Kentucky wild Catts

I didn't go to church yesterday, which is unusual. I'm always at church. Scott and I spent the day traveling instead. We traveled through four states and this is where I woke up this morning:

Scott said this picture was appropriate with me in it because of the slogan and/or web address. Is he saying I'm wild? I think he meant that as a compliment. ;-)

Anyhoo....

So, back to the church thing. Like I said. I'm always there. Except for yesterday. And even though it is one of the most consistent things I do always and forever, I did not miss it one single bit yesterday. I was even a little giddy as we drove past church after church with cars in the parking lot, thinking to myself "nanny nanny boo boo, y'all are at church and I'm not!"

I think that's a good sign that it was time to take a break from it.

But I made up for it today.

I heard several wonderful men of God speak today. One of them was Michael Catt. He's the pastor of Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, Georgia. They are the ones that made the Fireproof movie (and Facing the Giants and Flywheel).

Oh, oh, oh, what a message.

Here are some highlights:

• Everybody either knows Christ or needs Christ

• Carnal people won't care about lost people. Only spirit filled people will care about lost people

• There is a difference between being just welcomed and truly wanted

• If you're slinging mud, you're losing ground

• A great problem in our churches today is the presence of an absence - the absence of the Holy Spirit.

• Whatever your choice is regarding living in the spirit or not, either way there are consequences.

Wow. He said more in that 30 minute message than I've heard in several months of Sundays. Made me glad I came all this way to hear it.

I'm not going to want to go home.

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called—one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. Ephesians 4:1-6

Miss Daisy's cantaloupe

I bought a cantaloupe this week for 99 cents. Yay! I was so excited because usually they cost two or three times that. Mmmmm, yummy. It’s one of my favorite summertime foods. I bought it at the Piggy Wiggly. Every time I say Piggy Wiggly out loud I always think of Driving Miss Daisy.

Scott and I saw the play at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta a couple of years before it ever became a movie. When it eventually came out on DVD we just had to buy it. It has become one of those movies that we find ourselves pulling quotes from that seem to aptly apply to the clunky state of affairs we often we find ourselves in around here. Like…

“Highway robbry.” (that’s not misspelled, that’s just how Miss Daisy pronounces it.)

Or,

“Now that’s between me and Mr. Werthan.”

And,

“You’re a doodle, mama.”

In the story, Hoke (the old black man) and Miss Daisy (the old Jewish woman) were put into a situation by Boolie (Miss Daisy’s son) where they had to build a relationship that on their own, neither one of them would have chosen. It took Hoke and Miss Daisy a lifetime to learn to get along and really understand each other. I think they tried to accommodate each other without acknowledging that they were being accommodating (I think that’s a Southern thing!). In the end you recognize the great value in their strange and wonderful relationship.

So what does that have to do with my cantaloupe? Well, I didn’t get to eat much of it right away because I had to go to see my own mama. Actually, I went to take my dad to a doctor’s appointment, and my mom is part of that package.

They live in Georgia, about three hours south of here.

Miss Daisy lived in Georgia.

I went to chauffer mom and dad to the doctor.

Hoke was Miss Daisy’s chauffer.

Therefore, I am Hoke.

OK, not really.

I love my parents but I don’t always know what it is that I’m supposed to do for them. I don’t always understand what is it they want or need me to do. Like Miss Daisy, they rarely ever actually come out and say it.

I think it will take a lifetime to learn to get along and really understand each other.

So, I just keep sitting here in the car waiting for the directions. I’ll hear them eventually. And I when I do, I will go. It is, after all, their ride.

In the meantime, my dad still likes to take a spin behind the wheel. Every time I go to their house he always takes me on a golf cart tour around the property to show off all his flowers and trees and fruit and vegetable plants.

You know what I saw on the tour this time?

A cantaloupe vine.

All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away. For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me. John 6:37-38

Oh, my ottoman

Today my friend Linda and I were talking about how when something goes wrong, it is usually not just one something. It often ends up being a whole season of things going wrong. The past month and a half have been that way for me. On top of all the bad news about the economy and all the global distress, my own little world has been spinning way out of my control lately. More than once in the last couple of weeks I have ended up in a snotty bucket of tears just because I couldn't handle one more thing going wrong.

I was so tired of the "What else can go wrong" phase, so tired of the gloom. I needed some relief. Scott has sensed it too and has done a good job at trying to make me laugh.

I think I've mentioned before that Scott has an accelerated propensity for wordsmithing. I mean, he makes up his own words. He has recently come up with a new word for an old piece of furniture. Here's a picture of it.


It currently sits at the foot of our bed. There is a matching chair in the living room, but our bedroom is larger and has more space so that's where it's ended up. It also gets used more in the bedroom. Scott sits on it to put on his shoes and socks. And to take them off. You can see from the picture that it is lower than the bed. The foam cushion on the top is also a little, well, worn. When you sit on it you sink down into it and your knees end up higher than your rear end.

OK, I'll give you a minute to get that picture in your head.

Got it?

Now. That picture is the basis for Scott's new moniker for it.

The Squattoman.

Let me say that again. Squattoman.

Which had me laughing until I was crying. Again.

Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. Luke 6:21-23

What would they say?

I just got back from a funeral. We seem to be surrounded by a lot of that lately. Death, that is. I'm not usually the sad or weepy type at funerals, especially if the one who has passed was a believer in Jesus Christ. I just get homesick for my real home, not this temporary one. It just reminds me that there is eternal hope beyond this life and this crazy world I'm living in right now.

The same thought has plagued me after the two most recent deaths. Selfish as it may be, this was my thought: What did they say about me when they got to heaven and saw Jesus face to face?

Not that I would be their first topic of conversation upon arrival in heaven, mind you. But somewhere after the initial homecoming party when they needed a break from all the singing and dancing and they sat down to chat about all the old home folks. Not that that's even theologically sound, but if it were...what would they say about me to Jesus? What could they say?

Would they tell Jesus that they felt loved by me?

Would they tell Jesus that they knew I loved Him?

Would they tell Jesus that they saw His work in my life?

Would they tell Jesus that they never understood me?

Would they tell Jesus that they wished they had known me better?

Scott sang at the funeral today. The song he sang today, he has sung at countless funerals throughout his ministry. Whenever he sings it, he always gets a few more future requests from others to sing it at their funerals when they go too. If you're preplanning your service, I'm sure he will be happy to add you to the list if you wish.

The lyrics of the song are what I want them to say about me if they see Jesus before I do:

She sings because she's happy, she sings because she's free; she knows Your eye is on the sparrow, and she knows You watch her.

This video is not from the funeral today (actually not a funeral at all); but it's Scott singing the song. I know most of you have probably seen this before, but it's worth watching again.




Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Luke 12:7