It was a wonderful gift given by some dear friends. They were downsizing and moving into the senior housing at the Baptist Village in Owasso, Oklahoma. Vernon Smith and his wife Esther helped organize our church in 1935. Vernon was a banker, a deacon, church treasurer and the first choir director. Esther’s funeral service in 1975 was the largest I had ever officiated. Later, Vernon married Ollie Shannon, whom he had rediscovered at their high school reunion. When Vernon and Ollie moved, we received their grandfather clock. 

Grandfather clocks need to be moved gently. There is a pendulum, heavy weights and chains, and delicate moving parts all housed in a cabinet nearly seven feet tall. It fit perfectly in our front hall just down from the bedrooms. It chimes every fifteen minutes, longer and longer rings until it “bongs” the hour. At first it nearly drove me crazy. I knew when it was 2:15 or 4:45 a.m. in my so-called sleep. Overnight guests would comment on the clock. The Westminster Chime is the classic ring that it is set to. Also, there are options to set it to the Winchester or the Whittington Chimes. I tried them all—still less sleep. Then one day, I adjusted.

What keeps you awake at night these days? For me it is the ever-present blanket of grief and loss this year that is weighing on my heart. Since last December I have officiated or participated in 18 funerals, all with long personal relationships. I listen for the “still small voice” of God’s grace.

After I set the clock back to the Westminster Chime, I barely noticed 3 a.m. Before long I was sleeping through the night again. One day Vernon asked me how I was adjusting to the clock. He proceeded to tell me about the secret little hook that prevents it from chiming at all. By then it was too late. About thirty-five years have passed listening to that grandfather clock. It keeps perfect time if I remember to wind it regularly. The sound of the chime has become so familiar I rarely hear it at all. I have adjusted to its rhythm and sound. I wonder sometimes if the chimes were turned off, would the quiet keep me awake?

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Listen closely. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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In the stars his handiwork I see. On the wind he speaks with majesty. Tho he ruleth over land and sea, What is that to me?

I keep near my desk what I call my Falls Creek Bible. This is a hardback edition of the Good News Bible (Today’s English Version) from the hippy-dippy era of church music. I turned to it when I learned of the recent passing of composer and lyricist Ralph Carmichael, creator with Kurt Kaiser of Tell It Like It Is: A Folk Musical About God. I carried this Bible to the Falls Creek youth camp for many summers. Occasionally I would make it available for the young people to record a commitment to the Lord that they had made that week, and sign and date it. It is a treasure chest of the Spirit at work. 

I will celebrate nativity, For it has a place in history. Sure, he came to set his people free, What is that to me?

A highlight of every night of every Falls Creek camp was the mass choir of teenagers under the leadership of Warren M. Angell, Dean of the School of Fine Arts at Oklahoma Baptist University from 1936-1975. On the night of August 2, 1979, both Ralph Carmichael and Buryl Red, the founding director of a national choir of Baptist Music Ministers, The Centurymen, rehearsed and led the choir in some of their beloved songs like Carmichael’s Pass It On and The Savior Is Waiting, and Red’s In Remembrance of Me and He Is Alive from Celebrate Life! I treasure both of their autographs in my Falls Creek Bible.

Then I met Him face to face, And I felt the wonder of His grace. Then I knew that He was more than just a God who didn’t care, who lived a way up there.

Ralph Carmichael was the musical composer, artist and director for many famous singers, such as Nat King Cole, Duke Ellington, Elvis Presley, and Peggy Lee. He was a self-confessed sinner. But he found his joy and much controversy in introducing “contemporary music” into church worship. He has been called by many “The Father of Contemporary Worship.” He was 94 when he died on October 18.

And now He walks beside me day by day. Ever watching o’er me lest I stray. Helping me to find the narrow way, He’s everything to me.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. He’s Everything. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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In the summer of 2016, we attended a sweet and beautiful family wedding in Indiana. Following the wedding came the family pictures, then the reception dinner. There was a long delay from the staff in the starting of the dinner. At one point, I confess, I became restless and got up for a cup of coffee. On my way back to our table I noticed two boys playing by the unattended wedding cake. They were playing a dangerous game of “who can poke their finger closest to the cake without touching it.” Since these boys were closely related to me, I made my way towards them. It did not take long to point them to the food line and redirect their efforts. Mission accomplished. Then one boy suddenly had a thought and whipped around to get my attention, but I was much closer than he realized. My hot cup of coffee was almost at my lips when the bump happened. Hot coffee soaked my shirt and jacket. He was very sorry. It was an accident, but I needed to clean up.

We are always having to clean up, aren’t we? Spills, accidents, hot days outside, housework, you name it, we are always cleaning things up. Coming clean is a way of life, isn’t it? We bathe, wash our clothes and brush our teeth. Hopefully, regularly. So it is and so it should be for us spiritually. Coming clean with our sins—before ourselves, before others and before God Almighty—is the spiritual necessity for each of us every single day. Confession is good for the body and the soul.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9)

 I stopped by the gift shop at the golf club, where the reception was held, and was bought a new shirt by the boys’ mother—the only shirt in the shop in my size. I took my coffee-soaked self into the locker room and washed out the stained shirt. (The red spots on my chest and stomach weren’t too bad.) After I put on the new shirt, I felt clean again. It felt good. If you ever see me in a bright pink shirt with the Valle Vista Golf Club logo on the sleeve, just know it was the one I was wearing when I stepped up to lead the blessing at the wedding dinner.

Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Come clean. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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This is a reposting of the official account of the day Dini came to church.

On September 7, 1979, I received an urgent phone call asking for my assistance. One of our church members at the time, Ty Frederick, was trying his hand at breeding cockatiels. I was very interested in his new hobby. He called me that evening to say that a new mother was rejecting her two hatchlings. He asked if I could come over and help him. We decided that I would take one and he would work with the other. I took the hatchling home and fed him with an eye dropper and kept him warm with a towel in a shoebox. After his feathers came out, I began to teach Dini to fly and to talk. One of his favorite sayings was, “He’s a good bird.”  Then, one fateful day in the spring of 1981, I brought him to church to show the children.

The world’s longest children’s sermon began during the morning service as usual. When I took the bird out of his cage to show how he was trained to talk and fly back to me… well, let’s just say he flew and flew and sang, all through the rest of church that morning. I thought it was poetic that Ty was singing a solo in worship when Dini decided to make it a duet. No one slept through church that day! We worked all afternoon to try and coax him back to his cage. He loved singing in church. Later, after the evening service, I climbed an extension ladder and lifted a long pole with an improvised crossbar up to his perch near the sanctuary’s cove lights. He got on the crossbar, then as I slowly inched the pole down, he jumped on my shoulder like he was supposed to have done 10 hours earlier!

I looked up the life expectancy of the cockatiel—they live about 20 years. According to Wikipedia, there was one bird confirmed to have lived 35 years. Dini was a noble pet that outlived a number of our cats. For around eight of those years, he shared his cage with a female cockatiel we called DeeDee. We thought Dini would like the company and that they might even mate. He mostly tolerated her. She died unexpectedly one July. He did not seem to miss her. Dini died on May 7, 2011. He lived 31 years and 8 months with us, greeting us every day with songs and whistles and chatter. He was a very good bird.

  Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Remember the good times. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.

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