HOME FURNISHINGS

Recently we had the opportunity to drive over to Tuscaloosa and help our pastor and his wife move to a new home.  I imagine you could tell a few stories of your own about your moving experiences and may understand our situation.   Although we volunteered to help, and although we love to be able to assist our pastor in “just about” anything he wants to undertake, he almost killed a large portion of his congregation that day. 

I thought I was in pretty good shape and could out-work any man half my age.  But if there had been just one more box, one more piece of beautiful antique furniture that I had to move…I think they would have just had to call the undertaker and let him move me.

We can accumulate a lot of “stuff” in just a very short time.  I guess it all comes from the fact that as days and weeks and months and years go buy we find things we “think” we just can’t do without. So, a chair here, a picture there, a rug, a couch a book shelf…and before you know it, you have an 18 wheeler full of furniture or more arranged, stored, stuffed into the four walls of your dwelling. 

The apostle Paul must have understood the concept of furnishing a home.  In II Timothy 5:17 Paul told Timothy to make sure his house was thoroughly, completely, furnished, now get this, so that he could be a perfect man of God.

Paul wasn’t talking about the place where Timothy “hung his hat”.  Instead, he was speaking about his heart and soul.  Now, I’m sure I will have some who will disagree with me.  I have no desire to debate my next statement with them although  I believe I have significant scriptural evidence to prove this convection.  I believe with all my heart that a pure, clean, perfect God intends, no demands, people who call themselves Christians to be pure, clean and perfect as He is.  That condition, that state, is not set aside for someday nor is it meant only for heaven when we walk the streets of gold, it is meant for the here and now while our feet walk the dirty streets of our cities and towns. 

He has provided a way for that to happen.  Because He is omniscient and knows everything. He knew that you and I would not be able to live a Holy, clean, perfect life by ourselves.  So, thank God, He provided us with a Comforter, a Helper who would be “with us” and “in us” as we negotiate this experience we call life. 

Just like the ocean, if broken down, would be H2O and a tiny drop from that same ocean, if broken down would be the identical H2O, not as big, not as mighty, not as powerful but the same. So we as Christians can be Holy as He is Holy.

I could really get into telling you about the infilling of the Holy Spirit here…but I would be chasing a big rabbit and so I will leave that for another place and time.  For now, let me tell you about a few pieces of furniture that you need to have in your spiritual house.  These items will help you, not only to enjoy your stay but will also help you to be useful in God’s kingdom and be a perfect man of God.

First you will need a good table.

I have plans to build a table soon.  I envision a nice long, rugged, wooden table with long benches on both sides with two chairs that sit at each end.  You know, kind of like a Walton’s family table.  I want to build a table like that for times when our family comes over for Thanksgiving or Christmas or birthdays, we can all sit together and eat together.  It might be more difficult than I first thought however.  Problem?  We live in a very small house with a very small kitchen / dining room.  I think I could build the table.  I think I have the materials on hand now.  But when I get the table built, I don’t think it will fit into the house. I might need to re-think this project. 

A table is where you can sit down and be fed nourishing food that will make your body strong and healthy.  Sometimes the food we eat is not all that healthy but it is enjoyable.  Our spiritual table is the same.  It is there that we sit and feed our souls from the Word of God.  I love it when I can just pull up a chair to the Word and eat until I’m full.  Some of the things I consume are words of wisdom, things that are healthy and will benefit me spiritually, now and in the days to come.  Some of the spiritual food I eat is for my enjoyment.  I leave the table smiling, rejoicing, grinning because I just filled my soul with “comfort food”.  Let me encourage you to make sure you have this great piece of furniture in your house.

You will also need a desk. 

To me a desk is a place to study.  I have spent many an hour at my office, sitting behind my desk studying various plans, policies and procedures.  I think the desk in your spiritual house is a place where you not only read the Word of God but also study the Word of God.  There are so many “helps” available to us today.  Bible dictionaries, concordances, study Bibles and translations abound.  Many great men of God have taken much time to expound on the Word and share their understanding in commentaries.  We miss out on so much that God has for us if we fail to study God’s Word. 

Paul told Timothy to “study to show thyself approved unto God”.  It would be very difficult to be the man or woman God intends for you to be if you do not spend time at your spiritual desk studying God’s will and Word for you.

The last piece of furniture that I want to mention to you is a bed.  I believe for many Christians this is a piece of furniture that is not used as it should be.  Beds are for resting and relaxing.  It is there we gain the strength we need to fight another day. 

Many nights I drag myself to bed, tired, sore and unable to go much farther and after a good nights rest in bed, I'm up and at'em once again in the morning ready to work another day.

 

Many Christians use this piece of furniture way too much.  A hard working, diligent, laboring Christian needs a place to rest.  Jesus Himself said, “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest”.  But that place of rest was for those who actually labor and are heavy laden, not for slackers who sit on their good intentions and don’t work.  (Gospel according to Bill, chapter one).

I have seen good, hard-working, Christian men and women work themselves into the ground and become useless to God or anyone else because they failed to utilize the place of rest.  We need time to rest.  But don’t submit to the trick of the devil to get in bed and stay there.  Rest, then get up and fight again.

These are just three pieces of furniture that you need if you want to have your spiritual house in order and make sure that it is completely furnished.  There are others I am sure. Don’t fail to be the best you can be, with the help of the Holy Spirit by not having your house thoroughly furnished.   

LOST PILGRAMS

If you are 60 years old or older, I don't have to tell you about the pilgrims.  You already know the story of William Bradford and the Puritans or Separatist, later called Pilgrims and how they left England and landed at Cape Cod. You remember how that within the first few months over half of them had died.  You are familiar with how the Indians help by teaching them new ways to farm and raise crops.  And the first Thanksgiving time when they celebrated and worshiped God for His blessing to them.

As a child in school I remember cutting out pilgrims from construction paper and making "place markers" for the people who would be at your Thanksgiving meal.  I especially remember the high black hats and the square buckles that the "men pilgrims" were supposed to wear and the long black dresses, white aprons and white hats that the "lady pilgrims" were supposed to wear. 

I remember gathering with my family and the community on Thanksgiving Day in Calera at a different church each year for the annual Thanksgiving Day service.  Our focus was on "giving thanks to God" for His blessing to us.

But this morning, as Keva and I sat around the breakfast table, I was reminded of something that shocked me. I have always tried to keep the holidays traditional.  We buy those little glass or plastic pilgrim figures at the Dollar Tree and I place them around the house.  We found a cornucopia  and I place it out on the mantel with various kinds of fruits and vegetables. Just stuff to remind us of the Thanksgiving season and it's meaning.

But so far this year I can't find our pilgrims.  I looked in the attic, I looked in the closet, I even looked in the barn....but no pilgrims. I know I'm getting old and forgetful but how could I have lost the pilgrims. We just had them here a year ago.   But I'm reminded that our little pilgrims are not the only ones that have been lost.

Thanksgiving today has almost been overshadowed by the Christmas season.  It's only the 8th day of November and the City of Clanton along with many other cities have already put up their community Christmas tree.  "Happy Turkey Day" is heard all around instead of "Happy Thanksgiving".  To be honest, we have forgotten as a nation and as individuals how to be thankful and Whom we should be thankful to. (I hope that sentence made sense.)  After all, Thanksgiving doesn't "market" nearly as well as Christmas. Basically, we have not only lost the pilgrims from Thanksgiving but we have lost the "Thanks" from our Thanksgiving. 

I'm going to look again this weekend.  I'll go to the storm shelter, I'll dig through some boxes, I'll look under the bed and I will find our pilgrims.  But I'm not as confident about our nation finding our "thanks". 

Hey, do your part this year.  Go on a scavenger hunt and seek out the pilgrims.  Find them and remember their story and then somewhere and sometime this holiday season, give thanks for what the Giver has given you.

MAKING SENSE OF LOVE

I had been doing a little reading and Bible study in the back room.  Softly, quietly an aroma drifted down the hall, past the doorway and into my room.  Immediately I could tell the coffee pot was in operation mode and that coffee was ready to drink. 

Now we are not as advanced in coffee preparation as some are.  We do not have one of those fancy coffee makers that you can fill the night before and program to make your coffee just prior to your waking up in the morning. (Although that might be a good idea for a Christmas gift to myself).  In order for us to get coffee, someone, (and that would be either Keva or myself since Gracie nor the cats neither likes coffee nor are capable of making it) has to go into the kitchen, pour in the water, scoop out the coffee, place it in the coffee maker and hit the button. It takes effort. 

Since the morning was early, I knew I hadn't made coffee.  So the wonderful fragrance drifting down the hallway had to be of her doing.  It had to be by her efforts.  To me, on that morning, it was what loved smelled like.   

 



*******

 

Perrin was spending the night with us.  I had placed some cushions on the floor of the bedroom and a nice warm sleeping bag on top of them for his bed.  He had dropped off to sleep in my big chair and so I cradled him in my arms and gently laid him down on his make-shift sleeping arrangement.  He slept there for a few hours and then I was awaken by his whimper. 

 

I rolled over and saw him hunched down in the floor, with a look on his face that told me he was lost and needed help.  I stepped over to him, scooped him up in my arms and snuggled him in beside me in my bed.  Sometime during the process of going back to sleep he said,

 

"Gwump"?  "Yes, son what is it", I whispered.

 

"Gwump, I wuv you". 

 

"I love you too, Buddy", I said. 

 

To him it was a simply statement.  To me that was what love sounded like.  

 

 

*******

 

My Mama was well known for several things.  One of which was her dried butter beans and corn bread.  Most anyone who ever stayed or visited with "Granny" knew that sooner or later there was going to be a big pot of dried butter beans on the stove and a pone of corn bread in the oven. 

 

If I was going to be at her house at lunch and she knew it, she would inevitably have "butter beans and corn bread" on the table when I got there. 

 

Oh, perhaps not the most elegant meal one could eat.  But to me, it was what love tasted like.  

 

*******

 

Chris and his family live in the old house now.  But when I was a boy it is where we lived.  I could take you back the exact room, the exact place where I used to sleep as a boy.  I can remember on several occasions becoming sick with the maladies that children get.  I'd run fever easily.  You must understand that this was the days before everyone ran to the ER or the "Doc-in-the-box" for their medical problems.  Usually Mom or Dad was the doctor unless it was a problem beyond their scope of training. 

 

It was on such an occasion, as I lay in the bed running a high fever that Dad went into the bathroom, reached up into the old medicine cabinet and took down the bottle of rubbing alcohol.  He would place it in a saucer and kneel down beside my bed.  Then gently he would rub my body with the alcohol.  This was supposed to help reduce the fever. 

 

The thing I remember most about these times is the feel of my Daddy's hands.  They were cracked and rough like dried leather.  Beneath the sandpaper like skin was solid steel, muscles and sinew. How could such rough, dry, cracked, rock hard hands be so gentle?  To me that was what love felt like.  

 

*******

 

I've never physically been there.  I probably couldn't even point toward it. But I've heard the story a million times. A young man, in his early 30's, beaten to within an inch of his life, stripped of his cloths and hanged on a tree.  Not for crimes which he had done but for my crimes, my wrong, my sins.  He suffered there, and died there and at that place and at that time He purchased my salvation and by that single act He provided a way for me to go from here to Heaven, sin free.   To me that is what love looked like. 

 

   



PRAISE HIM HERE LIKE YOU WILL PRAISE HIM THERE

I have consigned myself to the fact that I am a creature of habit.  I do the same thing at the same time every week.  Case in point, every Wednesday, I stop by the church before I go to work for a time of quiet prayer. Then take the cloths to the cleaners, hit the flea market at the cattle barn and then sometime around 9 o'clock make it to work. 

I did that again this week.  The weather was great and as I walked into the sanctuary I noticed how quite it was.  No TV's or radios blaring, no one needing anything, just peaceful and quiet.  I walked down the center isle and noticed that through the window on the East side of the church a beam of sunlight shone through and fell across the altar.  It happened to be in the exact spot where I usually kneel. 

I dropped down on my knees and begin to talk to the Father.  There were several things that I wanted to thank Him for and praise Him for today.

• Our pastor's mom had been miraculously healed and instead of the prediction from the doctors that she had only a month to live, she was now back home doing great. 
• Matt's mom had been in a coma for a week from unknown causes and after much prayer had come out of the coma with a clear mind and doing well.
• A hectic situation at work in which I had lost my employee and had to quickly find another had been rectified
• A financial situation had been satisfied

So I knelt there quietly and under my breath I thanked God and I said "I praise You Lord" and then I stopped......

Was I really praising Him? 

Is this the way praise looks?

Is this the way praise sounds?

The thought came to my mind.  I should be praising Him now like I will be praising Him when I get to heaven.

My attitude on this side of the river should be the same as it will be when I get to the other side of the river.

Praying by faith if praying as if the prayer has ALREADY been answered.

Praising by faith is praising as if you have already received. 

Oh, I'm aware that many times all the praying and praising I can do is to bow quietly in God's presence and weep.  I know that sometimes just to "be still and know" that He is God is what He desires....but there are times we need to be verbal about our praise and our prayers.  There is a place for passion. 

When I stand in that place, before God the Father and Jesus the Son, with the Holy Spirit of God saturating the atmosphere, I don't know how I will behave.  But if I will shout then, I should shout now.  If I will cry then, I should cry now.  If I will praise then and there, surely I should praise Him here and now.

BLOOPER AWARD

I'll admit that most of the stuff I write is supposed to be just a little bit serious.  It may not turn out that way, but it's supposed to be.

That will not be the case here.

Over the desk in my office I have hung a few awards that I have been given over the years.  There is the plaque that I got from the Calera Eagles Football team back in 1980 for "service" given to the Eagles as Athletic Trainer. 

There is one there from the Clanton Jaycees from 1986  which calls me an "Outstanding young man".  I really didn't think I was young back then, but from this vantage point I think they were right, at least I was a young man, not sure how "outstanding I was.

One plaque that always gets attention is a plaque from the Clanton Fire Department.  It is simple enough, just like most plaques.  It says "Presented to Bill Collum 2000, Blooper award.  But on the plaque beside the wording is the gold plated depiction of a donkey's butt.

I've always said that if one could write a book about the funny stuff that happened in emergency services that it would be a best seller.  I know that emergency's are not supposed to be funny...but quite often the things that happen are very funny!  The story of how I received this award is one of those times.

It was mid-winter.  The fire department was accustomed to getting heart attack, stroke, wreck and fire calls during the night.  We were also often awaken from out sleep to "assist a person".  This could be anything from taking a blood pressure, comforting someone who is afraid or picking up someone out of the floor.  That was what this call was all about. 

It seems that an elderly couple had gone to sleep in their separate beds that night.  The tiny little man, we'll call him Pop, slept in his twin bed on one side of the little room.  His, shall we say, "plus -sized" wife, we will call her Mom, slept in her bed across from him.  This arrangement of the beds left a small space between the beds.  It was into this small space that Mom, rolling off of the bed, had fallen into. 

When we arrived, we found her, still face down, clad only in her thin night gown, groaning and complaining. 

"I've been laying here 3 hours", she mumbled.  "He couldn't figure out how to call 911"! It was difficult to hear her clearly because she lay face down in her house shoes her arms at her side pinned between the two beds.

The poor little husband just stood there at the foot of the bed, hands folded looking more like a little boy being scolded by the teacher.

I took a sheet from the bed and covered her.  I knew she must be cold.  It was about that time that the ambulance crew came in.  They always respond to assist.  Charlie, one of the attendants walked into the room, moved toward the lady and promptly stepped on her toe which was now warmly snuggled under the sheet. 

"AW"!, she yelled, "Are you trying to kill me"?

We tried to refrain from laughing at her for her blood curdling yell and at Charlie for dancing around trying not to get on her toes.

This was not my first rodeo.  I had often been called upon to picked up over-weight people.  So quickly I moved into position at the head of the patient telling several of the other guys to fall in along side so we could "hopefully" lift big "Mom" back onto the bed. 

When we were all in place, because I was at the head of the patient and in command of the move, I said, "Ok men, we will lift on three".  I begin to count. "One", the guys were in position.  "Two", they braced for the big lift..."Three" we moved as a well oiled machine.....except.

As I begin my movement to lift "Mom's" head, my left elbow hit a glass of water which had been sitting on the night stand between the beds.  If you have ever watched the old TV show, Six Million Dollar Man you may remember when the hero was supposed to be doing something really fast, the scene would go into slow motion.  There would be a little beeping sound and then the task would be accomplished.

Well, it was sort of like that.  The water glass started to fall, we all stopped lifting and tried to catch it, we moved in slow motion.  The glass hit the top of the night stand and the cold water poured out onto the back of "Mom's" head and ran down into her slippers. 

"Help, I'm drowning", Mom screamed out.  It was over.  No one could lift at all.  We were doubled over laughing at the over sized lady, face down in her slippers, now "drowning" in the ice water.

No, we didn't leave her there.  We regained our professionalism and lifted her back onto her bed.  As we left she was still going on about her stupid little husband, the clumsy ambulance driver and the ......well, you get the idea of the donkey's butt on the plaque now don't you?