On The Bus

Everyone was bowling. The church youth group had swarmed off the bus and into Greenwood Lanes and began donning bowling shoes and selecting their bowling balls. The youth pastor had just ordered the pizzas. This was the youth Christmas party.

Robert was home from the Air Force on leave and had come with his brother to this event. He remembered a few of the kids from when he still lived at home. He hadn’t been away for much more than a year, but he no longer felt a part of this group. He knew he was practically a stranger now.

His brother’s friends accepted him readily enough. He found himself on a bowling team, but not with his brother. This team was still looking for someone to play. Robert saw a girl from the bus already bowling alone.

“Why don’t we get her to play?” asked Robert.

“Her? No,” said one of the guys, “She’s a slut.”

Robert looked at the girl again. She seemed so young. She did have a little too much eye make up on as the so called “sluts” from his high school days would wear, but something didn’t ring true with that blanket assessment in his mind.

He took it upon himself to invite her to play on the team. No one objected, but no one talked to her except Robert.

He found out she was only twelve years old, and after more conversation, he found that she had run away from home more than once. Not wanting to make her uncomfortable by coming off as a counselor of some sort, he continued to talk with her about her likes and dislikes and she seemed to enjoy the bowling.

After that, she stayed close to Robert, and he included her in everything he did.

When the night was concluded and the bus was being loaded, Robert allowed the girl to sit with him in his seat. As he sat with her, he realized that this girl was nothing like “those” kind of girls he knew in school. She had to be lonely and could be trying to reach out for any kind of relationship.

Robert remembered his own lonely moments and took her hand in his. They sat together that way in silence as the bus took them home in the night.

At one point on the return trip, the girl turned to Robert and asked, “Where do you live?”

Immediately, Robert had a picture in his mind of this sweet girl turning up on his doorstep in the middle of the night. “Why do you want to know?”

She didn’t say anything and looked down into her lap.

“It’s okay,” said Robert. “I am in the Air Force, and I’ll be going to Italy in a few days that’s all.”

They continued to sit together until the bus arrived at the church and everyone went their separate ways. It was a brief and shy goodbye, and she was gone.

Robert breathed a small prayer. “Lord, I feel for that girl.”

Chocolate Milk

I remember when my first brother was born. Mom and Dad prepared me for being a big brother. Mom sometimes would tease me about getting a baby sister who would give me slobbery kisses.

There was a plan for when the big day came. I would go home with my grandmother while Mom and Dad went to the hospital.

When the day came, we all took Mom to the hospital including Grandma. When Mom and Dad were getting out of the car to go into the building, I was having serious doubts about the whole thing. I jumped out of the car behind Mom and Dad and cried, “I don’t want a baby sister!”

Well, Grandma took charge of me. I was to go home with her on a train. Grandma was sure that would hold my attention long enough to forget about Mom and Dad and wishing for a baby brother. It did.

It was very early in the morning when we boarded the train. I was so excited that there was no way on God’s green earth I was going to go to sleep. I guess everyone hated me on that train because Grandma always shushed me and the other passengers seemed to be giving me dirty looks.

When the dining car finally opened for breakfast, my Grandma thought at last this was something to occupy her four-year-old grandson. Grandma took me to get some breakfast.

Now the dining car looked just like a restaurant. In fact it looked a lot like the places my parents used to take me when we went out to eat. I used to get A-fries or American fries just like my dad, and have a nice cold glass of chocolate milk.

The waiter came and took our orders and I ordered chocolate milk with my breakfast. The man looked at me and said they didn’t have chocolate milk. I said, “Yes you do have chocolate milk!” For every denial, I insisted there was chocolate milk until the waiter walked away.

My grandma looked at me and gently told me to expect white milk because there was no chocolate milk. I just couldn’t conceive of any restaurant not having chocolate milk. I got chocolate milk at every restaurant I’d ever been, but now I was a little worried.

When the waiter came back with our food, he plunked down a glass in front of me. Low and behold, a glass of chocolate milk! I said, “See, I told you, you had chocolate milk!”

Grandma just smiled because I didn’t know that the waiter had told her that he had gone to the ice cream toppings and mixed some chocolate syrup into my milk to make it chocolate.

After breakfast, we went back to our seats where I immediately became restless again. Grandma sent me to the observation car, which was just up a set of stairs right in front of me. It was fine for a little while, but the sun made me hot shining through the windows. I began to feel a little car sick, so I wandered back to my Grandma.

When we arrived at my Grandmother’s house, I was told that I had a baby brother. Hallelujah!
It wasn’t long before Mom and Dad came to Grandma’s house to show me my little brother. When I saw him, I said, “He’s orange!”

Amy Soup And Troll

I remember when I first got to know my Aunt Amy. It was when she stayed with me during one of many moves my dad made as a minister.

The first day she came, I showed her my room, which contained the rollaway bed I slept in, my clothes and toys, and most precious of all, a record player that I was allowed to operate at four years of age.

I played a record for her called “Do Lord, Do Remember Me” and asked her if it reminded her of Grandpa. (It never occurred to me that it was her dad I was talking about.) I was disappointed when she said no.

After we had been lying on my bed for a few minutes, I turned to her with a grin and told her I would call her Amy Soup. (Now everyone in the family called her Amy Sue because her mother was also named Amy.)

She objected to my name for her and tried to make me feel bad for teasing her, but I insisted her name was now Amy Soup.

“Then I’ll call you Troll!” she declared.

I was both horrified and delighted at the name she had picked for me, which was a play on my name as well. (Troy) I just smiled and said, “Nope, you’re Amy Soup.”

I guess Aunt Amy didn’t know what to think of such a bold kid as myself, but I loved her, and she knew it.

After we had moved, she was still staying with us. I guess she stayed the whole summer.

One day she was watching me as my parents were at work. I grew bored of playing in the yard and told my Aunt I was going to the park. Thinking I was pretending, she smiled and said, “Okay.” I can just see myself balling up my little fist and breathing, “Yes!”

I actually went to the park. My dad had taken me one day, and I remembered how to get there. I even told myself everything my dad had said as we had looked both ways before crossing the street, and I found the park without a hitch.

The park had a variety of puddles. All were in strategic spots, like under the swings and at the bottom of the slide, but I went down the slide and used the swings anyway.

When my mother found me, I was wet from playing, but as we walked back home, she threatened to spank me for wetting my pants. “I didn’t wet my pants!” I cried. Who could tell?

I used to think of that when my son was little. He used to say to me, “I want to go to a nudder one playground!” The puddles under the swings and slide never meant anything to him either.

Secret Agent Man

I have to tell you about one boy in my class at church. As you might remember, I teach second grade boys in a military style.

Well, this one boy in particular seemed to hate coming to my class. He would duck out of the choir class that came first to avoid my class altogether. He would tell me, “I’m not a soldier. I’m playful!” I would ask him to try to do his best with what seemed hard, because we did do fun things too.

One day when this boy didn’t show up for class, I didn’t think much of it because I was by myself that night. Fifteen minutes into class time, an intern brought this boy to my class claiming to have found him hiding in the bookstore. Here he was with a dark jacket and sunglasses on.

To keep from busting out laughing, I smiled and said, “Come on in, 007.” He wanted to know what I meant. I told him he was my secret agent and I named him 007. That appealed to his heart. He began to participate more in class, now that I had recognized him as special. He never ducked out of class again and even brought a friend one night.

I don’t think that boy gets to spend much time with his dad. I’m so glad I handled the situation the way I did.

Men, the boys in your church need you. If their dad doesn’t show them how to be a man, who will?

When the Spirit draws you
It's within reach
When the Spirit calls you
It's not a speech
It's a heart to heart

Truth Or Lie

Don’t agree with the devil’s lie
When no one has spoken
Don’t doubt yourself or reason why
When your heart is broken

You have to know what’s in your heart
To see the true desire
God put it there right from the start
He’s all that you require

A Secret Place

You may be shocked to hear that I have a lover. This morning, I was enticed into the woods near my house. When we were alone, I was told all that I have written below.

Shhh. Listen to the wind and trees sing together. (I stood very still and very near to hear the song.)

I show you my beauty, so you’ll come to me. I want you to take joy and nourishment from the sight of me and desire me.

Embrace me, admire me, and worship me. My beauty will bring you life and healing.

Come away and be with me alone that I might embrace and satisfy you. My spirit is the wind and the song in the trees. We will laugh and play, love and be satisfied.

I will cling to you when you turn to go, because I could hold you close to me for as long as you wished. I will make with you such a memory as to capture your heart and forever draw you back to me.

I am haunted by the memory. Those words are in my heart. Jesus, lover of my soul.

It was the Lord. I am sorry for you if you feel tricked into believing something tawdry, but I had to try and make you understand the basis of a relationship with Jesus.

Oh, that’s not scriptural! Oh yeah? Read Song of Solomon 2:13 and 14.

He doesn’t just have affection for your heart. He is and wants to be your spiritual lover. After all, you’re engaged! You are the bride of Christ. What do you think that party in heaven’s going to be about? It’s your wedding reception, baby!

When was the last time you slipped off with the Lover of your soul? Has your heart turned cold and lost sight of the beauty and mystery of God? Your heart can die and leave you with merely a compulsion to follow the rules. You could be much like what Jesus accused the Pharisees of being.

Look into your heart. Revive its youth and remember the joy and excitement of Love. The Lover of your soul may have been trying to get your attention for a long time, but he is patience and his love for you is as intense as youth itself.

A Veteran's Good Memories

Veteran’s Day brings mostly good memories for me. I went to the Gulf War in 1991. You know, the cool desert war. We freed Kuwait and were gone relatively quickly without many doubts.

I was a decorated war veteran and was qualified for the Postal job I hold now. I’m basically a janitor to provide for my wife, son and daughter. Now you know.

Anyway, my good memories are seeing Denver and the Rocky Mountains in the early spring. Spending two wonderful years in Germany with a couple trips into Austria. There is too much to say about Germany right now.

I was engaged and married and had two children. Those three people are dreams come true for me.

I had the chance to see Panama for a few days, and went to England for a few months where I saw old friends from Germany and a couple castles that impressed me almost as much as Heidelberg.

Watching a squadron of F-16s take off in full afterburner at night in the Oman desert as the heat disappeared from the air was a beautiful site. It helped me to forget the heat and the ever-insinuating sand of that place during the day.

Good friends were with me during dull and happy times. I can’t recall too many sad ones. These friends were there to mourn our departure from North Carolina after six years of being married and becoming parents.

I served my country in the U. S. Air Force for nine years. I did a lot of growing up in that time. It’s a decent life in the military and would be at peace with the idea of my son serving. As for my daughter, on the other hand, I would hope she wouldn’t have to face some of the things that the girls I knew in the military faced.

Remember the fallen on this day. Remember the fallen in the battle we face for eternity. There is a battle going on. It’s fierce and brings many wounds. Catch a stumbling comrade. Get back to back with your brothers-in-arms.

Wyatt Earp And Doc Holiday

My cousin and I were talking about the movie "Tombstone" one day. We both enjoy the movie, but my cousin must get something especially satisfying from it, because he claims to watch it on a regular basis.

He identifies with Wyatt Earp and told me he thought of me as Doc Holiday. I agree with him.

Doc was ready to lay everything on the line to stand with Wyatt. I feel that way about my cousin. He honored me by claiming a spiritual connection between us.

Another story character I relate to is Boromir from the movie "The Fellowship Of The Ring". His desire to rescue his people was so strong, but he could only see his own way of accomplishing it. His desire to use the One Ring, caused him to renounce his rightful king and inadvertently aid the Uruk Hai in coming upon the ring bearer. Once he saw things as they really were after recovering from the thrall of the One Ring, he gave his life to defend the Hobbits from capture. The devil tried to tell me that all I'd ever accomplish with my life was to be like Boromir, but in my heart, I wanted to be Aragorn.

I still do. I want to reforge the sword in my life that was broken. I want to use the kingsfoil to bring healing to my brothers-in-arms. I want to come into the fullness of what God has made me to be.

God promises to bring you completely into who you were born to be. We will be exactly that in eternity. Our desire won't be completely fulfilled in this life, but we will know some measure of it if we allow God to heal the wounds of our heart.