It’s been a difficult season.
God’s getting me right this summer.
I am being prepared for the next assignment. He’s transforming me from glory to glory, more and more into the image of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18).
I shouldn’t expect promotion without preparation.
Even Jesus learned obedience by the things that He suffered (Hebrews 5:8)
It’s been rough. I don’t like it.
But, I’m thankful.
In Week 5 of 52 Weeks Of Gratefulness, I give thanks to God for nickels.
I was around 6 years old when my dad was a student at Gammon Theological Seminary, and on this particular day I am on campus with him at the library.
I mimic my father. As he studied and wrote, I sat quietly and drew.
He then reached in his denim pocket and handed me fifty cents or so in nickels. They were for the copy machine. Copies were 5 cents a copy.
Once my masterpiece was complete, I’d walk intently (with excitement) to the copier, careful not to run. I’d stand in line to copy my work just like the grown-ups.
I don’t remember a single word being spoken but remember the feeling of having everything that I wanted or needed.
In that moment there was no where else I’d rather be.
I was just happy to be with my dad.
I’m so glad I had this moment with my father. It’s a beautiful memory that makes me smile to this day.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In Week 4 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks for plenty.
I have been able to eat what I want and as much as I want for as long as I can remember.
“And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.”
—1 Tim 6:8
I have this and enough to share.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In week 3 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks to God for a son and an eternal brother.
Marriage by the law gained me someone as dear as a son to me, my nephew, Devin Mabry, the son of my sister-in-law Gloria Harris.
Marriage to Christ by faith through the covenant of His blood has gained me a beloved and eternal brother, because Devin is now the son of God, the Father of our Lord and elder brother Jesus Christ.
He was just baptized.
Another brother, Jimmy Gant, said during a gathering, that the only thing you can take from this life to heaven is your loved ones.
I cannot express the deep gladness I have in knowing I will have someone so dear to me as Devin Mabry in this life and in the one to come.
Such joy is in my heart, pressed down, shaken together and running over.
Welcome, brother Devin.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In week 2 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks to God for Jay Hurdle.
A young man with a prior felony has been working diligently to put his past behind him.
He’s holding down a job. His supervisor praised him as one of the best on staff. He’s taking care of his ailing mother. He’s showing up for his kids. He’s going straight from work to home.
He’s keeping his nose clean.
Then one day he decides to give someone he knows from around the way a ride, and they’re stopped by the police.
He has a felony, his rider has a felony, but what the young man doesn’t know is, the rider has a gun.
The rider throws the gun in the car and flees.
The rider escapes. The young man doesn’t.
Now he’s facing 10 years for a poor decision made in a split second about something as trivial as a passenger.
You’d think his efforts to improve his situation would be taken into consideration, but that’s not how the machine works, especially for certain categories of prior offenses and for certain people. All the system sees is your prior. It was without compassion.
But, Jay Hurdle was compassionate.
The young man was without direction, the public defender seemed indifferent, overwhelmed by his case load, and the young man couldn’t really afford to pay for his own defense.
Of all the lawyers we reached out to, Jay Hurdle was the only one to return the call.
Not only that, he arranged to meet with the young man, freely sharing hours of precious billable time to a complete stranger from whom he had no hope of recouping it.
The young man was terrified and Jay Hurdle gave of his time and expertise to help him gain some sense of direction.
I don’t know Jay Hurdle well, but I know the effect he’s had on our community very well.
Of the community service organizations and non-profits I’ve worked with, I was constantly brushing up against his work, very often him having donated it.
It seems that whenever I hear about something good happening in our community, I hear his and his wife, Cate Van Halsema’s name.
They are remarkably human and have given themselves to the betterment of our community, including in that people who others would omit.
I share this experience with Jay Hurdle because probably no one else in the world knows he did it.
And, if he did this, how much more?
I didn’t know Jay Hurdle well, but I know this is who he is: a neighbor the kind that Jesus spoke of.
I was grieved to hear of his passing.
There’s a Celebration of Jay Hurdle’s Life happening at the upstairs of Restaurant Tyler at 5:30 PM today.
If you’ve felt the effect of his life, I encourage you to carry it and pass it along, especially to Cate Van Halsema and his loved ones during this incredibly difficult season.
He is a man #duehonor.
He made our community better.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In Week 1 of 52 Weeks of Gratefulness, I give thanks for a Son’s Heart.
Someone was in need, having lost their home’s much used washer and dryer in the same day.
They were hours away, a new washer and dryer set would have to be picked up, the old ones would have to be removed and the new installed. It would be a challenging job for just one person.
As my wife and I were working through how to help, my son Chris volunteers, “Dad, I’ll go.”
He gives up an entire Saturday that are typically cherished and fiercely protected by college students to help someone else.
I can scarcely think of a moment where I was more proud.
My prayer and greatest hope is that I could ever make God feel the way my son made me feel that day.
I’m proud of you, Chris.
I love you.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In Week 15 of 52 Weeks of gratefulness I give thanks for hanging out with our boys.
Mom’s out of town.
She’s the fun one, always coming up with fun things to do.
I’m not great at that.
I don’t think in terms of, “Oh, that would be fun to do.”
I think in terms of accomplishing things, “It would be cool if X existed, to accomplish Y or if the boys were exposed to Z”.
So, I plan “fun”.
I know. Horrible.
So, I Google “fun things to do with young adults” and break out a spreadsheets to sort possible activities by distance and time required.
True story.
As I discuss the possibilities with our boys: hiking, miniature golf, fishing with Granddad, etc., Chris said, “I don’t care what we do. As long as I’m with y’all.”
(How did pepper get in my eyes?!)
They then conclude together, almost simultaneously, “Let’s get on Minecraft! We haven’t played with you in forever, Dad.”
And, for three hours that’s what we do.
My eldest son, Chris, takes note of the spawning point as I figure out how to get logged in, remarking, “I’ll help Dad get to the camp” because we’re playing survival and he knows I’m horrible at the game.
We talk. Challenges we face in the game spur a host of conversations about all sorts of things like ambitions, experiences, ideas and attitudes about life.
We laugh as we each die in the most ridiculous ways, mostly me (e.g. “brainflurry dies attempting to swim in lava.”)
Afterward, my youngest son, Roman, says, “I made an awesome soup the other day, can I make you some Dad?” and then proceeds to cook for us.
I couldn’t have asked for a better day.
And, I didn’t plan any of it.
Awesome things happen around awesome people, when you let it.
My kids are awesome. My wife is awesome.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In Week 14 of 52 Weeks of gratefulness I give thanks for a day.
On this particular day I start my day at 6:30 AM at a bible study being held in the equipment bay of a local construction company. I’m there because I was invited by a brother that I had met at a men’s lunch held at New Horizons because I was invited by another brother who I met because… and it goes on and on.
Then, at 7:45 AM I join a men’s prayer group for our schools that I became a part of because a brother that I met at… I’m sure you’re detecting a pattern.
I could go on and on about the various functions I’ve participated in with these men. I’ve done bible studies with these men. I’ve preached with these men. I’ve volunteered, worked, sweated and bled beside these men. But, today hit me differently.
Earlier this morning, Good Friday, April 07, 2023, I participated in an event called the Stations of The Cross, jointly observed by Catholics, Protestants and people of every denominational stripes where we walked through town carrying a cross to symbolize the Via Dolorosa or Way of Sorrow.
The weather was perfect for it, overcast, gloomy and raining.
It concluded powerfully with these closing words,
“Lord Jesus Christ, your passion and death is the sacrifice that unites earth and heaven and reconciles all people to you. May we who have faithfully reflected on these mysteries follow in your steps and so come to share your glory in heaven where you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”
Then we sat quietly solemn, the cross in the backdrop, the silence only broken by the ongoing but irregular sound of heavy rain drops upon the earth and on our heads -like tears from heaven.
Then this afternoon, I attended the Seven Last Sayings of Jesus at Mt. Peiler Missionary Baptist Church. There were congregants from different churches all across our city, as pastors and ministers from these varying fellowships expounded on the last words our Savior uttered while on the cross.
Many of these preachers were brought together because of the events and initiatives that I mentioned earlier. We sang together. We worshipped together. And, because of these men, people from their different churches were brought together too.
My point is this: what started as simply coming together for a meal or for prayer for our schools has resulted in us increasing our presence in each others lives.
God is doing something.
And, we’re just getting started.
My heart burns.
So, I’m thankful for a day that made all that possible. That day was the cross.
“For it pleased the Father that in Him all the fullness should dwell, and by Him to reconcile all things to Himself, by Him, whether things on earth or things in heaven, having made peace through the blood of His cross.” Colossians 1:19–20.
I’m grateful. #52WoG
In week 13 of 52 weeks of gratefulness I give thanks for Carrie Johnson Franks.
“Paul, I think my computer has a virus,” Carrie says.
Then she whispers, “There’s pictures popping up of naked Asian men.”
“That’s very specific,” I joke. “Is there something we need to talk about?”
“Well…” she teases, “You caught me. Asian men are kinda my thing. And, peanut butter.”
We shared a good hearty laugh.
Carrie made work delightful.
Though I worked as an independent contractor, she made me feel like I was fellow colleague in the company, another member of the team.
And, she was thoughtful.
During the recent storm that wreaked havoc across the state, she thought to go into the office that weekend to check on things, and she sent me a heads up about items that may need my attention so that, to use her words, “I wouldn’t feel bombarded that Monday morning”.
That’s just the kind of person she was.
At every business I support, there’s the local techie, the first person other employees turn to for help and the person I can trust to help perform tasks on servers or network equipment to quickly bring something back online. I refer to them as my local I.T. pros.
Carrie was my local I.T. pro.
Each time she’d help me with something, I’d promise to send her some Asian men and peanut butter.
Carrie was my local I.T. pro.
But, because of her kindness, Carrie was more than helping hands at the office.
She was a friend.
I’m grateful.
#52WoG
In week 12 of 52 weeks of gratefulness I give thanks for a meal.
It was nothing earth shattering or particularly special.
It was just a meal –fast food, at that.
But a little more than a decade ago, I suffered a devastating financial disaster.
Since then, I’ve been moving and navigating life like a bear is chasing me -running, evading on my worst days and rushing anxiously on my best.
Life was a scramble. I was always moving quickly to get to the next thing.
I remember one of the lowest days of my life was when I was picking up my dearly beloved son from elementary school. He was moving at a casual, carefree pace and I yelled, yes yelled unlovingly and angrily, “Would you come on here?!”
I’m so sorry.
I hadn’t really been living, not enjoying anything, rather just trying to survive.
I didn’t even enjoy food. I ate without really tasting it. All I wanted to do was get energy and end the hunger.
But on this particular day, I felt free to put the demands of the world aside and enjoyed my meal in contemplative silence.
No phone. No laptop. No work. No ministry.
Just me, a plastic fork and food on a paper plate.
I took time to register the textures, the flavors, the smell.
I ate it slowly, enjoying every morsel and thanking God for every bite.
I say it wasn’t earth shattering but, maybe it was.
Whatever it was, I enjoyed it.
I’m thankful.
#52WoG
