So humble the way He came to us, but so precious the path that has led for all of us from that manger.
I thought I was done with Christmas posts for this year, but another has come to mind. It’s to do with Christmas songs again, with another favorite of mine. And it ties into our pastor’s sermon yesterday.
The song is “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing”. It’s not quite my favorite Christmas sone, but it’s close: in the top five if not the top three. We didn’t sing it in any church service this year until yesterday. The words were written by Charles Wesley in 1739. The music is by Felix Mendelssohn. According to Hymnary.org, it has been published in 1,242 hymnals. It’s a great hymn for a brass-dominated orchestra. Thous it also sounds good with a string quartet. It sounds especially good when sung by the Celtic Women.
Toward the end of his sermon, Pastor Mark focused on the third verse. Whenever the song is sung, you rarely get into it past the second verse. In fact, while I fell in love with the third verse many years ago, I’d long forgotten those wonderful words:
Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
risen with healing in his wings.
Mild he lays his glory by,
born that we no more may die,
born to raise us from the earth,
born to give us second birth.
There, in language now considered archaic though still understood, is a wonderful message. Why did Christ come to earth? So that God’s purpose in redemption would be fulfilled. So that sinful mankind could be reconciled to God and put on a right and righteous path in a difficult world. How beautifully this verse says that. “…born that we no more may die, born to raise us from the earth, born to give us second birth.” No preacher has ever said it better than that. No other song has said it in clearer or more melodious language.
Hence, I should really say nothing else. Christmas may have been the day before yesterday, but the Christmas season is still with us. Take a moment to sing “Hark, The Herald Angels Sing”, getting in all three verses (the song actually has more than three), and enjoy the richness of the message.
I’m hardly the first person to write about this. I found a blog post by one Daisy Rosales that was quite well done. It would be well worth your time to pop over there and read it.
Once again, merry Christmas. I continue to say that because we are still in the season. I’m still listening to Christmas carols as I do my work. I hope you do too.
Well done, good and faithful servant. We will miss you, but rejoice at your current status with your heavenly Father.
Death seems to be all around of late. My sister not so long ago. Church friends earlier in the year. Classmates from high school. Something like 80 out of 725 people listed in our senior yearbook are now dead. Just this morning I learned of the death of a former pastor’s daughter, who I was working with as I write a church history. Writing remembrances should be getting easier, but it’s not.
On Dec. 7, our friend from church, Gary Borchert, crossed the river from life to death. Here is his obituary. Only 73 years old, but a life well-spent.
Gary and Sue came into our lives around 1995-96. They visited our church one Sunday. We did not meet them at the service. Lynda and I were at that time part of a ministry that went to the homes of those who visited the church and gave them a small gift, maybe a coffee mug and a jar of jam. We got Gary and Sue. I remember going to their home, then in Rogers, and the time we spent with them. They were very open to our visit and kept us there an hour or so, just talking. They were horse people, having acreage at their house, which back then was at the edge of Rogers. It wouldn’t be long before the city started closing in around them and they did the wise thing of selling their property and moving to a house in Bella Vista.
They became faithful attenders at and members of our church. They formed the nucleus of the “Amen Corner” from a row up front, always worshiping with abandon, not worrying about who was behind them, watching them. At one point the pastor asked them to attend the start of the second worship service (after they had been in the first), for it was a little dead and they were an example to others on how to praise God without concern of what people thought of you. In our adult Sunday school class, he was always ready with a comment or question.
Gary’s life was one of accomplishment. He served his country in the Air Force and was in Vietnam. I remember a Sunday School class I taught around Christmastime one year. Gary and Sue were in it. Dealing with Christmas memories, I asked, “So where were you at Christmas 1969?” (or a year either side of that) Most of us were in high school or younger. Gary answered that with one word: Danang. What a way to spend Christmas.
Gary had a voice for radio, and he worked in that industry for many years. He took part in dramas at church, and, if I remember correctly, narrated from time to time. His most famous role in a church drama was as Dr. No, even shaving his head for the part. Another role he played was being father to his grandson after their daughter’s untimely death. This would prove to be a challenge, one that Gary and Sue met with grace, and, when called for, tough love.
Somewhere along the way, after we met them, Gary became involved in a workplace accident. I don’t remember the particulars, but it injured his back. He struggled with this the rest of his life. The first struggle was with the insurance company, or maybe it was with workers’ compensation. I played an unwitting part in that. While he hobbled on foot as much as he could, Gary was trying to get a motorized cart to help him get around. We had a Sunday school class blog at the time, and after seeing Gary struggle to walk one Sunday, I posted that it was good to see him walking. I meant it as an encouragement to him. The insurance company saw it and said, “Ah ha! He doesn’t need a motorized cart.” They eventually straightened it out and he got the cart, but the bureaucratic struggle added to the physical struggles.
An example of Gary’s willingness to serve, and his desire to be of use even with his limited mobility, was Easter Sunday 2010. We were in the midst of a parking lot renovation. Who does that when Easter Sunday is upon you, right? But that’s the way it happened. I was in charge of getting those improvements done and, knowing the condition it would be in that day, worked with our pastoral staff and the men’s ministry to have at least five parking attendants for each service, helping people to navigate to the parts of the lot that were usable. Gary responded to the request for volunteers and showed up early that day, in his motorized cart, and waved cars to a certain row until it was full. Then he pulled forward and waved them to the next row. He showed us all what Christian service was all about.
A great couple, lovers of Jesus, servants in the church.
Over the years, Gary dealt with health issues and had operations and times in the hospital with severe infections. The pain from his injuries, complications from them, and loss of mobility made life difficult for him. He met the challenges. Though, he wasn’t always the best patient. He would resist going to the hospital when Sue thought he needed to and wanted to be discharged before it was wise. I remember a talk I had with him about that, reminding him that his wife was a registered nurse and had a better understanding of his health than he did. He did much better after that.
On one screen, I have Gary’s picture up. On this screen what I type. Gary, we will miss you. Sue and Kody will miss you. But we rejoice that you are now pain free, infection free, and that your radio voice is competing with the choir of angels as you narrate the stories of God and His Son Jesus. You have now heard the words that the rest of us will someday hear, a day that gets closer for all of us: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Come share in your Master’s happiness.”
Christmas at the Outlet store in downtown Providence, probably 1953. Edward came along in January 1954.
On Saturday, November 27, 2021, my sister, Norma Lilly Todd, left this world for the next, the heavenly one, after a long, long illness. You may find her obituary here.
She was 16 months older than me, two years ahead of me in school. Born Sept 5, 1950 in Providence, RI, she was a premie by at least a month, maybe more. This would show up years later in her health problems.
Four maternal generations at Norma’s christening, winter of 1950-51
We were raised in Cranston, RI, joined two years after my birth by our brother Edward. Norma, as the oldest, was the one to one supply childhood names for our grandparents, Gar and Grime—names that stuck forever. She established the pattern of the Todd children being scholars (a pattern Edward broke, not because he lacked smarts, but because he had to carve out a different territory for himself).
When Mom died in 1965, Norma was 14, I was 13, and Edward was 11. A lot of the burden of the family duties fell on her. Of course, Mom was so sick leading up to her death that we all were already doing most of the chores a mother would do, including Dad taking on much of the cooking. But Norma probably had a greater burden than Edward and me.
Norma graduated with honors along the way, from Cranston High School East in 1968. She went on to Rhode Island College, graduating in 1972 with a B.S. in Elementary Education.
The family, one Sunday about to embark for church.
She discovered that teaching young children really wasn’t her calling, and instead went into retail, working at a Pier One Imports close to our house. They offered her a management position in Evansville, Indiana. So she became the first of the fledglings to fly the coop in, if I remember correctly, November 1973. I did the same in June 1974, moving to Kansas City.
Daddy’s little girl
Once we moved away from each other, and in the age back when long-distance telephone was still expensive, communications became infrequent and visits even more so. I drove from KC to Evansville to visit her twice before I married, and she flew to KC twice to visit Lynda and me after we married. Since, over the years, we made many trips from KC or Arkansas to Rhode Island, we stopped often in Evansville to see her.
At Mom’s grave, 1965
Norma’s health was never good, and she didn’t have a lot of strength. At some point, maybe around 1990-91, she left her retail management position—which involved her unloading delivery trucks—and went to work as a receptionist at her church, a job she held until her retirement around three or four years ago. Her connection to that is an interesting story, one that I had a part in. When I visited her in October, 1974, I witnessed to her about my conversion experience (from being a nominal, Christian-in-name-only to being born again). After my trip, she wrote me a letter saying thanks but no thanks. It was less than a year later that she sent me a card, saying something on front like, “I meant to call, I meant to write, I meant to visit, but I didn’t so…” and then, inside, “…I’m praying for you.” In that card she wrote about her conversion. Needless to say, I hopped in the car as soon as I could and visited her over the weekend, including Sunday morning service at Bethel Temple.
Norma’s high school graduation photo, 1968, Cranston High School East
Norma was a girl scout growing up, active in that throughout her school years. As an adult, her interests outside of work and church included crafts, especially making greeting cards. Each birthday and holiday we received a homemade, personalized card from her.
Norma never married. If she had boyfriends along the way she didn’t tell me about them.
About 10-15 years ago, she called to say she had been diagnosed with uterine cancer. In the course of the examinations, they discovered she had only 40 percent lung capacity, most likely as a result of her premature birth. Due to her general health condition, they would not operate for her cancer. They treated it by radiation, and she was considered a cancer survivor.
A more recent photo, probably from the early 2000s.
But her health deteriorated over the years as her knees wore out and she battled the bulge, like everyone in our family did. She had been confined to a wheelchair, though still living at home. Various friends looked in on her. It was August this year that she took a turn for the worse, spending the rest of her time in hospitals, rehab, and a nursing home. When we last talked by phone, she requested that we not come out and see her. “We went our separate ways long ago,” she said. We reluctantly honored her wish. She had her after-death arrangements made, which included cremation and no services.
Norma is survived by me, our half-sister Deb Harris, six nephews and nieces, many cousins, and a host of friends, mainly in Evansville. I want to give special recognition to Bob and Ellan, the friends who have given her much help and lots of time over the years, especially lately.
On our last visit, in Evansville in October 2015
A popular response to the death of a loved one is to say they have joined so and so in heaven and is now looking down on us. I’m not sure that’s biblical, though it may be comforting. But I do know that’s where Norma is now, because of her faith in Jesus. She fought the good fight; she finished the race; she kept the faith. She has now heard those words that all who love Jesus want to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy of the Lord.”
What would you do if you were reading a book and came across this in it:
bowing at the altar of individualism, including individualist spirituality
I encountered it in a book I recently read. I won’t say what the book is, nor why I was reading it.
Let’s just say that I’ve run across this concept time and time again recently. Individualism is bad. Rugged individualism is a sin. We need to expunge individualism from society and the church. You can’t do discipleship solo. I don’t understand this concept. But perhaps we need to take a moment and define what individualism is. A modern dictionary definition is:
1. the habit or principle of being independent and self-reliant.
2. a social theory favoring freedom of action for individuals over collective or state control.
Wikipedia has the following “executive summary” for their article on individualism:
Individualism is the moral stance, political philosophy, ideology and social outlook that emphasizes the moral worth of the individual. Individualists promote the exercise of one’s goals and desires and to value independence and self-reliance and advocate that interests of the individual should achieve precedence over the state or a social group while opposing external interference upon one’s own interests by society or institutions such as the government. Individualism is often defined in contrast to totalitarianism, collectivism and more corporate social forms.
Individualism makes the individual its focus and so starts “with the fundamental premise that the human individual is of primary importance in the struggle for liberation”. Anarchism, existentialism, liberalism and libertarianism are examples of movements that take the human individual as a central unit of analysis. Individualism involves “the right of the individual to freedom and self-realization”.
Individualism has been used as a term denoting “[t]he quality of being an individual; individuality”, related to possessing “[a]n individual characteristic; a quirk”. Individualism is also associated with artistic and bohemian interests and lifestyles where there is a tendency towards self-creation and experimentation as opposed to tradition or popular mass opinions and behaviors such as with humanist philosophical positions and ethics.
I’m really having trouble finding anything wrong with individualism, based on these definitions. I don’t find the necessity of such extreme manifestations of individualism as anarchism or bohemianism. For all conditions in society, you will find extreme examples, be that for individualism or the opposite. And, what is the opposite of individualism? Is it collectivism? Is it tribalism? Is it state-ism? Enquiring minds want to know.
The concept of self-reliance seems good to me. Don’t burden family or society any more than you have to. Can someone explain to me what’s wrong with doing for yourself to the greatest extent possible rather than burdening society?
Sometimes I think the war on people wanting to be unique individuals is an extrovert vs. introvert thing. Neither one fully understands the other, but I think extroverts tend to be more aggressive in trying to make the introvert be more extroverted than the other way around. Maybe I’m wrong about that, but as one who leans more to the introverted end of the spectrum, that’s what it seems to me. Sometimes people just want to be left alone, to do for themselves—to be an individual rather than one of the herd.
When I encountered “bowing to the altar of individualism” in that book, a clear case of over-the-top rhetoric in my not so humble opinion, I came close to throwing it in the trash. But I never throw any book in the trash, not even those I disagree strongly with. I have thrown out a couple that were cheaply made and had fallen apart, but not for disagreement.
Complete self-reliance is, or course, impossible unless one can live in a remote cabin somewhere and have the skills necessary to live alone. If someone can do that and maintain their Christian faith, God bless them, let them do that. But the world’s population is too large to allow many people to do that. Mankind has to mix in society nowadays and has had to for a long time. But why not live as self-reliantly as possible? Why not, when encountered with a task that needs to be done, say “How can I accomplish this on my own?” rather than to say “Who can I get to do this with me?” Why burden society if I can do it myself?
I’m no hermit. I’m not fully self-sufficient, nor do I want to be. But I don’t bow at any altar of individualism and I resent that statement. I see the moral worth of the individual. I believe each individual needs to do his best to take care of himself first before seeking help from society. And I don’t see that changing.
One more book like the last one coming being suggested for me and…I won’t be buying any more from it.
In my last post, I made some comments on C.S. Lewis’s essay “Christianity and Culture”. I decided to re-read it, finishing it on Saturday. I’m now in the process of reading the train of criticism it provoked and Lewis’s response to the criticism. Last night I went looking for the criticism, and found it on-line. Alas, it was all behind a paywall. In the next few days I may spend a little more time to see if it exists somewhere else on the internet that doesn’t require a financial outlay.
But Lewis got me to thinking, and I journaled about it Saturday night and may journal about it again. Lewis wondered, several years after his conversion, if the cultured, educated life he was living and earning his living from was compatible with Christianity. He said that he had come to the conclusion that the end/goal of the Christian’s life must be to glorify God and see His kingdom increased. Did the cultured life, a.ka. the literary life wherein literature is pursued as an end in itself, contribute to these two aims of the Christian life?
Lewis concluded the cultured life was not incompatible with Christianity. To do so he searched the scriptures, the early Christian writers, and many later Christian writers from Catholic and Protestant sources.
All of which led me to wonder whether my vocation and leisure was compatible with the aims of Christianity. Of course, I left my vocation behind for retirement. For 44 years I spent my time engineering public infrastructure and private developments. I did this in five states and three countries. I earned a good living at it. I think I helped the world, and in some cases changed the world, by practicing that profession. While doing so, I believe I did it as a faithful and devout Christian. When asked to pay a bribe while in Saudi Arabia—a request made by a fellow American expat—I refused. When some Bible extract booklets were shipped to be by mistake, I distributed them in-country, including to a Lebanese Muslim expat.
I could go on blowing my own horn, but that’s not a good thing to do. I only do so to show why I come to the conclusion that the decades I spent in my chosen profession were compatible with Christian discipleship, a conclusion arrived at with considerably less searching than Lewis did.
What about now? I actually have two new professions. One, of course, is writing. My books and stories are a mix of overtly Christian and secular underpinned by a Christian worldview. I don’t have a lot of sales and no notoriety, but it’s difficult to see how that would be incompatible with Christian discipleship.
My other “occupation” in “retirement” is stock trading, or securities trading as defined by the IRS: buying and selling stocks and options for the ake of generating income and building wealth. On the surface that looks a little more iffy. Again, taking a somewhat superficial look at it, securities trading is not inherently evil. It could be looked at the same as buying and selling paintings, or buying and selling baseball cards, hoping to have a gain. With securities, it’s all done in an account, you don’t have an inventory of goods to deal with.
It would seem to be acceptable so long as you do it right. No insider trading (as if I had access to such). No risky speculation. Tithe the gain and give offerings on top of that. Pay taxes on the gain according to the law. It would seem to me that with those stipulations this second retirement vocation is not incompatible to Christian discipleship.
One other thing to consider is if following these retirement occupations is causing me to shirk other responsibilities. My answer to that is no. As I look at the things I do around the house, in the family, in church and community, I think I’m doing okay with what I do.
This little bit of thought has taxed my brain. I’ve given all this a cursory, perhaps shallow, analysis and concluded I’m not wrong in my retirement pursuits. I hope I’m right.
‘Twas in this book that I found the essay “Christianity and Culture”. I will need to read it another time or two to fully understand it.
A few posts back I mentioned C.S. Lewis and trying to find the source of a quote attributed to him. I found it in my personal library. That caused me to keep that book in hand and read some in it. ‘Twas not so long ago that I finished a book, had one other one to work on, and wanted a second in my active reading pile. Perfect, I thought. Two thirds of this book is a compilation some of of his essays and lectures. Perfect, I thought. I can read it for a day or two and lay it aside.
The first I read was “The Humanitarian Theory of Punishment”, a Lewis magazine article anthologized in God In The Dock. The second was “Christianity and Culture”, an earlier magazine article anthologized in Christian Reflections. A bookmark showed that I had started reading this back in 2019 and got halfway through it. Perfect, I thought, I’ll finish this essay and go on to the next one.
And finish it I did, reading it slowly and closely, even rereading it, trying to absorb what Lewis was saying. After all, if I am a Christian and want to impact the culture around me, surely Lewis would give me helpful instructions, or at least suggestions and hints.
Alas, that’s not at all what this essay was about. By “culture” Lewis doesn’t mean it in a dictionary sense: “the customs, arts, social institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people, or other social group”. Nor does he mean it as a verb in a scientific sense: “maintain (tissue cells, bacteria, etc.) in conditions suitable for growth”. No, by “culture” he means what I would call “cultured”: “characterized by refined taste and manners and good education”.
The gist of the essay was whether a cultured person could be a Christian.
First off, I dislike that term, cultured. It implies a type of refinement, a type of “better-than-others” implication. Maybe Lewis didn’t mean it in that way. Maybe it’s just another way to describe a segment of humanity to differentiate them from that part of humanity that has not had the best of education, and whose manners and tastes are not so refined. You know, to differentiate the hot dog eaters from the caviar eaters.
But my question is: Why is this even up for debate? Why take up a whole essay on this, Mr. Lewis? Surely we can find Christians in all walks of life, in all degrees of refinement.
Upon reflection, however, I think Lewis has a valid reason for asking this. Maybe in England there was a greater class distinction between the life of culture and the life of commonness. When Lewis was a schoolboy, all those charged with educating and guiding him saw he had an exceptional intellect. They steered him into the cultured life—a life of education, where he would then teach others. He ought to work with him mind, not his hands. He was a very willing participant in this, as he saw that he wanted to live this kind of life. He lived and breathed learning, hoping to become an Oxford don, and maybe even a professor.
World War 1 caused a delay in the education, but eventually Lewis was exactly where he wanted to be, at Oxford University, tutoring students and lecturing to attentive audiences. While he wasn’t wealthy (a condition usually associated with cultured people), he was living a life of culture, as he called it.
Then came Christianity, as from 1929 to 1931 Lewis moved from his atheism to belief in Jesus as the only begotten Son of God. His outlook changed along with his beliefs. But what didn’t change was his occupation or expectations of life. He was still living as a cultured person, still lecturing, still tutoring, still enjoying happy times with friends at the pub or on holiday walking tours. While his outlook on sin and holiness had changed, not much else had.
Fast forward to the end of the 1930s. Lewis began to wonder if this was right. If he made a radical change in his life by becoming a Christian, shouldn’t everything change? He asked the question: Can I live a life of culture now that I’m a Christian? If not, he would have to give up a lot: his way of making a living and his cherished activities of leisure.
According to Lewis’s article, he went through extensive studies to make a decision about this. He read major Christian writers from the past, the distant and then recent past, and concluded that nothing about being a Christian would require him to change his profession or give up those things he found enjoyment in. He continued to teach, continued to write books and essays and articles and lectures. Along the way, he added defending the Christian faith. And millions of people through the decades are glad that he did.
I think what Lewis went through is worthwhile for everyone to go through when they make a commitment to Jesus. Does my way of life—my work, my recreation, my habits, my friendships—need to change, either marginally or drastically, to live the life God wants me to live? Perhaps I’ll explore this some more in future posts. For now, I think I’ll re-read “Christianity and Culture” again to make sure I fully understand Lewis’s conundrum.
Somehow, these pages had to speak to me and tell a story thought lost forever.
As I’ve written here before, I’ve been working on the book for our church’s Centennial. It was July 8, but due to the pandemic and construction adjacent to the church, we pushed the celebration back a year. It was last November that our pastor asked if I would do it, I said I would, and got going on it. It took me a while to get into it, but by January I was rolling.
As I researched the history and wrote the book, one item nagged at me. We had twelve acknowledged charter members, but a statement about our first church service said there were 63 charter members. Who were the other 51? I didn’t have the names because, if they kept records during those first 3 1/2 years, they are lost. The fourth pastor, Rev Joe Mickel Tyson, began keeping records on Jan 1, 1925. One good thing he did was reach back into the past and write the names of those he knew of that were members before he came. I imagine he queried the then-current members to ask who had been members and left before he got there.
Somewhere in those names were the missing 51 charter members. I was sure of it. There were 170 names who were members of the church before Rev. Tyson came. Subtracting the 12 who were known left 158 names from whom to extract the 51 who were the unknown charter members. I knew it would be an impossible task, so I decided not to do it.
Then, I finished writing the book, and I thought again about the 51 unknown charter members, and the 158 names gathered by Rev. Tyson, and decided I needed to see if there was any way to research those people and make an educated decision as to which of the 158 were the 51. Is this making sense?
So, it was sometime in July, I think, that I decided to do the research. Today I finished it. Two months, maybe a little more, pouring over the names, looking in on-line genealogical and related databases, to see what I could learn about them. I was about three weeks into the process and was, I thought, about 3/4 done, when I realized I needed some type of objective criteria to use for making the 158 decisions I needed to make. I took a few days off to ponder what criteria I could use and developing those criteria. Once established, I had to start over with the research.
I wasn’t able to do this fulltime, as other endeavors needed my attention. But rare was the day since I started in July that I didn’t do some work on it to some extent. When this week began, I felt that I was down to needing to choose about 14 more members from about 40 names. I decided it was time to knuckle down and get it done. As of Thursday night, I had all but two people fully researched. I had them and another 8 people to choose between for the last two final charter members.
Friday morning I went back to it. The two remaining names were Mr. & Mrs. L.F. Barry (yeah, Rev. Tyson mainly used initials for the men and no names for their wives, only “Mrs.”). I didn’t find the Barrys in our county in the 1920 census, one of my criteria. Nor did I find them elsewhere. I searched a little deeper, and found a marriage record for L.F. Barry and Jessie Weaver in our county in 1915. Bingo! They were here. He was 66 and she was 36 and had never been married. But were they still here in 1921? Did they really have any connection to our church?
I had looked for this couple before at the finagrave.com website and not found them. I looked again. And there, in the main cemetery in Bentonville, was Lafayette Barry. He died in 1936 and was the right age for someone who was 66 in the 1915 marriage license. And, someone had pulled the story of his death and funeral from an archived newspaper and attached it to his grave record. In that story, our church featured prominently. I had my final couple. Based on the criteria I established, the list of charter members was complete.
Is it right? My criteria isn’t perfect. Of the seven criteria, five are not as rigorous as I would like. I could easily include someone who wasn’t a charter member and exclude someone who was. But it’s the best I can do. It may be the best anyone can do. As one of the Centennial committee members said to me, “No one is going to question who you designate as those missing members.” I suppose that’s correct.
So the major research project is over. I now have a small section of the Centennial book to rewrite to insert these names. And I have to gather all my research notes and put them in a reasonable format to store in the church office. I don’t want someone writing the sesquicentennial book, in 2071, to bemoan that guy who wrote the Centennial book and did a slipshod job of researching.
A gentle soul, Thelma will be missed by a host of people. May God comfort those who knew and loved her.
A long time member of our church, Thelma Louise (Baggett) Skaggs, went to her heavenly reward on September 9, 2021. She was 82 years old. While the death of someone of that age is obviously possible at any time, her death was still sudden, occurring two days after she had a medical procedure performed.
Thelma was probably the member of our church with roots going furthest back to our founding. As I’ve been researching our history to write our Centennial book, it didn’t take long to learn that her family had been continuously part of the church the longest time period. Her uncle Dallas Baggett found salvation in a revival the church held around 1929 and before long had his whole family coming to church, including Thelma’s father, Lonas.
I sort of knew some of this before, but learned in from Thelma in two interviews, one by phone and one in person. In addition to those interviews, I talked briefly with Thelma a number of other times as questions came up that I hoped she could help me with: identify someone in a photo, learn who had been part of the church at different times, hear anything she knew about a certain family from the distant past. She never hesitated to help me however she could. Prior to my work on this book, I knew Thelma, but more to say hi than to have long conversations. My mother-in-law was in the Life Group class that Thelma’s husband, Bob, taught, which resulted in my interacting with them from time to time.
Thelma was a pianist extraordinaire. She was one of the rare musicians who could play both by ear and by sight. Put any piece of music in front of her and she could play it. If she heard a song on the radio, she could go to her piano and play it without a musical score in front of her. Her musical ability became apparent when she was just 3 years old.
It was less than three months ago that her son, Steve, passed away suddenly. Now Thelma dies as well, also sudden, but obviously different at her age (82) as opposed to Steve’s (57). Bob is left to carry on with his two remaining children, grandchildren, brother, and in-laws and other relatives and friends. I can’t imagine the pain he is going through. Two deaths so close together has to be hard to deal with. But Bob is strong, and has many memories to recall and cherish.
Heaven gained another musician this month. That heavenly choir has a new accompanist, playing by ear or by sight or by practice. And Thelma has now heard those words we all long to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in life. Now come, share in your master’s happiness.”
This is like a time capsule of Christian fiction around the turn of the millennium. Well worth the read for anyone writing Christian fiction.
Some time ago (as in a couple of months), having finished reading a book and wanting to find one to read that I wouldn’t keep, thus reducing my inventory, I found on the bookshelf tucked in my close Behind The Stories: Christian Novelists Reveal the Heart in the Art of their Writing. I don’t know where I got this, but suspect I picked it up at a thrift store. Nor do I know how long I’ve had it, but I suspect ten years. The copyright date is 2002. I have a fair number of books for writers on writing and publishing, and I need to work through them, read the ones I haven’t read and decide if any of the ones I have read I shouldn’t keep.
That makes it almost a time capsule type of piece. The author is Diane Eble, though in some ways she is more of an editor than an author. The book covers three to four page stories from 40 Christian novelists. This is as things existed in 2002, or a year before that based on publication schedules. So it misses any that came to prominence before that. Many of the names are familiar: Jerry B. Jenkins, Karen Kingsbury, Janette Oke, Bodie Thoene, Terri Blackstock, Francine Rivers, Beverly Lewis. Others are not as famous, but I actually met some of them at writers conferences: Robin Jones Gunn, Alton Gansky, Angela Elwell Hunt, Deborah Raney. They cover the full spectrum of types of Christian fiction.
It was encouraging to read their stories. Almost every one of them went through some kind of trial. Maybe it was a difficult childhood. Maybe it was a struggle to find their voice. Maybe it was the busyness of life. Each persevered and found authorial success. That is an encouragement for me.
I rate the book 4-stars. It loses a star for something I can’t quite put my finger on. And, it is not a keeper. Next time I leave The Dungeon, I will go out to the garage, and take it to join the other books for sale. Maybe someone else can find meaning in these brief stories.
Six ads running for this, getting impressions, clicks, and a few sales. Other promotion is bearing fruit.
This morning I went outside to work shortly after I got up at 6:45 a.m. The temperature was 60°, and it felt good. I planned to work a half hour, mainly cleaning up a few things and pulling a few weeds from the backyard. When I did what I wanted and went inside, I was surprised to find I’d worked more than 45 minutes. I was way past scheduled time for my blog post, but I wasn’t worried about it since I had a post partially started—two posts actually—and thus could post it quickly once I got to it.
Alas, I finally came to my dashboard here, found there was only one post, and realized it is no where ready to be posted. Bad memory I have.
So here I am with nothing prepared to say. I could talk about any number of things off the cuff: what I’m writing, what I’m reading, how book sales are, what I’m doing for book sales promotion, life in general. I guess I could tackle all of those.
I’m still working on little changes to the church centennial book. I got some new information yesterday that will require a minor change. I also have decided to double-check a couple of places in the book. One I’m fairly sure will require a change, the other one maybe or maybe not. Still, I come closer to done on this every day. Also, my short story inches along. Every couple of days I open the file, re-read it to remember where I was, and add a few hundred words. I need an uninterrupted , undistracted couple of hours to finish it.
For reading, my time is taken up with Way Truth Life, the book for our Life Group lessons. I’m also reading a book on the Genesis flood. Sorry, I don’t remember the exact title, except that it might be The Genesis Flood. It is a scholarly work from the late 50s-early 60s. I’m not enjoying it a whole lot, but will stay with it a while longer. As to recently finished books, I have four sitting here on my work table waiting for me to write my book reviews.
Book sales are good in September. So far I have 14 sales outright, and I think two accesses from Kindle Unlimited with both people finishing the book. This is my first time to have KU reads (not many of my books are in KU), and I need to figure how to account for them in my stats. I suppose as 2 sales, bringing the total to 16. That’s a good start to the month.
Sometime soon I’ll make a presentation to the local Civil War Roundtable. That will be my first author event since June 2019.
I have been a little more active in book promotion the last week. I still have my Amazon ads running for three books, and they seem to be generating sales. I contacted two influencers in our denomination, both men I’ve interacted with in the past, about giving a shout out to Acts Of Faith. I heard back from one on Friday and he is going to put a promo in his next newsletter. Another promotional item concerns my Civil War book, Documenting America: The Civil War Edition. Back in July I gave a copy of it to the president of the local Civil War Roundtable. I heard back from him yesterday. He liked the book and wants me to make a presentation to the Roundtable. I don’t yet know when that will be, but should know today or tomorrow. So book promotion is in progress and, at least a little, seems to be working.
Life in general is good. I’m still having trouble losing weight, but in general my weight is dropping very slowly. My blood sugars have been under control, though just a little higher than I’d like. This morning’s was good. My right knee has been hurting more of late. Perhaps replacement surgery will have to be moved up. Although, the last three or four days I’ve done a few different things to try and ease the pain and it seems to be working. Four nights of good sleep in a row. Yardwork is in much better shape than in past years. Household projects are slowly being done. My devotional life remains consistent, with room for improvement.
Life goes on. I’ll have a better post on Friday, and will start getting some of these book reviews done.
