2017: A Stafford Review

It's the end of another year.  An eventful year.  An exciting year.  In some ways, an excruciating year.  I won't say I'm glad it's over, but I'm really looking forward to 2018.

With three boys and a dog, life is never dull.  Not for a moment.  Our boys are growing up fast, and our pup is just growing old.  We keep reminding ourselves with a half-hearted attempt at humor that marriage and parenting is not for the faint of heart.  It takes a lot of courage, a lot of energy, and a lot of prayer to make it through life, but we persevere. 

On top of the full-time, life-consuming nature of raising these kids and trying to spend time with each other too, pastoring is still the great adventure of our lives.  If you've never done it, no explanation is sufficient; if you have, no explanation is necessary.  Let me just sum it up by saying that ministry is also not for the faint of heart.  We are glad we know that we are called by God to do this, that we are where God placed us, and that we are fulfilling His will for our lives in Lovelady, Texas.

Additionally, both of us are now serving as officers of the local Parent Teacher Organization.  It in no way equates to a full time job, but as with most things in our life, it is not for the faint of heart.  And for our involvement in PTO, there is no end in sight, at least not for the next dozen or so years.  And then there's going to be sports and clubs and concerts and trips and all sorts of activities our kids will enjoy...but let's not get ahead of ourselves.  PTO has been a great way to interact with community, when not trying to keep the stirred pot from spilling over! 

This has been a year of great sacrifice on many levels in our lives, but also a year of great rewards.  Our faith has been stretched, our joy threatened, our hope drained...only to have it all renewed repeatedly as we trust in the Lord with all our hearts and lean not to our own understandings.  The Lord continually demonstrates Himself faithful in taking care of us as His children, of meeting our needs and answering our prayers, even if He doesn't always do it the way we ask or even expect.  But He's a good God who gives good gifts to His children, and we are glad to be part of His family!

So all that being said, here is our year, in brief review:

We went to church.  A lot.

We changed a lot of diapers, and cleaned up a lot of messes. 

We went to a lot of meetings.

We made a lot of new friends.

In March we took the boys to Oklahoma to visit Nana & Papa for Spring Break, and while there were given a surprising announcement.  After fifty years of preaching, 32 of them spent as a pastor, Papa Ray Paschen decided the time had come for him to retire.  It took a little (not a lot) convincing, but they decided to emigrate to the great state of Texas, and thus began the great adventure of finding them a place to live in Lovelady and moving them into it!

In April we built (yes, built) our garden and April and the boys spent the spring and summer growing vegetables with varying degrees of success.  Nana and Papa came for a house-hunting visit and found nothing, but in May the perfect house for them was put up for sale, right in the heart of Lovelady.  After we saw it, April called her dad and told him, "Dad, you need to buy this house."  He made an offer that night, sight unseen, and after a bit of haggling, it was accepted.  So in June, he completed his service in Ardmore, Oklahoma, and they became our house guests for the summer while the acquisition of a home was underway.

The summer was hot and stretched on through most of October with no significant events.

In August we got the heavy rains of Hurricane Harvey.

In September we moved Papa and Nana into their new house, and one or more of the boys have spent every weekend over there ever since. 

Fall was practically non-existent, unless you count the cold front that came through at Halloween. 

In October, our church gave us a special Pastor Appreciation Gift--box seat tickets to the Houston Symphony to see Handel's Messiah at Christmas.  That's something Casey can cross off his bucket list!

In November, we hosted Thanksgiving at our house, having as dinner guests both sets of our parents, April's cousin and husband, a family from our church, and one of the new pastors in town.

And in December we celebrated Christmas in similar style, but with our entire immediate family now living in close proximity, we mixed things up a bit.  We had Christmas Eve Morning at church with our church family that we love so much.  We had Christmas Eve at Casey's Mom's house, everyone attending, along with a few extras.  We had Christmas Eve together at home after the kids went to bed.  We had Christmas Morning as a family under our own tree.  And we had Christmas afternoon with Nana & Papa, and everyone else, in their new house!

Only one more item of note to report:  Everyone keeps asking if we are going to try to have another kid, especially attempting a girl.  We have three boys and are very happy with the size and content of our little family.  So we decided to make permanent arrangements to prevent the arrival of any more babies.  That will happen after the first of the year.  And in related news, Stafford Number Four is arriving in July!  Guess we didn't make the arrangements soon enough.

Why I Read the Bible...again and again and again

I spent the early part of the year following a reading plan that focused on the New Testament, the Book of Romans especially, as I have spent a year teaching from Romans on Wednesday nights.  I've also spent quite a bit of time harmonizing those Old Testament passages in Kings, Chronicles, and the Prophets that deal with the last days of Jerusalem before it was destroyed by the Babylonians.  I've spent some months reading a chapter from Proverbs each day.  I've worked my way through Genesis and the Psalms a couple of times.  I'm always in the Gospels because of my preaching on Sunday mornings.  But on November First, I returned to an old, familiar habit--reading the Bible through in 60 days to finish out my year.

It's not that hard, really, if one is willing to set aside the time for it.  There are 1189 chapters in the Bible, some of them long, some short.  At 20 chapters a day, the Bible can be read in two months time.  For me, that means about two hours of uninterrupted reading.  I've done it a couple of times in the last three years.  One time, six years ago now, I endeavored to read the Bible through in a month--40 chapters a day.  I read about half of the Bible the first month I tried; much less the second month; but in the third month I succeeded.  Most days I devoured 40 chapters, but if I missed a day, that meant I had to make up for it the next by reading twice as much.  Fortunately, I had nothing much else to do at the time and could spend the hours most people work at a full time job reading the Bible.

What's the point of all that reading? someone asked.  Why rush through that rich library of God's Word?  You can't possible absorb everything you read.  And what about studying?  Shouldn't you study the Word of God rather than just read it?  As to this last question, I say without reservation, "Yes, you should!"  That's why I do both.  I read AND I study.  I try to read large amounts of the Bible on a regular basis, and study it in smaller portions, both for my own benefit and for my preaching.  But I have also found great benefit in the copious reading of the Scriptures.

For instance, when one is on a yearly-reading program, it requires one to read about three and a half chapters a day in order to finish in 365 days.  So if one begins in Genesis 1, spends basically nine months wading through the Old Testament, and the last three months of the year in the New, by the time you get to Revelation 22, you might not remember that you read similar things in Genesis and Exodus.  If, on the other hand, you just read Genesis and Exodus a couple of weeks ago, you might see the connections a lot easier.

When I'm reading large amounts of Scripture at a time, I usually try to break it up into segments taken from each division of the Bible.  This time it looks something like this:  7 or 8 chapters a day in the historical books of Genesis through Esther; 4 chapters a day in the Wisdom literature; 4 or 5 chapters a day in the Prophets; 2 chapters a day in the Gospels and Acts of the apostles; and 2 or 3 chapters a day in the Epistles.  Because of my weekend schedule, I usually end up reading a little extra during the week and a little less on Saturday and Sunday.  In this way, I intend to read the whole Bible through by December 31st.

So why, one might ask, do you read the Bible like that, over and over and over again?

I read the Word of God over and over and over again because it is the bread by which my spirit is fed.  Jesus quoted the Mosaic Law when He said, "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God."  If I want a strong and healthy Spiritual life, I need to condition to myself to feasting well on the pages of Scripture.

I read the Word of God over and over and over again because it is living.  It doesn't change, and cannot be changed, because though grass withers and flowers fade, the Word of God remains the same forever.  But it is definitely alive, and it grows inside of me.  It provides life-giving truth, and where one passage might speak one way to my soul on one occasion, it often speaks another way on a different occasion.  Reading through the Bible should never be the same way twice.

I read the Word of God over and over and over again because it is powerful and sharper than any two edged sword.  When let loose in a person's life, the Word of God divides flesh from Spirit, divides meat from bones, and reveals the issues of the heart.  When I hear Moses and David and Isaiah and Jesus and Paul all saying the same thing in one day, because I have been in them all, it makes me sit up and pay attention to what the Lord is trying to speak into my life on that particular day.  The Word of God works in our lives, if we'll spend time in it, and let it spend time in us.

I read the Word of God over and over and over again because it IS the Word of God, and it is the best way to get to know Him personally.  He reveals Himself in His word--His nature and character and values and desires and commandments and will.  To know the Word is to know the Lord.

I read the Word of God over and over and over again because it is the Sword the Spirit uses to do battle on my behalf in the heavenly realms.  It is the weapon of my warfare against every wicked scheme of the devil.  He is deceptive and seductive and completely destructive in everything he says and does.  But with the Word of God as my offense and defense, the Spirit can employ it through proclamation and prayer to defeat him in my life.

I read the Word of God over and over and over again because it never fails to teach me something new.  As I continually read and reread again and again, I see different things at different times that apply to the ever-changing nature of my life.  I find answers to my questions, guidance for my steps, direction for my decisions.  I receive strength and encouragement and help in present time of need, help I would not have if I had not been in the Word.

A stranger on a plane asked me one time, "Why do you keep reading that book?  If you've read it once, don't you already know what it says?'  To which I replied, "I keep reading it, over and over and over again, because it has more to say than any other book.  And I want to know what it says!"

The Source

As I've said many times before, I was a precocious adolescent reader, usually wanting to appear more intelligent and more mature than I actually was.  That being said, I really did enjoy reading these big books.  I became acquainted with James A. Michener in my childhood due to the television mini-series Centennial which originally aired in 1978-79, and again in the following TV season.  Thereafter, it was shown periodically on TBS in the 1980s, from which we recorded on VHS.  In the  early 2000s, we bought it in VHS format, and then in this decade we bought it on DVD.  Needless to say, we really liked the 26-hour epic.  When I was twelve, I finally convinced my mother to let me read the novel, 969 pages (or somewhere thereabouts) in length.  Took me six weeks to do it.  And when I was finished, I wanted more!

I read Chesapeake, followed by The Covenant, Poland, and Space, enormous historical epics that dealt with issues across the centuries and generations of its character families.  I devoured each one hungrily, reading every page, but I have to admit I didn't grasp even a fraction of meaning from any of them.  The only one my mother forbid me to read was Hawaii, because she had seen the movie in her own teen years and thought it was a little to sensual of a story for me to read.  She was probably right.  I read Texas as soon as it was published in 1985, but I kept after her to let me read Hawaii.  In the meantime, my favorite teacher suggested I read The Source.  It wasn't until the summer of 1987--when I was almost fifteen--that I finally tackled these two.  I'm pretty sure I read Hawaii first, and then in August 1987 I bought my own paperback copy of The Source.  I've read it perhaps a handful of times in the last 30 years, but picked it up again a couple of months ago for fresh look at this fascinating novel.

The Source is a tale spanning the history of humanity from the earliest days of civilization to the present day (1964 in the case of this novel).  Its setting is a small village in what became northern Israel, fixed on a trade route between the Mediterranean and the Galilee, between Egypt and Damascus, and beyond.  Its characters are the descendants of a cave dweller named Ur, joined by the nomadic Hebrews and their assorted Jewish descendants.  Its primary plot is one of religion, the origins and expansion of Canaanite paganism, Hebraic monotheism, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, told reasonably evenhandedly by the likely agnostic and certainly humanistic author.  And the structure of the novel is built upon a modern archaeological dig examining the Tell Makor--an unnatural hill beneath whose surface lies the many levels of civilization that occupied the site.  In the opening chapter, the archaeologists dig two trenches down through the layers, uncovering 15 artifacts that become the basis for each successive chapter of the story.

It is an exciting and enlightening rampage through history, hitting the major cultural peaks that defined that part of the world throughout human habitation.  From the primitive farmer who intentionally planted the first wheat field, moved out of the cave into a rock hut, teased a wild dog into an unlikely friendship, and became aware of the existence of the spiritual forces it interpreted as God, to the Canaanites who turned that fledgling awareness into polytheistic rituals of seedtime and harvest, sex, and sacrifices by fire.  From the Hebrew patriarch who led his tribe out of the wilderness by the command of God and conquered the land by His power and the edge of the sword, to the many tribes who untied themselves under the psalmist and shepherd King David.  From the ancient engineer who devised and dug the underground tunnel to the community well that would give the city water to sustain them through times of siege, to the divinely inspired prophetess who foresaw the Babylonian captivity and took radical steps to perpetuate the purity and sanctity of her family until their return long after she was dead.  From the fierce faith of the Jews who began the Maccabean revolt against Syria, survived the madness of King Herod the Great, and faced the wrath of Roman Emperors, to the determined rabbis who studied the Law of Moses, assembled the Hebrew Scriptures, and wrote the voluminous explanations of the Talmud in order to preserve the Jewish people during their centuries-long dispersion.  From the desert dawn and spread of Islam to the well-intentioned but ill-fated European crusades to retake Jerusalem for Jesus Christ.  From the Spanish Inquisition, German Ghettos and Russian pogroms that drove the Jews from their adopted homelands, to the rise of Zionism that gave birth to the modern state of Israel.  All of this culminated in the explosive and miraculous war for Israeli Independence which saw the final set of characters moving into the positions where we found them at the beginning of the archaeological dig--a Catholic scholar searching for truth, two Jewish freedom fighters longing for life and love but trapped by the forces of their nation and their religion which will keep them apart, and a Palestinian with a deep awareness of his own people, their long and storied history, and how they managed to survive it.

I laughed and wept and cringed my way through 1088 pages, and walked away with an understanding of the nation of Israel, the Jewish people, and their Judaism that I have never had before.  It is at times thrilling, at times terrifying, at times a tremendous examination of both the human and the divine.  I sympathized with the ancient patriarch Zadok who truly loved his God, but struggled with complete obedience to His will; with Jabaal the Hoopoe who worked so hard to accomplish great things for his kingdom, only to be abandoned by his wife, mocked by his contemporaries, and forgotten by the king he had faithfully served; with Gomer the prophetess who preached a difficult message to an unyielding people, who made the hardest decisions of all.  I grieved with Yigal and Beruriah, who paid the highest price in defending their homeland against the Roman conquest; with Rabbi Simon Ha-Garzi, God's Man, as he was driven by bigotry from the land that he loved; with all of those persecuted Jews the world over who suffered so much at the hands of those who loved their same God.  I experienced the Crusades, inwardly protesting the merciless and ignorant Crusaders who blazed a path of destruction and death across two continents in the name of Jesus Christ, indiscriminately killing Jews, Christians, Muslims, and Pagans, for all of whom Jesus died to save.  I relived the horrors of the Babylonian, the Roman, and the Mameluke sieges of the little town, fearfully anticipating the final assaults that would result in so much slaughter.  

I didn't necessarily appreciate Michener's perspective that all religion has its origin in the human imagination.  Like those Jews and Christians of which he wrote, and yes, even those Muslims, I believe that there is only One God, and that He has interacted with mankind throughout our history to bring us into relationship with Him.  I am puzzled by Michener's lack of focus on anything related directly to Jesus Christ.  While I consider his presentation of the church's actions throughout the story accurate to their times and circumstances, I think it's unfortunate that Christianity is solely represented by the historical Catholicism that made a mockery of the true gospel, strove to exterminate the Jews throughout the world, and often joined itself to Islam and godless paganism in order to accomplish those purposes.  In the end, he reveals a legalistic Judaism that is unmerciful and completely lacking in compassion upon which the modern state of Israel was built, a Judaism that could have and should have found its fulfillment in the love of their long-awaited and ultimately-rejected Messiah Jesus Christ.  But he also revealed the hatred heaped upon the Jews as God's Chosen People, hatred at the hands of those who ought to love.

For me, the most personal and deeply moving moment of the book came toward the end, when a confrontation between orthodox Rabbinical Judaism and modern Zionist nationalism explodes in the accidental relationship of Rebbe Itzik of Vodzhe and Ilana Hacohen the Jewish sabra.  The old man wants a Judaism governed by the Law without the encumbrances of a national homeland; the young woman wants a free Jewish state without the restrictions of a religion she no longer adheres to.  In the heat of their debate, she strikes a wig from the Rabbi's wife, revealing a baldness that is imposed by a centuries' old tradition, symbolizing what she considers the invalidity of the Jewish religion.  But after the apologies are made and the girl starts to leave, the old rabbi and his wife draw her to their Passover table and demonstrate the true heart of their religion and their personal devotion to the God they serve.  That she dies in the Israeli fight for Independence and the old rabbi survives to see all of his fears of a Jewish state come true serves in contrast to make the message even more poignant.  Faith is about your personal relationship with God, not your adherence to a religious structure.

All in all, The Source is a terrific tale of the first rate, informational, inspirational, and incredible story-telling at its finest.  And one day in a decade or so, I may read it again.

Compassion

Jesus was a man of compassion.

He was moved with compassion for the sick (Matthew 14:14; 20:34; Mark 1:41), and He healed them.

He was moved with compassion for the demonized (Mark 8:22), and He delivered them.

He was moved with compassion for a widow who had lost her son (Luke 7:13), and He raised that son from the dead.

Jesus told parables that demonstrated compassion through forgiveness (Matthew 18:27), helping others in need (Luke 10:33), and restoring those who have repented (Luke 15:20).

Twice, Jesus was moved with compassion for a hungry crowd which had been listening to Him preach.  Both times, He asked for what food was available, and taking fish and bread in hand, he blessed it, broke it, and through a miracle of multiplication fed thousands with a single sack lunch.  (Mathew 15 & Mark 6).

And twice, it is specifically noted in the gospels that Jesus' compassion was directed at the people who came to him because they were like sheep without a shepherd, weary and scattered, leaderless, directionless, and lost.  One time, Jesus welcomed them to Himself and began to teach them and heal them (Matthew 15:32; cf. Luke 9:11). The other time, Jesus commented on the ripened harvest of souls and the need for workers in the field; then He proceeded to send the twelve out with the commission to preach the  kingdom, heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, and cast out demons (Matthew 9:36-10:8).

Jesus did not commission His church to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and house the homeless.  Neither did He command us to eliminate poverty and rectify inequality.  Jesus compassion was not directed at the social ills of society, but rather at the Spiritual needs of all people to be saved.  Neither was it expressed through feeding programs and homeless shelters.  Jesus' compassion resulted in preaching that called for conversion and power that resulted in miracles.

The ministry of the Word, accompanied by demonstrations and manifestations of supernatural power, is how the church truly fulfills its mission.

So let us also be men and women of compassion...declaring to the fallen people of Adam's race that Jesus saves!

Fare Thee Well

I remember the first time we met.  It was late autumn or early winter, at twilight, twenty six years ago.  I was standing under a tree singing with friends when you walked into my life, and my heart was knit instantly to yours.  Who can explain these kinds of things, when kindred souls find and immediately gravitate one to the other?  But for more than the span of my adult life, you were a major force in it.

You accepted me into your heart, into your home, into the bosom of your family.  Because of you I had kith and kin I would not otherwise have known.  The hours we spent together, the love and laughter we shared, the food we ate, the games we played, the long and serious conversations we had...these are among my most cherished of memories, and I will never forget them.

Your friendship provided comfort in difficult times, peace and hope when things looked so bleak.  Your sense of humor brought laughter to a troubled and sometimes saddened soul, your wisdom lent advice to the occasionally wandering and lost spirit.  Your honesty and practicality taught me valuable lessons about truth and life.  Your shining example of Christ-like womanhood fueled my hopes and my prayers.

You were in many ways the best friend I had during my young adulthood.  I don't know why, but I know it to be true.  You were a counselor, a mentor, a companion and friend.  I loved you.  I remember the first time I said it, on the phone that day I called you after your most difficult loss.  I said it to you, and you fumbled for words, not knowing how best to respond.  I'm thankful for the years that we had to grow together in that love and friendship.

You gave me so many wonderful gifts in life, it would be impossible to list them all.  But most especially are the ten special vests and ties that you made with your own hands for me.  I wore one last week,  just so that I could remember you again.

It seems almost impossible to put into words the pain I feel at losing you.  This separation was never my choice.  Beyond our control were the miles and the years between us.  I saw you as much as I could, but I never knew that the last time would really be the last time.  You never got to see the greatest joys of my life, hear the most thrilling stories.  I hope that your memories of me were ones of the happy times we shared, and not the heartaches we encountered later.

I remember the last time we met.  It was an afternoon in springtime, and we went for a walk together in the sunshine.  We caught up, we laughed together.  I think I cried.  It was wonderful to know that I still had a place in your heart, in your life for me, that you still felt for me what I had always felt from you.  I wish I had known that the last time would truly be the last time.  Perhaps I would have said more to let you know just how important you were to me.

And now you're gone for good, and I'll not have another chance to see you, to say what I feel for you, to enjoy the warmth of your company.  I cannot even grieve as I would have liked, surrounded by all those who love you and are thankful that you passed this way.  It is entirely my loss, and I mourn alone.  But I am grateful for the years of friendship that we shared, and I look forward to the next time we meet on Heaven's bright side.  Until then, let me just say...

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

when sorrows like sea billows roll,

whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

"It is well, It is well with my soul!"

And I know it is also well with yours.

Farewell, my friend, my other Gramma, my DoDo, my Ol' Gal!

Doris Mae Fish Witmer

(1921-20017)