What Happened to Charlie?

“Hey, Sam. Help you?

“Howdy, Rich. I just need some screws. I can find ‘em my ownself.”

Sam shuffled down the aisle, and Rich stayed put in his seat behind the counter. Five minutes later Sam reappeared, puffing a little from his walk, and tossed a couple small boxes on the counter. Rich rang them up.  “That’ll be $298 even.”

“Now I know why they call them screws,” said Sam, extracting three one dollar bills from his wallet. “You keep the change. Get you somethin’ nice.”

The Bossman Takes a Holiday

Me and the boys rolled out at 5 like every morning. The cook had sent us down some biscuits and Charles fired up the stove and put the coffee on. I set them biscuits out on our little table and found the jar of honey the cook give us last time. As usual Danny stayed in bed till the last minute.

9/11, Then and Now

Today is the day we’ve come to know simply as 9-11. Where were you when the planes crashed into the World Trade Center, into the Pentagon, and into the field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania? Nobody who lived through that day will ever forget it. And we must never let it be forgotten.

It wasn’t just the nearly 3000 people that died on our own soil at the hands of Muslim extremists. It was the shock of it, the disruption of it, and the way the world was forever changed on that day. It was, seared into our memories, the sight of jumbo jets crashing like fire-bombs into the Twin Towers. It was flames and melting steel, and smoke and soot covering everything and everyone. And we also watched the horrific sight of people jumping from the inferno behind them into the impossible height below them. Estimates are that 200 people stepped into the air, knowing it was their last act of choice on this earth.

I’ll never forget those who ran back into those buildings, time and again, to try to bring people down. Stories of heroism abound. So many who wore the uniform, and many who didn’t, gave their last breaths to save others. There was sacrifice, exhaustion, poignant phone calls, folks going above and beyond any call of duty. Everybody tried to help everybody. Covered with soot and grime, skin tones were undetectable and irrelevant. We were all brothers and sisters, standing, kneeling, and helping together.

For a short time, America came together. We had been attacked, we were all in shock and in grief and in fear, and we all stood together. I remember a day when everyone on our block stepped out of their homes, shone a light, and shyly spoke words of reassurance to one another.

Look, on this day, please don’t bother me with rants about how evil America is. I’m proud to be an American, and I’m proud of the America that wept, sacrificed, stood, and overcame. Together.

Today once again buildings are burning, people are perishing, and enemies are gloating. But this time the tragedy is not marked by unity and sacrifice for others. This time there is a deliberate attempt to divide us – to divide families, friends, churches, cities. A whole country. It’s an attempt to turn us into screaming factions who are willing to do violence to have their way. It is a cynical, evil, demonic exploitation of a just cause (racial harmony) with the real agenda of destroying what is good in order to achieve raw, ugly power.

On this 9-11, I know America is better than this. We have overcome attacks from within and without, and we did so by putting our arms around one another and standing against the forces of anarchy, division, and extremism.

Our God has shed His grace upon thee – thee, America. His grace is limitless, and it will not stop, as long as we continue to turn to Him. Jesus is the kind of Person who runs into burning buildings and takes the place of others so they can be free. But He even beat death, and He still stands with us.

Let’s put our arms around one another again. Let’s stand together covered by the blood of Christ, under the banner of His mighty Name. We mustn’t get our marching orders from Marxist haters, from disaffected 60’s radicals, from tech giants or political parties. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We will stand together, centered around the Bible, arms around our brothers and sisters, lifting up Jesus. We will pray, call down God’s armies, love others, oppose evil, and…we shall overcome.

God bless America.

Book Burning

A couple of weeks ago we learned that Antifa and other “protesters” were burning Bibles in Portland, using them for kindling in an attempt to set the U.S. Courthouse on fire. I’ve been thinking about book burning, and my imagination led me here.

I’m a collector of old books. Which is a felony, of course. That’s why you’ll never find a little shop bearing my name on 3^rd and Elm. This is the black market, friends, and if anyone could trace this short missive to me, I’d be sent to a camp. Or worse.

So be careful, gentle reader, because you’re in danger, too. I really want you to read this, but please don’t take unnecessary chances.

The Extraction

My partner and I headed into the city, shrouded both by our robes and by the gathering darkness. We were dressed like the locals, and we stayed away from main streets and public places. We had worked together before, so it was easy for us to slip through the alleys and up quiet residential streets, headed toward our subject and the planned extraction.

The orders were unmistakable – get this family out.

I Want to be Ready

              The two tall shining ones were ushering their newbies into the New Land. Ayzair’s charge, Sam, kept chattering away, overjoyed. 

“Hey, thanks for helping me…when do I get to see Jesus? Oh, wow! Look at the size of those trees! Are those apples? Oh, my gosh, can I eat one?”

“Of course,” said his giant helper. Sam jumped maybe 20 feet in the air and landed holding an apple the size of a grapefruit. “Oh, my gosh – that’s the best apple I’ve ever tasted,” he said, mouth full and chin dripping juice.

Big Daddy and the New Name

I want to tell you a true story, but I don’t blame you if you don’t believe it. It starts out normal, but it ends in a miracle. For real.

He was born Terrance Junior, the oldest of the three kids, so he was Junior to his parents and his little brothers. Nice family, my mom said. I was just a baby when we moved next door, so I don’t really remember Mr. Terrance. But Momma always said they tried to help us out when they could, what with Momma on her own and a baby on her hands.

Momma told me Mr. Terrance worked three jobs to keep the family going, and she figured his heart just gave out even though he was only 42. Junior was 10 at the time, and that’s when folks started calling him “Big Daddy.” He was nearly 10 years older than me, and I never knew him as anything but. Back in those days, nobody thought anything about an unusual name. You just looked at the person and didn’t worry if their name was new to you.

Who Then Is This?

Who then is this?
Blazing fire
Fiery holiness, furious righteousness, fearsome wrathfulness
I fall to my knees, terrified

Who then is this?
Pink and plump cheeks
Adored innocence, admired humanness, alighted peacefulness
I fall to my knees, hopeful


Who then is this?
Straight and strong
Commanding wind and water, disease and demons
I fall to my knees, wondering

Who then is this?
Cross hammered
Bloodied and betrayed, accused and abandoned
I fall to my knees, ashamed

Who then is this?
Stone-rolling satisfaction
Arisen accomplishment, just justifier
I fall to my knees, accepted

The Most Unusual Wedding I Never Performed

When I was a young pastor I naively thought that the couples who asked me to officiate at their weddings would be mainly young, godly people who were raised in the church and who grew up attending Awana and the youth group. I figured they would be starry-eyed virgins with Scriptural values and godly examples from their own intact families of origin.

I learned pretty quickly that performing a wedding as a Christian pastor is complicated, and that people’s lives are often very broken. Sometimes it’s hard to know how to do the right thing. Especially if you care more about pleasing God than about pleasing people.

Rob and Rachel (not their real names) were an attractive couple in their early 30’s who began attending our church a few years ago. He had worked for a Christian non-profit agency in another state, and she was a personal trainer at a local gym.

Avalanche!

Adam and Chris had been best friends since grade school. They grew up in the same neighborhood and graduated high school together. And even though they went off to separate colleges and separate lives, they still stayed in touch.

They were in each other’s weddings, and they got together at least once a year to fish or hike or go to a ballgame.

Two weeks before Adam’s 40th birthday, he invited Chris to join him for a weekend of skiing and hiking up in the mountains. They rented a cabin and both left work early on Friday to drive up. The weather was clear Friday night, but snow was expected Saturday.

The Surprise Guest at the Funeral

Recently I had lunch with a pastoral colleague, and we started swapping funeral stories. Macabre? Maybe, but there are some pretty unusual things that happen at funerals. For example…

I was doing a graveside service for a lady in our church. Her casket was perched on one of those portable stands the funeral home provides. This one was on rollers. And the grave was on a hillside. I bet you can see what’s coming. I had just started into my remarks when the casket started moving. Downhill, of course. I blocked it with my body, and some of the other funeral staff jumped in. Disaster averted. But the lady’s daughter thought it was funny – “Mom was headed for the ocean,” she remarked.

THE GRATITUDE OF A NON-SUPERSTAR

It happened, late one afternoon, when David arose from his couch and was walking on the roof of the kings's house... (2 Samuel 11:2)

In the last couple weeks we’ve learned of an evangelical superstar who has left his church, his marriage and his faith. The twist on this story is that he penned a popular book about courting instead of dating that influenced a lot of Christians as the Scriptural blueprint for starting a godly marriage. Now, in the middle of divorce and apostasy, he has apologized for that book.

Forgiving the Unforgivable

How do you forgive the unforgivable? Someone murders a family member. A drunk driver slams into your car, and you’re in a wheelchair the rest of your life. A trusted friend molests your child. A member of your church who works as an investment counselor persuades you to put your life savings in his hands, and he loses it all. One of your best friends spreads rumors (all untrue) about you that result in your being ostracized by all your other friends. 

You could pick any one of the above, and call it "unforgivable." And sadly most of have personal scenarios that are equally grievous. How could you possibly forgive a person who has done any of these? How can you forgive the unforgivable?

The Powerful Kindness of Jesus

The Gospel stories show us Jesus in His humanity, and allow us to walk closer to Him,  and to know Him in smaller, deeper and more intimate ways. Like the lovely story of Jesus and the widow of Nain:

Soon afterwards he went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a great crowd went with him. As he drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and a considerable crowd from the town was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. (Luke 7:11-15)

Why this insignificant town?

Nain was a small, backwater place, mentioned only here in Scripture. Nobody went there to shop or for vacation. So why did Jesus? He had been in Capernaum (vv. 1-10), over 20 miles to Nain – a good day’s walk. Why Nain?

Dad and the Sawmill

He eased the old pickup into the driveway, the tires scrunching to a halt on the gravel. Switching off the ignition he just sat for a moment, his body still feeling the vibration of the rutted road that led from the lumberyard in town seven miles up the hill to his farm.

He rolled up the window, pulled the door handle and swung his legs out to the driveway. The summer breeze felt almost cold against his back where he had sweated through his shirt. He shoved the door shut and leaned against the truck. Removing his battered straw hat, he mopped his brow with his sleeve. His thinning hair, damp from the day's work, was molded to his head, and his gold-rimmed glasses were flecked with sawdust and dried sweat.

Working at the sawmill hadn’t been his first choice. A lot about the last few years hadn’t turned out the way he had hoped.

Dad and the Murdered Calf

Our culture has changed dramatically since I was a boy. One place I notice change is in parenting. Our culture challenges fathers in ways it never challenged me when I was a young dad. Young men today hear strident voices telling them they are responsible for all of society’s ills. Toxic masculinity, inherent male chauvinism, clueless gender roles, are a few of the grenades lobbed their way. I know the young dads today are up to the challenge. But as I remember my own father, I can't help but think that the current generation might learn a bit from him. So I’ve decided to do a few blog posts about him. This first one I posted in slightly different form some years ago. 

Three Habits to Prevent "Out of Sight, Out of Mind"

You’re familiar with the phrase, “out of sight, out of mind,” right? It summarizes a danger we all face - if friends moves away, will we just forget them? That does happen.

Or what about the challenges military families experience during deployments?  If a spouse is going to be gone for three months, or six months, or longer, how do the families at home keep those deployed close to their hearts when they’re not present physically? Marriages  have been wrecked when out of sight led to out of mind.

But the statement “out of sight, out of mind,” is not an inevitability, but only a danger. I have a dear friend I’ve known for over 40 years. In the last 20 years, he’s been “in sight” exactly three times, for only a week at a time. But we work hard to stay “in mind” through weekly phone calls and even more frequent emails and texts.

Impatience and a 40 MPH Speed Limit

I guess you’d say I’m an impatient person. Sometimes I yell at the microwave: Come on! One minute – are you KIDDING me!

I realize this is not one of my finer qualities. I like to excuse myself by saying, well, I just want to get things done. I don’t have time to dawdle. (How annoying is that, with the undercurrent of ugly pride? Okay, you got me.)

Anyhow I’m trying. I know patience is not only a virtue but a fruit of the Holy Spirit’s ministry in me. Although some of the spiritual fruit seem to be developing awfully slowly. (Come ON! Oh, oops…)

A New Book

I'm happy to announce I have a new book out - Leaning into the Wind - a collection of stories about Jesus and about family, with some humor and a little fiction mixed in.


From the back of the book: 

From a birthday paragliding adventure to a meditation on the death of a beloved pet, Leaning into the Wind reflects on the grace of God through all the seasons of life. Steeped in the love of family and a deep reverence for the sovereignty of God, Jim Carpenter tells stories about God's grace shining through our brokenness and pain.

You will find a laugh or two (Exploding Dog Food, My First Colonoscopy), some inspiring stories about the greatness of Jesus (Miracles Before Time Began, How God Healed My Son), and some overall encouragement for your own journey of faith (Don't Pull the Wagon Over Yet, Thanking Yourself Out of a Bad Mood).

Hope you like it. You can find it on Amazon. (Just paperback for now, but Kindle's coming.)

Don’t Spike the Ball before You Reach the End Zone: A Reflection on Finishing Well

Winning early is not the same as finishing well. Everyone has a story about some hotshot who wowed his company/school/coach and then flamed out before ever reaching the finishing line. The Bible has stories about such people, too.

I want to learn from those whose early success was marred (or erased) by a later implosion of professional or personal failure.