09.06.06

God Bless You, Teachers: Jon’s Story

Posted in Uncategorized on September 6th, 2006 at 6:05 pm by Stoogelover

To honor the many teachers at our church recently, we showed a 20-minute video clip of an event that happened in Moses Lake, Washington, 10 years ago. During math class at the local junior high, a student entered a classroom with a high-powered rifle, shot and killed two students and their teacher, as well as wounding other students. Jon Lane, teaching math in a nearby classroom, heard the noise and went to check it out. He entered a killing field and quickly took cover behind the teacher’s desk … just next to her dead body.

The gunman, by the name of Barry, asked who had come into the room. Mr. Lane identified himself and Barry told him to stand up. Lane said he was too afraid to stand. Barry replied, “Do I have to shoot more students?” At that, Jon stood with his hands in the air. One girl was critically wounded and Jon asked if he could take her out of the room. The gunman allowed him to leave, carrying her in his arms. He could have stayed outside the room and allowed the police to handle the situation, but he returned to the classroom. After all, he said, “I was still the teacher.” He asked for and received permission to release one other student who was frantic due to low blood sugar. Jon returned a second time into this extremely dangerous and unpredictable situation.

In the meantime, the gunman told the rest of the students to line up against the back wall. No doubt, he planned on shooting more of them when Jon re-entered the room. At that point, the gunman wrapped a plastic bag around the end of the barrel and told Jon he was going to place the barrel in Jon’s mouth. Jon protested: “Barry, the gun might go off again.” The gunman was making no more allowances for Mr. Lane. It was at this moment that Jon, a former high school wrestler, used his skill to take the gunman off-guard and pin him against a wall while students rushed to safety and police officers stormed the room. What would have been a much worse tragdy ended with no more deaths because of the bravery of this math teacher.

Ten years later, the town gathered to honor Jon Lane, by presenting a newly refurbished Boy’s and Girl’s Club that Jon had started years before. It was completely rennovated and dedicated in Jon’s honor. The students whose lives he’d saved were present, along with their families. The most tear-filled moment (and there were others) was when the 3 or 4 year-old daughter of the girl who’d been critically wounded came on stage and told Jon, “Thank you for saving my mommy’s life.” If you can imagine that statement from the sweet, innocent voice of a child, then you’re probably experiencing some tear-filled eyes right now.

What made this story even more meaningful to our church is the fact one of our members (a teacher), Tom D., also grew up in Moses Lake where he and Jon Lane were best of friends from childhood through high school and remain close friends to this day.

In accepting the honor given by the town, Jon Lane made the comment that teachers do more than just teach. Being married to a teacher and having many close friends who are teachers (I actually taught in junior college for two years, but I defer to the real teachers on this one), I know for a fact they do more than just teach. As worn out as the phrases have become, they literally touch lives as well as touch the future.

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08.29.06

Rita

Posted in Uncategorized on August 29th, 2006 at 12:48 pm by Stoogelover

by Greg England

When we first moved to Long Beach, for about 2-3 years we hosted a small group Bible study in our home. Usually we would have 6-8 people involved (occasionally as many as a dozen) and always an empty chair for anyone God might send our way. Every 3 months we’d choose a ministry project to do as a group and it was just a good time all around. But we never filled the empty seat. It was one of those “Willow Creek” ideas that really sounds good and looks very spiritual in writing, but didn’t seem to play out in our experience as it must have done in other’s experience. Until ….

Between subjects in our study, we decided to have a meal one Wednesday night to discuss our future as a small group. We’d not “grown” in numbers, but we’d enjoyed some wonderful ministry projects and great bible discussions. And, the week before we gave as an assignment to pray that God would send someone to us who needed something we might provide as a means toward moving closer to God or moving into the kingdom. We left the prayer open-ended.

Wednesday evening came and only a few of the regulars showed up for the meal. About the time we sat down to eat, the doorbell rang. It was Rita. Only none of us knew Rita. Somehow she had heard that we held a Bible study on Wednesday evenings and wanted to know if she could join us! We invited her to eat with us, which she accepted, and for the next year she was a regular in our group and in our church family. Single mom going through a tough time in her life. She was hungry for the Word and became a friend in many ways. Then she stopped coming and we couldn’t track her down. Phone number was changed. No forwarding address. We lost touch with her for months.

Janice and I were in Ralph’s grocery store almost a year later when we ran into Rita! She’d had to move and felt bad about not letting us know anything … but she was worshipping with a church in her new location (a fairly good distance away from Long Beach) and as we “visited” there in the aisle of Ralph’s, she told us how much of a life saver the small group had been and how coming back to worshipping in her life had made a huge difference in herself and in her relationship as a mother.

In other words, God answered our prayers and Rita found her way back home to her Father.

Evangelism need not be difficult nor intimidating. If we’ll do the praying, God will do the providing.

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08.23.06

Pack Your Bag & Be A Grace Note Today

Posted in Uncategorized on August 23rd, 2006 at 9:04 am by Dee O'Neil Andrews

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08.15.06

Our Story

Posted in Uncategorized on August 15th, 2006 at 7:37 pm by Stoogelover

by Greg England

A Welch shepherd was presented with an orphaned lamb. Unable to find a nursing ewe to accept the lamb, he took it under his care … waiting for just the right moment / event. Within a few days that moment came. A dead lamb was found and the shepherd immediately skinned it and placed the skin of the dead lamb over the orphan. He took the orphan to the mother of the dead lamb, who sniffed it a couple of times and immediately accepted it and began nursing it.

That is our story. That’s justification. I, of myself and in myself, cannot be accepted by God, so Jesus - the Lamb of God - died for me and I am clothed with him. Accepted by God no less than if I were Jesus himself. Now if that doesn’t make your day … what can?

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07.07.06

Bag Lady Blues

Posted in Uncategorized on July 7th, 2006 at 9:59 am by Dee O'Neil Andrews

by Dee Andrews

It happened a couple of afternoons ago. And it must have been (okay - I must have been) quite a spectacle, I have to admit. But I’ll get to that in a minute.

My hero had sprinted out before me with his umbrella, because I saw him while I stood there in the covered doorway waiting for the rain to let up a bit, but I thought he was long gone already. I would have been if I had been him. The only thing I can figure is that deep pity must have overtaken him when he happened to glance back from the dry safety of his car and saw me. Or else his sense of the absurd.

Me? I was slowly sloshing and stumping my way to my car out in the blasted middle of the parking lot (the handicapped spaces were all filled when I got there with vehicles bearing no kind of handicapped plates or tags whatsoever, but that’s another story), in the middle of the biggest summer monsoon thunder storm so far this year in downtown Slidell, Louisiana with a two-level grocery cart (the latest thing, but I hate them) overflowing with about 75 (literally) plastic bags full of groceries and another plastic grocery bag upside down over my head to try to keep the rain, drops the size of golf balls, off.

Did I mention that the bag boy had unbeknownst to me perched the bag containing the gallon of milk on top of the rest of the bags at a precarious angle? Well, he did and halfway to the car it flew off the lower level of the grocery cart and busted wide open in the middle of that parking row, milk flowing away with the riverlets of rain.

When I’d gone in the store it was overcast, but didn’t look particularly rainy so I didn’t take an umbrella in with me. And I was in there for a very long time - like hour and a half - because I was slogging my way around the store very slowly with the knee high cast still slowing me down. Plus, we were out of groceries big time because I’ve been so confined of late. Seven months to the day worth "of late."

I had just seen the doctor and after we both (I’ve become quite expert at reading x-rays, if any of you need my services cheap) carefully surveyed my latest x-ray, he gave me my freedom. I graduated. I was set free from the burdensome knee high boot/cast to a pair of good Nike walking shoes for the foreseeable future. (He says rest of my life, maybe, but hey - beats a cast.)

Very limited walking, he said, and very slowly, with lots of resting in between, but still. What a wonderful lift that was. But, of course, I didn’t have a left shoe with me and hadn’t even had one on that foot for seven long months, so had to endure the cast a few hours longer (it turned out) until I could get home.

So, that is why I was grocery shopping for hours on end with no umbrella, in the "cats and dogs" downpour, thunder, lightening, God’s whole waterworks, in lovely Slidell, Louisiana at 4 p.m. Wednesday afternoon last. And that was why I grabbed a plastic grocery bag to pull down over my head while I slogged to my car out in the far reaches of the parking lot (did I mention that?) to try to get my 75 bags of groceries minus one (the gallon of milk) stowed before I started home.

The bag over my head wasn’t working too well, either to keep rain off my head and face or off my glasses so I could see, so that upset me, to say the least. Plus the spilt milk. See - not only had the bag boy inconsiderately perched the milk on top of everything else along the low side of the grocery cart, he had refused to help me take my $200 worth of groceries, mind you (I told you it had been a long while), out to the car or to put them in the trunk (a service they usually provide) because he said, he wouldn’t go out in the rain. He might get wet. (Better me to, I suppose, the "handicapped" lady with no umbrella in the knee high cast who can’t move very fast who’s got to go out there anyway.)

And there were lots of vehicles insisting on having their way rather than waiting for me to cross in front of them or to pass by, so I was really getting drenched and was aggravated about that, as well. I wanted desperately to get the rest of the groceries dumped in the trunk as fast as I could, which wasn’t going to be fast, believe me, because first I had to unlock the car doors, grab an unbrella, open it up while I dumped my drenched purse inside, open the trunk and then - with one arm - try to get all the bags in. I wanted to go home.

I had asked the bag boy to please put all of the perishable items in separate bags for me so I could segregate them in the trunk and only worry about getting them in the apartment once I got back home and leave the rest for Tom, since my walking is still very limited. But, I don’t know if he did that or not because by the time I got to the car it didn’t really matter any more.

Just then - thank God - and I profusely did - was when my hero showed up.

There I was dripping wet, just getting to the back of the car with my grocery bag still over my head, my cart full of loot and trying to get the trunk open when his smiling face under his umbrella appeared as if out of nowhere. He said, "I saw you and you look like you could really use some help. Here - take my umbrella."

He handed me his umbrella and proceeded to rapidly move the 74 bags into the trunk while I went around to the side of the car to retrieve my own umbrella as fast as I could while dumping my purse so he could have his umbrella back and so I could help him. But before I could get back around to the trunk to hand him his umbrella, he had all of the bags in but two. And even though rain was running down his head and chin he still wore a big smile.

I helped him get the last two bags in (lots of help I am) and thanked him for as long and as graciously as I could and as long as he would let me. I told him about the bag boy’s refusal to help and he’d seen the milk bottle explode and the trucks splashing by. I wanted to talk with him more or go buy him a cup of coffee or something, but it was storming and he had to go, I had to go and you know how it goes.

When I got in the driver’s seat I pulled out the hand towel Tom so prudently keeps behind the seat at all times, dried my glasses and my face, turned on the air conditioner because it must have been about 90 steamy degrees in there and called Tom at work to tell him that not only was I not home yet, I’d not even left Slidell.

I began trying to tell him what I’d just been through and about the young man who had just saved my life (in my books) in such a glorious grace note kind of way, but I couldn’t get past the part where the guy showed up next to me by the car trunk telling me he wanted to help. Tom started laughing and couldn’t stop. I don’t know why.

I suppose it was the image of me he had in his head. I guess. I suppose it was the one of me standing there at the back of the car all bedraggled with a grocery bag down over my eyes and glasses, rain streaming down the bag over my face, my purse and clothes, a busted gallon of milk nearby, a cast on my leg and 74 bags of wet groceries to be unloaded from the cart to the car.

I also suppose it was the godliness in the young man that led him to ignore his own comfort and to take the time to help a total stranger on a stormy afternoon in the middle of a grocery store parking lot. I don’t suppose that - I know that.

I told Tom later - after enduring the hour and a half it took me to get home (which is normally a 25 minute easy drive) in the heavy pockets of rain leaving one unable to see even the next vehicle ahead on the slow moving roads and drying out a bit - the young man certainly deserved a "Grace Notes" post if anyone ever did and that I was going to write one about him.

But I also told Tom - I just hope the guy’s not a blogger, too, because I’d hate to see what his post would be about me! You think?

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06.17.06

He Must Be Quite a Man

Posted in Uncategorized on June 17th, 2006 at 5:28 pm by Bill

by Bill Williams

A couple of weeks ago, my family had the opportunity to visit with many of our old friends. A couple we have known since 1989 dropped in at one gathering to help us celebrate our oldest son’s college graduation.

When they arrived, I was standing across the room with more than thirty people standing between them and me. I was talking with another guest and began to politely excuse myself so that I might work my way over to greet these dear friends.

The person with whom I was visiting was my daughter-in-law’s relative. He had no idea who this couple was. He asked, “Are they relatives of yours.”

I replied, “Well, sort of.”

The curious look on his face made me know that I needed to explain my response. I said, “Chet was one of our shepherds when we lived in Kansas.”

At this point, I got a bit sentimental. But, I believed then and continue to believe every word I subsequently spoke. I looked at him and said, “Chet is one of the best shepherds I have ever known.”

I then told him about something that happened years ago, which epitomizes this man’s life. During our worship gathering one Sunday morning, a young woman whose life was in shambles responded to “the invitation”. I received her, as was my custom, and sat with her for a moment or two. We discussed her reasons, which were many, for responding. As was our custom, after I had collected the information from those who responded and shared the essence of it with the congregation, one of our shepherds would then offer a prayer.

On this particular Sunday, brother Chet really struggled with the prayer. He knew the inner workings of this young person’s life. He knew the challenges she faced. He knew that she needed huge quantities of God’s loving care and the Spirit’s comfort. He poured out his heart to God. Because he did, we all did.

There were probably some dry eyes in the room, but not many. The presence of God was not some idea to be discussed on that day. It was reality we all experienced.

I went on to tell this man that while I was visiting with one of the oldest members of our church family later on, she looked at me and said that brother Chet was one of the most Christ-like men she knew. She then said, and I am quoting her verbatim, “When I close my eyes and think of Jesus, I always see Chet’s face.”

After I shared this brief anecdote, the man with whom I was speaking said, “He must be quite a man. No wonder you want to claim him as family.”

I made my way over to the place where Chet and Marlece were standing. We hugged and chit-chatted and then talked about old times. We talked about loved ones now gone to be with the Lord. We talked about how things are going with the church back home. We talked about family members and friends. We tried to catch one another up on just about everything. We looked at pictures of their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary Party. We laughed. We sighed. Then it was time for them to go.

Yes, Chet is one of the most Christ-like men I know. He’s not perfect. He doesn’t think that he is for one moment. He’s made his share of mistakes, just like the rest of us. He freely admits this, as well. But, he is a man of faith and integrity, who, in my opinion, is motivated by a desire which wells up from deep in his soul to honor God in all that he thinks and in all that he does and in all that he says. Because he steadfastly follows the Chief Shepherd, he is one of the best spiritual shepherds I have ever known. I wish I had told him this a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps he will find out this is how I feel, anyway.

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06.13.06

The Point Of The Bible Is Not To Know The Bible

Posted in Uncategorized on June 13th, 2006 at 2:56 pm by Danny Sims

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05.03.06

An Extra Measure of Grace

Posted in Uncategorized on May 3rd, 2006 at 10:29 pm by Dee O'Neil Andrews

by Dee Andrews

I have greatly neglected "Grace Notes," my creation of last fall brought about by some incidents I experienced following the horrific Hurricane Katrina. For that I must apologize and am truly sorry I have not promoted this site more. It is one that deserves much attention, devotion and dedication because there are truly recipients too numerous to mention who we all come in contact with day by day who are grace notes in our lives.

I have experienced so many of those myself in the past several weeks and I promise I will be back here to tell you of them.  Those of you who are faithful followers of this altruistic site dedicated to those who enrich our lives in so many small, yet outstanding, ways.

But tonight I am here to ask for your "grace note" graciousness in praying for me that God will provide me with an extra measure of grace to endure this current trial I am in with the broken bone in my left foot that is not healing. I need your prayers so. So very much. This is hard for me to bear and a burden to me in not being able to serve others, beginning with my family, as I would like.

So - if you drop by here and read these words - please remember me in your prayers and ask God that He will grant me the extra measure of grace I so need. I thank you for that. And the Lord thanks you.

Those were the last words my father spoke to me before he died in the middle of the night when I was ministering to him at home while my mother slept. All I gave him was a cup of water. Yet he remembered what Jesus said in Matthew chapter 25.

31"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory.

32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.

33He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

34"Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.

35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,

36I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

37"Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?

38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

40"The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Thank you for your prayers. You are all - every one - grace notes to my life.

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04.26.06

And All Along I Thought I Was Reading To Him

Posted in Uncategorized on April 26th, 2006 at 7:00 am by Danny Sims

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03.20.06

A Private Kindness

Posted in Uncategorized on March 20th, 2006 at 4:53 am by Danny Sims

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