I know it all. I just can't remember it simultaneously.

HAPPY REFORMATION DAY!

It was on October 31, 1517 that Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the church in Wittenburg, Germany. Back then the church doors served as the community bulletin board and ol' Marty just wanted to get a public discussion going about what he saw as some of the abuses within the Roman Catholic Church. He was a priest and a professor at the church university in Wittenburg. Never trust professors to act responsibly. But count on the administration to bop 'em on the head. Thus was the Protestant Reformation born. And in the category of "last laugh," Martin married a really good looking nun named Katharina von Bora who escaped from a convent, and they lived happily ever after.
Thanks, Martin. You were a brave and principled man, and Christians today enjoy the blessings of your faithfulness.

Adam & Eve had the ideal marriage. He didn't have to hear about all the men she could have married and she didn't have to listen to him go on about his mother's cooking.

We have friends back in Grand Rapids whose 16-year old daughter has suffered most of her life with serious seizures. The meds she takes to control (not eliminate) them have side effects only moderately less problematic than the seizures.
After a lot of testing it was determined that Samantha's (Sam's) seizures are of a very specific type that can be treated with a surgery that they perform at a hospital in Detroit. So Tuesday morning the neurosurgeons will remove a pre-determined portion of Sam's skull and place a grid of sensors on her brain. They leave the brain exposed for the next three days so that Sam, without any of her meds, can have lots of seizures. The grid of sensors will detect the specific spots on/in her brain that are misfiring. Then Friday they'll remove the grid and do microscopic surgery to kill those tiny parts of her brain.
If the surgery goes well Sam will live the rest of her life seizure free, and as a result be able to go off the meds. The doctors are optimistic, but as you can imagine there are a host of things that can go wrong. In an odd turn of events the family is praying that she'll have seizures so the mapping can take place. But because the seizures are severe Sam can't be left alone for a minute of this time. So her family members will take turns sitting with her from Tuesday morning to Friday. And since the hospital only does this procedure on Tuesdays and Fridays, if Sam hasn't had sufficient seizure activity by Friday morning the process will have to continue until the following Tuesday. There's more, but that's enough to communicate the scope of this situation.
We've been following this process for months through emails that Randy sends out to their friends. My heart hurts for the Campbells and the stress of this next week, never mind the delicate nature of the procedure. And I take the liberty of sharing this with you because I know Randy & Cathy well enough to know they would appreciate prayer from any source. The Body of Christ ministers to its various members without the need for personal knowledge. So as God brings it to mind, please pray for Randy & Cathy, for Sam, the rest of the family and the medical professionals throughout next week. They'll drive to Detroit on Monday and check into the hospital for the first surgery Tuesday morning. I'll keep you posted. Thanks!

We got a direct mail advertising piece today from Huggies, the diaper people. That in itself seemed odd, but then I noticed that this was a narrowly targeted piece that had, in big letters across the front, "You're baby is nine months old!"
Whoa!
Pam's been keeping something from me.

I had some errands to run for church this afternoon so I took the motorcycle. I also went the long way - about 50 miles to get something from the store 4 miles up the road. It's nice to be into riding weather again, but I was still too hot when I got home. We hit 94 today, about 8 degrees above average for this time of year. By Monday we should be down into the mid-80's. I only bring this up because some of you are fast approaching that time of year when terms like "wind chill" and "lake effect" return to the vocabulary. The spare bedroom is ready!

Which brings me to the train of thought that rumbled through my head as I rode across Carefree Highway.
The pastor's life is typically a vagabond life and ours has been typical, at least in that regard. We've lived and ministered in five cities since we married, not including our first three years while I was still in college. In each city I've come to know and love the people I've served as pastor (and the students I taught as a prof.). Some fall into the category of dear friends - and I use that adjective in its fullest sense. Others, students and younger adults, stir within me an almost parental love, similar to what Paul seems to have felt about Timothy. I don't think these folks realize how much they mean to me and I don't expect them to understand. I am a Scot and we're not known for effusiveness.
Sometimes I get to thinking about someone from one of those cities and feel an almost palpable sadness at missing them. Maybe it was a phone conversation, or a Facebook exchange (yes, I succumbed and signed up), or an email message. Hey, it might just be that they came to my mind without stimulus. And I get sad because we're so far apart. That's what happened today traveling along at 50 mph. OK, maybe 60.
Now add in the fact that my family, including my parents who mean more to me than.... live in another state.
And it's not like we could move "there" because "there" is in several different places. Plus, to do so would mean leaving "here" where we have not just our kids but a growing group of new dear friends who stir within me those same pastoral feelings.
One of the advantages of growing older is that you can get away with stuff you couldn't when you were younger. People expect old people to do and say strange things.
I've decided to begin to take advantage of that license. Don't worry, I'm still going to check to see that my zipper is up and squelch the belch. But I'm more inclined to tell someone I love them. If they take it in the wrong way I'm hoping they'll figure, "He's getting old and crazy." But I'm also hoping they'll know that I do in fact love them, that they are very important to me and I value their place in my heart.

I watch the TV version of the ESPN radio show "Mike and Mike in the Morning." This morning Mike - the one who played in the NFL - talked about the kinds of things that get said in the pile of players after a team has won the World Series, or the Super Bowl. He said that grown men will whisper to their teammates, guys they've lived with and worked with for the last eight months, and say "I love you." These great big, tough athletes will tell each other they love them. Such is the bond that develops on a championship team.
And such is the bond that develops within a pastor for his people.

Love you, guys!