about one of the great lessons he learned concerning the fleeting nature of fame and prestige. He was lecturing [one] day at a small college in Uvalde, TX, and during a short break in a daylong effort, while back at his motel for a nap, his agent called and told him he had won the Pulitzer Prize for his novel, LONESOME DOVE.
He writes, “My agent determined to communicate to me the majesty [of winning the Pulitzer.] When I finally got him off the line, my next call was from the motel office: a reporter and a photographer from the local paper were there to get a brief interview and take my picture.”
“The night before, when I drove into Uvalde, the manager of the Holiday Inn where I was staying had written on its marquee: ‘Welcome, Larry McMurtry, Author of Terms of Endearment.’ That had never happened to me before...
“But time waits for no author, not in Uvalde, anyway. As I walked up to meet the press I glanced at the marquee and saw it had already been changed. Now it read: ‘Lunch Special, Catfish: $3.95.’ Even as [my agent] was telling me how great he had made me, my moment had passed. It was a good lesson to be remembered. The Pulitzer Prize was well and good, but there was lunch to think of, and catfish at $3.95 was a bargain not to be scorned. The locals were already flocking to it, and as soon as the needs of the press had been satisfied, I went in and did the same.”
Mr. McMurtry was nice enough to remind me in that passage that even if we gain prestige, we cannot maintain prestige forever. And it is pointless to look to prestige as a source of happiness.
Larry McMurtry is a prolific and award winning author, who grew up in Archer City, TX. His books include THE LAST PICTURE SHOW, TERMS OF ENDEARMENT, and LONESOME DOVE, which I absolutely loved. (The mini-series was equally good-the best western I’ve ever seen.) McMurtry still owns an un-airconditioned ranch house in Archer City, TX (which is near Wichita Falls) and spends a lot of time there owning and operating several used bookstores.
I once took Haleigh and Abby’s photo with him when they were little girls. He had been inside one of the stores unpacking some books. Judy and the girls had dropped me off while they went shopping. I was browsing and could not help eavesdropping as some doctoral student peppered McMurtry with questions. He had made a pilgrimage to Archer City to discover the deepest meanings of LONESOME DOVE. McMurtry clearly did not maintain the romantic view of the novel that the student sustained. McMurtry said he wrote it, and that was it—
on to the next project.
I knew that the famous author was tired of dealing with LONESOME DOVE and did not have the sentimental connection that we readers and viewers did. He wanted to focus on unpacking books. The sooner that starry-eyed literature student left him alone, the better. Finally, the student left. Half an hour later, Haleigh and Abby came in to get me.
I debated, briefly in my own mind whether or not I should do this, but I decided to go to the car and get my camera. How many opportunities would I have to take my girls’ photo with arguably the Southwest’s greatest author over the second half of the twentieth century.
I approached Mr. McMurtry, camera in hand, and asked if I could take his photo with my girls. He could not have been nicer. He dropped what he was doing, put his arms around the girls, and smiled as I took two or three shots—just to make sure I got one. He talked with us for a couple of minutes before, wanting to be sensitive to his time, I thanked him and we departed. I’ve still got those photos, I need to scan them.
I read WALTER BENJAMIN again last week. He wrote it about ten years ago. It is excellent. He describes his life, his parents’ life settling in Archer City, and he throws in little tidbits about his life as an author.
He also describes in some detail his love for books and his journey as a book scout. You might guess that I enjoyed that section.
(By the way, the Doctors’ Wives of Tyler had a benefit book sale yesterday. I found 32 gems for a quarter a piece. Hardbacks! I could not believe it, but I digress.)
McMurtry ended his memoir writing about one of the great lessons he learned concerning the fleeting nature of fame and prestige. He was lecturing [one] day at a small college in Uvalde, TX, and during a short break in a daylong effort, while back at his motel for a nap, his agent called and told him he had won the Pulitzer Prize for his novel, LONESOME DOVE.
He writes, “My agent determined to communicate to me the majesty [of winning the Pulitzer.] When I finally got him off the line, my next call was from the motel office: a reporter and a photographer from the local paper were there to get a brief interview and take my picture.”
“The night before, when I drove into Uvalde, the manager of the Holiday Inn where I was staying had written on its marquee: ‘Welcome, Larry McMurtry, Author of Terms of Endearment.’ That had never happened to me before...
“But time waits for no author, not in Uvalde, anyway. As I walked up to meet the press I glanced at the marquee and saw it had already been changed. Now it read: ‘Lunch Special, Catfish: $3.95.’ Even as [my agent] was telling me how great he had made me, my moment had passed. It was a good lesson to be remembered. The Pulitzer Prize was well and good, but there was lunch to think of, and catfish at $3.95 was a bargain not to be scorned. The locals were already flocking to it, and as soon as the needs of the press had been satisfied, I went in and did the same.”
Mr. McMurtry was nice enough to remind me in that passage that even if we gain prestige, we cannot maintain prestige forever. And it is pointless to look to prestige as a source of happiness.
Five things I think I think (a tip of the hat to Peter King for this idea)
1. My prayers go out to the folks at Killeen. Two terrible shootings in 20 years.
2. A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about our ETCA volleyball team and their travails during the playoffs. There is a marvelous article about Morgan Ashbreck, ETCA and Austin Summit in today’s (Friday’s) Dallas Morning News. Columnist Kevin Sherrington talks about Morgan's injury in their volleyball playoff game, her faith response, and the faith response of her teammates and the people of Summit. It is neat to see young lights shine in this world. Here is a link:
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/spt/columnists/ksherrington/stories/110609dnsposherrington.3eb9459.html
2. A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about our ETCA volleyball team and their travails during the playoffs. There is a marvelous article about Morgan Ashbreck, ETCA and Austin Summit in today’s (Friday’s) Dallas Morning News. Columnist Kevin Sherrington talks about Morgan's injury in their volleyball playoff game, her faith response, and the faith response of her teammates and the people of Summit. It is neat to see young lights shine in this world. Here is a link:
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/spt/columnists/ksherrington/stories/110609dnsposherrington.3eb9459.html
If you are interested, the paper edition has a couple of photographs of Morgan while she is injured. I appreciate Morgan’s willingness to share those because they do provide context for the story. I wrote previously in my blog that I have witnessed in my life people who were more badly hurt in sporting contests. However, Morgan’s was easily the worse thing I have ever SEEN at an athletic event. Through it all, she was incredibly courageous.
I have Morgan in Bible class and, of course, she said nothing about the DMN interview—in class or in private. I mentioned this to her mother who told me Morgan is afraid people will tire of hearing about her. When Kevin Sherrington interviewed her, Morgan repeated told him, “This is not about me…. I did nothing but get hurt, so I'm not even the one here that it should be about.” She emailed the Dallas Morning News, again, a photo of ETCA’s team so that the paper will display it with the article.
Morgan is being typically modest. She further demonstrated this in the letter she wrote to Austin Summit. It is beautiful; it makes clicking the link or buying the paper worth it. In it, Morgan really does point toward—God, her coach, her teammates, the people at Summit Christian Academy, and others. We are blessed that they have proven worthy.
3. Great job Randy and Alex York! I am still receiving tremendous feedback on the painting they did during my sermon Sunday morning. I felt confident that they would minister to the visual learners; what surprised me though is how many adults commented they were moved to tears.
4. Can’t wait to hear the BLUE LIKE JAZZ man himself, Donald Miller, Wednesday night at Glenwood. I’ve got to teach my class, then I’ll head over. Hope I can find a place to stand.
5. I may be the only one on the planet who finds this interesting. Youtube has a great archive of interviews with notable people from televisions past. Caught some of the interview with the late Curt Gowdy. Fascinating to hear him relive his life—full of anecdotes. Another favorite is Jim McKay, and there are many more. To find them, go to the Youtube search and type something like this: “Curt Gowdy - Archive Interview Part 1.” This is a marvelous project.
Have a Great Weekend!
2 comments:
You'll eventually see the wisdom of the Mac. The iPhone is just the beginning.
I believe you!
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