Sat. 9:00am= Bus Visitation

As bad as things are, we have a great opportunity to show our children how to deal with our differences. I’m not saying we should compromise our convictions or acquiesce to those who are clearly wrong. I’m simply saying we should at all time conduct ourselves as “ an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.“(1 Tim. 4:12). Perhaps a study of Prov. 26:4-5 might even help. Being right doesn’t give us the right to be rude! As my dear friend Matt says, “I’m working on it”– Think about it!

Pastors can often see things that you don’t see, or things you think they don’t see. And your ___ is showing! You fill in the blank. It might be one thing for one person and something else for another. Whatever it is, whether you see it or not, “Your __ is showing!” I don’t mention it to embarrass or hurt you, but to help. If something doesn’t change you will end up hurting and/or embarrassing yourself. You will also hurt others and harm the church. I simply want to encourage you to make some changes before that happens. Even if you are successful in hiding your your bad attitude from others, God knows, and that makes it a serious problem. If your search comes up empty ask God to open your eyes. I’ve got a feeling that we all have something that needs to be fixed. Even as I write this, I am very much aware that I have faults that are obvious to others –so this isn’t all about you.

Believe me, having so many faults of my own, it isn’t easy or enjoyable to write this. But if you are a pastor or a parent, and you care about your flock or family, sometimes you have to do what you can to avert a disaster. If you think I’m talking about you there is a good chance that you are right. If your conscious is bothering you there is usually a reason for it and that constitutes a need to do something about it and that involves confession (1 John 1:9). The best advice I can give you is found in Eph. 4:31-31, “Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”

I feel I need to close with this word of explanation. We could talk for an hour about all the good things in the church and there is a time for that, but there must also be a time when we talk about the negative. Prevention is better than cure, and that is my motivation in writing this. Depending on the circumstances– criticism and correction can be more valuable than commendations. Pretending all is well doesn’t make it so. If we ever get to the place where we see no room for improvement, nor have any desire to be better, we are in an awful condition. So I hope you will see this as something positive, rather than painful. Think about it. Someone is!

I’ve got a gut feeling that this is a pretty good representation of what is going on in most churches today. Our minds are on things of lesser importance than prayer and praise. Then we wonder what’s wrong!

I spent the week before my daughter’s June wedding running last-minute trips to the caterer, florist, tuxedo shop, and the church about forty miles away. As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good Christian young man, I felt laden with responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle . . So many details, so many bills, and so little time. My son Jack was away at college, but he said he would be there to walk his younger sister down the aisle, taking the place of his
dad who had died a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he’d wanted to give her away since she was about three years old!

To save money, I gathered blossoms from several friends who had large magnolia trees. Their luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green leaves would make beautiful arrangements against the rich dark wood inside the church. After the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, we banked the podium area and choir loft with magnolias. As we left just before midnight, I felt tired but satisfied this would be the best wedding any bride had ever had! The music, the ceremony, the reception – and especially the flowers – would be remembered for years.

The big day arrived – the busiest day of my life – and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her fiance Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a final check. When we opened the door and felt a rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I saw them – all the beautiful white flowers were black. Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night had knocked out the air conditioning system, and on that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and died.

I panicked, knowing I didn’t have time to drive back to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return in time for the wedding. Tim turned to me. “Edna, can you get more flowers? I’ll throw away these dead ones and put fresh flowers in these arrangements.” I mumbled, “Sure,” as he be-bopped down the hall to put on his cuff links.

Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the dark wooden beams in the arched ceiling. “Lord,” I prayed, “please help me. I don’t know anyone in this town. Help me find someone willing to give me flowers – in a hurry!” I scurried out praying for four things: the blessing of white magnolias, courage to find them in an unfamiliar yard, safety from any dog that may bite my leg, and a nice person who would not get out a shotgun when I asked to cut his tree to shreds.

As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the distance. I approached a house… No dog in sight. I knocked on the door and an older man answered. So far so good . . . No shotgun. When I stated my plea the man beamed, “I’d be happy to!” He climbed a stepladder and cut large bough s and handed them down to me. Minutes later, as I lifted the last armload into my car trunk, I said, “Sir, you’ve made the mother of a bride happy today.”

“No, Ma’am,” he said. “You don’t understand what’s happening here. You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on Monday. On Tuesday I received friends at the funeral home, and on Wednesday . . . He paused. I saw tears welling up in his eyes. “On Wednesday I buried her.” He looked away. “On Thursday most of my out-of-town relatives went back home, and on Friday – yesterday – my children left.” I nodded.

“This morning,” he continued, “I was sitting in my den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she needed me. But now nobody needs me. This morning I cried, ‘Who needs an eighty-six-year-old wore-out man? Nobody!’ I began to cry louder. ‘Nobody needs me!’ About that time, you knocked, and said, “Sir, I need you.”

I stood with my mouth open. He asked, “Are you an angel? The way the light shone around your head into my dark living room…” I assured him I was no angel. He smiled. “Do you know what I was thinking when I handed you those magnolias?=A0 I decided I’m needed. My flowers are needed. Why, I might have a flower ministry! I could give them to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home have no flowers. People need flowers at times like that and I have lots of them. They’re all over the backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches – all sorts of places. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to serve the Lord until the day He calls me home!”

I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On Patsy’s wedding day, if anyone had asked me to encourage someone who was hurting, I would have said,”Forget it! It’s my only daughter’s wedding, for goodness’ sake! There is no way I can minister to anyone today.” But God found a way. Through dead flowers.

“Life is not the way it’s supposed to be. It’s the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.”–[Story by Edna Ellison]