Not far from the tree

Jed, the Classical Music Lover
The other day when Nana was down, some upbeat music came on and Nana started to move to the music. Jed whipped around and gave her a nasty look, and said, 'That's what I do when Lindsay does that, too!'

Chloe, the Not So Classical Music Lover
Chloe and I were going for a drive in the van the other day, and I asked if she wanted a CD. I told her I was putting on some worship music, and explained what that was. Ever one to share her mind, she looked skeptical. I think she was about to object when it started, but as soon as the first sound she heard was a good strong drum roll, she relaxed, sat back, and said, 'This is . . . NICE!'

Usually, Jed is my son all the way, and Chloe Jill's daughter. But this time the rolls were reversed. Two good apples, neither one falling far from the tree - just a matter of which tree they fell from.

Ten Commandments (and counting)

I was reviewing the Ten Commandments the other day with Jed as we read some Bible stories. Chloe, who is our budding spiritual giant, was sitting on my lap, and had several guesses of her own:

1) Share your toys with your sister.

2) Clean up your room.

3) Don't pick your nose.

The theology is a little weak, but she does have some very valid points.

Fulfilled

Sitting here on Christmas Eve by myself, feeling myself to be quite the rich man - the three big kids are winding down watching a movie, Jill and Jack are getting much-needed rest.

We had a full Christmasy church day here at CHC.

• Potluck brunch
• Huge gift of appreciation from our friends at Chestnut Hill
• Children's Nativity play
• Dramatic reading with my beloved Sunday school students
• Lots of Christmas music
• Christmas sermon on Mary's Magnificat - God has taken notice of His people!
• Special time with Tucker at the nursing home
• Patriots on TV
• Pizza Market for dinner
• Watching the kids each open a gift
• Special candlelight service, complete with sparklers afterwards
• Sitting by the Christmas tree and reading words of appreciation from grateful parishioners
• Enjoying all four children for who they are
• Knowing that the love of my life is always by my side
• Knowing that God has taken notice of me, and has showered His love and grace on my undeserving soul

Merry Christmas to all!

Jackson Josiah

I know many of you have already seen pictures on Jill's blog, but here's the latest and greatest! He's quite a guy; we are so enamored with him.

Still waiting

This time I'm waiting - in New Boston, at home, with Jill and the kids and the midwife, for Baby Dear! Looks like it will be today - nineteen is such a nice prime number.

This part of the process is so strange. Sitting around waiting for a little one to come and change your life forever. So much to do, but most of it I can't do because it entails leaving the house. I could also clean the house, but who wants to do that? So I'll keep on waiting - and updating my blog. My primary customer right now is very understanding, and had just been given a heads up yesterday that I might get The Call anyday.

We'll keep you posted.

I'll meet you in Ziklag

While studying recently for a talk I was giving to a group of young people, I was struck by the importance of the geography and the chronology in I Chronicles 11 & 12 – the two familiar chapters about David’s mighty men and those that joined forces with them to make David king over all of Israel.

While these two chapters have inspired me for years, I was particularly struck this time by the timing of events, as the two chapters jump around and are not written chronologically. I was inspired by what happened when David was in Ziklag, hiding from King Saul.

David is here a type of Christ, Saul a type of the kingdom of this world. God’s people were beginning to realize that, even though Saul was still king, he was no longer God’s choice. So, those with the spiritual discernment and fortitude picked up their bags and threw in their lot with David, God’s anointed. Even though he was hiding in the wilderness of Ziklag – no royal courts, no royal food, no important cabinet positions to be filled – he became a magnet for those who wanted to be on God’s side. Just God’s man, awaiting God’s time, being joined by God’s faithful.

We read in Revelation 11:15 that “the kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He will reign forever and ever.” But when we read that this “has become,” we read this as a future event. We live in a day when “Saul” is still on the throne, ruling over the kingdom of this world. But David’s Son is in Ziklag, patiently waiting the day of His Father’s choice.

And now, in 2006, Jesus is gathering the faithful of God to Himself - those who have rejected the kingdom of this world, and have thrown in their lot with God’s Chosen One. Jesus may still be in Ziklag, but the momentum is building. His day is fast approaching. The kingdom of this world will soon become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He will indeed reign forever and ever.

As for me and my house, we’ve packed up our bags and moved to Ziklag. We’ve come with one heart to make Christ King over all the earth. We have no stakes in the kingdom of this world. Its foundations are crumbling, but our foundation is secure. Its day is past, Christ's is just around the bend. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be waiting in Ziklag.

Rats! (Literally!)

(With a nod to Craig here, for the reminder to only say literally when we mean it.)

I don't really "do" rodents - especially not those of the larger variety. When Jill and I moved into the parsonage, it was overrun by mice (and the occasional rat). Brave mice, bold mice, friendly mice - but now, thank God and thank our cats, dead mice.

Recently, though, I have had two very memorable rodent run-in's. About a week ago I was working in a finished basement, removing ceiling tiles as I installed a new circuit for a microwave. Something fell in front of my face, off of one of the tiles. As I brushed aside the debris, I suddenly realized I was brushing aside a Fossilized Rat. No kidding, the thing was in one piece, even as it hit the floor. Probably eight inches long, plus a tail, it was a remarkably complete skeleton. The homeowner, a Bedford dentist, seemed appalled that I almost took it home to get a picture to post on my blog - sorry friends, I decided I didn't want it in my van all day! I, of course, called home to tell Jill of my adventures. Chloe, our three-year old daughter, was asking for the rest of the day whether Daddy still had a rat on his head - she was quite concerned, bless her heart.

And then today I was working at a customer's house, right by their floor to ceiling window, when I saw the biggest rat-looking-thing I'd ever seen scurry across the walkway about eight feet away. I thought maybe it was a ferret, but it turns out it was a fisher. They had heard it scream the other day, so were not surprised. I've been a little jumpy all day long, afraid it might be tracking me. I told Jill we were locking the doors tonight. My lovely wife assured me that fisher cats don't open doors, but then again she didn't see this guy. He wanted to eat me for lunch.

I definitely should've been an accountant or something safe like that. No rats, no fisher cats - just numbers. If anybody needs me, I'll be under my bed behind locked doors brushing up on my accounting skills.

Of communists and cheerleaders

Jed has been on my mind a lot recently. He's quite the guy.

Wednesday evening he was accompanying me to go look at an upcoming job. On the way into Manchester, we had a scintillating discussion on the location of Cuba, what a communist is, who Gorbachev was, and how President Reagan told him in no unclear terms to "tear down this wall."

A week ago Saturday, Lindsay and I and the kids were going through a Dunkin Donuts drive-thru. Much to my annoyance, a group of junior high cheerleaders were on both sides of the entrance collecting money for who-knows-what. I cleverly avoided eye contact by wildly pointing at a spectacular nothing in the opposite direction while we sped by the first cheerleader. All of a sudden Jed pipes up from the back seat in a scornful voice: "Why is that cheerleader pointing at everyone and doing her stupid gymnastics thing?" Lindsay and I were laughing too hard to bother reprimanding him for saying 'stupid.'

Well, now Jed understands communists and cheerleaders. Not bad for a six-year-old, I'd say.

And that, I might add, is all he had to say about that!