Six Months of Miracles!

Happy birthday Gwyneth. Although it's only 6 months and not a year, you've lived what already seems like a lifetime of experiences. And you really don't even know it.

You bring us tremendous joy and gratefulness to our Creator.

Maybe the rest of us can eat a cake for you...

Since you haven't yet named me...

Your Grandfather L.

(The two posts that follow relate to Gwyneth's birthday, too.)

(Bump) Surgery, Delivery, Recovery

(With today being Gwyneth's six month birthday, I've gone back and recalled what I wrote that day. We have much to celebrate! This post and the one below were from that day.)

They took Tricia down to OR just before noon. We got a call just after 1:00 that the tracheotomy went well and that she was stable. However just a couple of minutes later we were told that they were proceeding with the C Section. So we all rushed down to the surgical floor to join Nathan.

The wait seemed like forever, but about 45 minutes later the OB doctor came in and said the C Section went well and that Tricia seemed stable. The wave emotion that swept over us was huge. Lots of tears. Prayer of thanksgiving.

The baby weighs about 1 lb. 6 oz. She's been intubated and is in NICU. We've seen a picture the doc took on his blackberry. She's tiny, but has hair on her head!

Tricia's been taken back to ICU where they're tweaking her ventilation. For the time being she's kept under sedation and paralysis to keep her still. Her pulmonary doc met with us a few minutes ago and told us what took place. There were about 75 people in the OR and he said they all did their jobs well.

He also said Tricia's chances of survival from this are still "iffy" at best.

Nathan seems to be doing OK now. It was tremendously emotional for him, as you can imagine. He's been in to see Tricia. Later we'll get a visit from someone in NICU to update us on Gwyneth's status.

So please, if you're part of the prayer effort, don't stop now. Both mother and child are critical at this point. But all of us here know that all the prayers helped us get through this.

And the doc was wrong about who was in the OR. There was One he missed.

(Bump) In the vise

(In celebration of Gwyneth's six month birthday, this is a re-post of what I wrote shortly before Tricia went to surgery for a tracheotomy and the result was an emergency C-section. A lot has happened in six months...)

In a few minutes they'll be taking our daughter-in-law down to surgery to intubate and ventilate her, hoping for a few more days before delivering her baby girl. My son just came out to the little waiting room where we're gathered. He looked at Gail and I - "Tricia wants to talk to you."

She and Nathan have to make a choice just in case. If it comes down to saving one or the other, which one will it be? Never in all my life have I had to make a decision like that. In all my experience as a pastor and a public safety chaplain never have I had to advise anyone about such a decision. And now my son and his wife are asking us for assurance they're doing the right thing.

Our hope, and all indications are, that such a decision won't have to be made. But it is their choice, not the doctors'. And they've made the choice. She just needed assurance from us.

I can't describe the emotions I felt in that ICU room a few minutes ago. She asked me to pray. I gave it a feeble effort, I'm afraid. But earlier today God led me to this passage from Romans.

"In the same way the Spirit also joins to help us in our weakness, because we do not know what to pray for as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with unspoken groanings. And He who searches the hearts knows the Spirit's mind-set, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God". (8:26-27 HCSB)

Again, like my previous post, I've always believed what those verses say. I've just never had to rely upon them like I just did.

A Proposal for NCDOT: Rename NC 12

I offer the following proposal to the NC Dept. of Transportation and Sen. Marc Basnight:

Proposed - that NC 12 ("the beach road") be changed to PA (as in Pennsylvania) 12, and be open only to cars with PA tags. This will alleviate much of the congestion and danger on US 158 for the following reasons:

1. The speed limit on NC 12 is 35MPH. That is the maximum speed Pennsylvania drivers attain on 158, slowing everyone else down. They'll be far more comfortable on the beach road. Life for the rest of us will be able to proceed at a normal pace.


2. There are only two lanes on NC 12. This means the number of left turns across 4 lanes of traffic, U turns and even 3 point turns on the bypass will be curtailed significantly. There is no turn lane in the middle of the beach road to confuse them. However, I am concerned that the bike path might be viewed as another traffic lane.


3. There are fewer restaurants and retail outlets to cause them to slow down and gawk at. Such distractions make for hazardous driving conditions.


4. By renaming it PA 12 the Keystone State would then be responsible for providing law enforcement and maintenance. Less taxes for us!

If you are a local here on the OBX and have some other great reasons to support the change, please let me know.

Believe it or not, after I wrote this, I was driving down NC 12 this morning and had to slow down because the car in front of me was, shall I say, driving below the speed limit. Guess what state they were from? It had to be.

For stress free driving along North Carolina's Outer Banks...

Sunday Flashback

With this being July 4th weekend I asked three of our other pastors to tag team today and bring a message on Freedom. They gave Scriptural applications about freedom from family stress, financial stress and forever stress. Good job Tom, Burnie and Steve.

The place was slammed today, especially at 9 o'clock. And I know that if we're packed in the worship gathering, our nurseries and kids church gatherings are slammed, too. We gotta get that upstairs finished to give them more room!!

Geoff Moore's rendition of The Who's "I'm Free" started things off. If you can remember 1969 you might recall that song. It rocked. Seriously. And it was fun for our drummer Chris, who actually was with a band that opened for them in '68. The cowbell was awesome, Andy. [After just watching a couple of videos of The Who performing that song "back in the day" I now understand why they destroyed their guitars at the end of their concerts. Our band's was a much improved version.] The other songs related super with the day's theme and points of the message. In the middle was "Hosanna" (Hillsong United); "Mighty to Save" (Hillsong); "Give Me Jesus" (Jeremy Camp's rendition of an old Negro spiritual) and they closed out with "I Am Free" (John Egan). It was all good!

In between the gatherings I got a phone message that Paul, one of our senior members, slipped into eternity this morning. So, after welcoming everyone in the second gathering I ran over to their home and had prayer with his widow and family. They were sad he was gone but at the same time so happy for him. Paul had suffered a stroke years ago and had other complications that made life tough for him and Jan. But he love the Lord and lived with joy. A celebration of his life will be Wednesday afternoon at NHC at 4:00.

Tonight was our Communion Fellowship! It was my turn to lead the communion. I took a look at Jesus' mission, which He shared after convincing the tax collector Zaccheus to come down from the sycamore tree and have lunch with Him. Those who witnessed this were critical. Z was a sinner, after all! But Jesus set them straight: "I've come to seek and to save the lost". So if that was Jesus' mission, shouldn't it be ours as well. That's what the cross was about.

We're seated at tables, so I asked everyone to use the meal time to share their "sycamore tree" experience with one another. I heard some great testimonies from those at my table. I also asked the band to do their songs "unplugged" tonight. We heard a new song from them: "Lead Me to the Cross" (Hillsong United). Are they replacing Chris Tomlin as Nate's preferred composers? Just asking.

One of our men asked me tonight what he could pray for me about tomorrow. Great question, and one I appreciate being asked. My answer? "That no one else dies for a while". These last nine days have been pretty heavy in that department for me.

Oh yeah. I got to meet Lynsey today. She's from MD and on vacation here and actually reads my blog! And my old bud Lew from Chesapeake was in church (also on vacation). We'll get together for lunch and talk about old times and new things God is doing in our lives.

Great food tonight, too! We had a "luau". Somehow pineapple found its way into a lot of dishes.

Just two things

Love God.
Love your neighbor.

Can it really be that basic?

If so, how can we make it so complicated?

Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death!

No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve.

This is no time for ceremony. The questing before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love?

Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging.

And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves.

Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope.

If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?

Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us.

The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

Patrick Henry

March 23, 1775

St. John's Church, Richmond, Virginia

The Steps We Take

I'm not normally up at 2:30 in the morning. That's certainly not my choice - I'd rather be getting my beauty rest. God knows I need it.

He also knows a whole lot more than I do. That's why He's God.

At 1:00 Gail heard the phone ringing. I woke to hear her say, "Yes, he's right here." (Where else would I be?) It was the hospital - actually one of our church family who works in the ER - calling to see if I could come and help a mom and dad whose 17 year old daughter just died of heart failure.

So, at 2:30 I've just returned from watching another set of parents weep as they caressed the body of their child and said goodbye. For me, this is the 4th death in less than a week where I've been called upon to respond. I've known none of them. Three have been minor children.

As I walked in the house a few minutes ago I was asking God, "Why am I seeing so much sadness this week? Why am I up at 2:30?" You see, I'm a believer in the sovereignty of God - that He's in control and that even though I may not have the answers to the "Why?" questions, He does.

"Since I'm not sleepy I'll check on my blog and others until I can get back to sleep." And on my last post there was this one comment: "I know you guys are praying folks and I am asking you to pray for my little CF buddy. Here is his story: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/anthonyv. He is- at this moment--undergoing a double lung transplant due to CF. He is 12 yrs old. I was one of his teachers and have known him since he was 5 yrs old."

Exactly 3 months ago I was awake at 2:30 in the morning sitting in a waiting room at Duke while Tricia was receiving her transplant. Been there, done that.

Now I know why. At least to one question.

One size fits all?

Today I visited another culture. I didn't travel across a national border - just crossed a bridge. My venture into that culture was to attend a funeral service.

Maybe I should use "sub-culture". Nonetheless, the traditions that shaped the service were similar in some ways, yet very different in others from my own sub-culture.

In our county are at least 4 sub-cultures - probably more. Two are defined by geography. Two are more defined by race. We cross paths and inter-relate and integrate in much of life. And in some churches (the most segregated place in the country) we mix. But accomplishing that is a stretch for many because our cultural heritage strongly determines our preferences.

Would the service I attended today be attractive to the culture in which I live? Likely not. I looked around at other people around me who looked like me and could tell they were witnessing new ways of mourning and worship. There were times some from my culture would have found it disrespectful and irreverant. It was loud; it was emotional; it was joyful; it was often exuberant; it was a bit longer in time than a typical funeral in my culture. (Ed and Edith would have been very uncomfortable.) Yet it connected with its own culture in very obvious and powerful ways.

On more than one occasion I've been privileged to travel to other countries and experience worship in their cultures. Caribbean black churches. Central American hispanic churches. Canadian Native American churches. South African white and black churches. None were quite like my culture/my church. Different traditions; different songs; different feel. But they connected with their cultures.

Isn't that how it's supposed to be? Different yet accomplishing the same goals.

The church I lead and serve exists to reach the culture in which God has placed us. We have focused our mission on our culture. While everyone is welcome, not everyone would relate and connect to what we do. If I tried to take our style, music and methods of worship and preaching into the church I visited today it would be politely endured, but wouldn't connect.

And that's OK. Paul understood this very well, and when changing cultures he readily adapted his style of evangelism to match the culture.

When it comes to churches one size doesn't fit all. Let's not convince ourselves that it does. Does this mean that the church should be segregated? I hope not. If so our church is failing. That tells me that as important as culture is to defining a church, it's not the only thing.

Does the culture of your church look like the culture of your community? Does it fit? If not, is it time to find the right size and for the church to go shopping for a new pair?

Guest Blogger: Prodigal Jon

Trying To Look Cool at Church.

The blog is called "Stuff Christians Like" and is always tongue in cheek and funny, but also consistently strikes a nerve. The blogger is a young guy in advertising who is a member of one of America's great churches.

Hope you enjoy it. But don't read it if you can't stand someone poking fun at us.