My Cup Runneth Over

The old hymn tells us to count your many blessings, name them one by one.

Today I decided to do so.

And what did I find? In spite of the problems and situations and difficulties life seems to throw on a constant basis these days, my cup runneth over.

I am blessed in more ways I can count. From a loving spouse, wonderful kids, great parents, and friends who love me and are loved in return, I am so blessed.

I am blessed. Two new books came in the mail today. I can’t wait to start one of them–ASAP. I am blessed.

The cast comes off tomorrow. For at least a few minutes until they decide what comes next, I’ll be able to freely scratch my ankle, leg, and foot–and maybe even wash my toes. I am blessed.

In just a few minutes my sweet wife will be back from Sonic bearing a large Diet Coke with ice like only Sonic makes it.

Do you get the picture? Yes, I am blessed!

Try saying those words and find how they are true in your life. Share the blessing. Share the news.

Be blessed. I know I am!

Les, Jr.

Cole Got A Job!

Today we meet a job coach. For Cole. He’s excited. I am too.

In case you don’t know Cole, he is our 17 year old son. He has the biggest most infectious smile you will ever see.

Most always happy. Talkative. Playful. Loves people.

Thinks fellow teens Andrew McCaughan and Bradley Townsley can do no wrong. Likes riding with Pam Dunn. Considers Bill Collins his best friend (and He’s old!). Loves computers and video games.

Wants to drive a car more than anything.

Will settle for a job instead.

And while Cole has Cerbral Palsey and neither walks nor talks like most folks do, Cole will be the first to tell you he’s not handicapped. There are a great many days in which I am inclined to believe him.

I have written about Cole before–mostly on my old xanga blog site. I’ve showed pictures of Cole running in the Special Olympics. Soon, I hope to show you Cole proudly at work at Redd Pest Solutions (thank you, thank you, thank you!) here in Gulfport.

Cole has a job. He’s excited. I am too. I am happy for the time where he gets to feel if not normal by the world’s standards at least productive and engaged in a new venue.

If he would only quit teasing his little brother Conner about being able to buy a new video game every week…

I wish with all my heart that Cole didn’t have to face all of the physical, mental, and social barriers he will encounter during the whole of his life. I am thankful that he does it with a smile on his face. I tearfully pray that one day the world will see the value of people like Cole and smile with him and smile with them!

Go get ‘em, son!

Dad (Les, Jr. to the rest of you)

Take A WWW Trip…

Since I was 18 and John was 17, we have been the best of friends. College roommates, co-workers at camp (two different ones), and now preachers on the Mississippi Gulf Coast–we have had a lifetime of experiences. Sometime I’ll have to write about our many trips to Tulsa together (I’m the Giver!).

At any rate, John has been blogging for awhile now and his blogs have been sources of inspiration–especially as he has chronicled the Central Church of Christ through their hurricane relief efforts.

His current blog is worth your time and effort. Whether you agree with his conclusions or not, it is challenging and thought provoking.

Take a web trip and check out Out Here Hope Remains.

God Bless!

Les, Jr.

From Woo Hoo to Boo Hoo

The Ride is over. It was fun. It was inspiring. It was exciting. It was entertaining.

But, it is after all, only a game. And while I love football, the truth is, there are more important things in life.

Like eternity and being ready for it. Eternity and helping others find the One Who Saves.

I am thankful for the God who allows us to enjoy some of the diversions this life has to offer.

I pray that God help his people keep the right perspective.

May our influence and His Tribe increase!

Les, Jr.

The Saints Go Marching In!!!

WOO HOO!

GO SAINTS!

Stupid Dog

I love dogs. Really I do. I think all dogs should have a boy to play with. I think all dogs should have a big yard to romp in. And truly, I believe with a passion that dogs are meant for the outside (I could write some interesting stuff about that one, but in the interest of fairness, I’ll probably leave it alone. With the possible exception of writing sometime about the dead dog that once resided in our freezer).

However, I believe that I am in possession of either the stupidest dog that ever lived or I am the stupidest dog owner to ever own a dog.

Just three weeks or so after hurricane Katrina, the dog my boys have grown up with had to be put to sleep. He was a collie named Sergeant Pepper. And while I am a Beatles fan, the dog got his name by way of compromise. Kyle who was about 8 at the time wanted to call him pepper. Dad–that being me–wanted to call him Sergeant. We ended with Sergeant Pepper. At any rate, Sergeant Pepper was was Kyle’s dog for 11 years. Conner was born after we became pet owners and was a fast dog friend until Seargent Pepper was gone at Conner’s age of 8.

So, in an effort to ease the grief of a devastated eight year old whose entire world was topsy turvy, we got an 8 week old border collie. His name is Bullet and now he runs like a bullet and disappears like a bullet. As in out of the fence. Gone. Vamoose. Out of here.

Ever since we moved into the new digs, Bullet has been pulling a disappearing act daily. We have tried tying him up. He howls like banshee.

This morning we tried an new tactic. My good friend and brother, Doug Stone, came and installed a electric fence/ containment barrier that is supposed to beep at Bullet as he gets close and then zap him (not hard enough!!!).

And so we did. I hobbled along and got on my hands and knees and tried to help without being pitiful. By the the time we were through, I was very thankful for Loratab.

After fitting the collar and trying it out, we finally let Bullet loose. He approached the fence (really just a wire in the ground) and yelped as it shocked him…and then he jumped over it and promptly found his before-now-undiscovered hole in the fence.

Believe it or not, he came back in about 10 minutes. We patched the holes and the dog is safe.

Now here’s the funny part. The dog is in the yard and as far as we can tell has stayed here all day. But outside the containment area. He is terrified of that part of the yard. We put him in and he yelps and hollers on his way out. You can find him even as I type cowering on the back patio.

I don’t know who is stupider, me or the dog (maybe I should turn off the comments section for this particular post)?

I don’t even know whether or not to even try and make some kind of spiritual application.

So instead I’ll settle for offering you a bit of friendly advice: You can invite me to eat, you can ask me to preach, but never ever request me to train your dog for good behavior. Chances are the dog is stupid and will not listen to a thing I have to say!

Les Ferguson, Jr. The Hobbled One

Crutches & An Orange Cast

Yep. That’s me. Hobbling around on two metal sticks and hauling with me this big, ungainly, ugly thing encasing what is commonly known as a foot. And it is bright orange. At least it was in the beginning. Now it is blue. Maybe it will stay that way ’till the blooming thing is taken off for good.

I am not a good patient. I hate not being able to drive for eight crazy weeks. I generally do pretty good in the mornings and I am tired by mid afternoon–or should I say hurting?

Wah, wah, wah. 

Are you beginning to feel sorry for me yet? I didn’t think so.

How about if I list for you all the ways this cast is limiting my work or play or life in general? Would that elicit some sympathy or pity? How about if I tell you how hard it is to simply carry a cup of coffee to a chair? Isn’t coffee necessary for life itself?

Maybe by now you are feeling just a twinge of I’m-glad-that’s-not me limping through life.

If so, that’s my A-ha moment for you. Thank you for making it far enough into my thoughts today to reach the hook.

You see, we are all limping and hobbling along.

Some of us wear a fine facade of success and accomplishments–some of us don’t find it at all easy to hide the hitch in our giddy-up. But all of us in some fashion have lives that are gimpy if not completely crippled.

Maybe it’s our marriage. Maybe it’s our parenting skills. Maybe it’s our job skills. Maybe it’s the relational scars we can’t seem to ever break free of.

But certainly it is our sin. It is all of the lies we have told ourselves and others–and in many respects still telling today. It is the anger and prejudice and lust and envy and hatred we have hid in our hearts and sometimes displayed for the entire world to see.

Forget the orange cast or the blue cast or the walking boot I hope to get in three weeks or so. The fact is, we are all broken. We all need a God inspired crutch or two. We all need to find the doctor who will somehow make us whole.

This coming Sunday, I will be hobbling into a time of fellowship and praise. You may only see the broken exterior. But God knows and I know just how broken I can be (and am). My hobble is a 24 hour a day, seven day a week affair. It began long before this broken ankle. Really, truthfully, certainly, this Sunday will not be any more different than any other Sunday of my life.

And so I come to this special time of family and God. A place where love can be found. A place where I am not judged by my broken bones. A place where healing is offered. A place where hearts are made whole. Unfortunately, the reality is that I come to a place where all are not always made to feel so welcome. But when we recognize that I am not okay and neither are you–when we recognize our brokenness and embrace the brokenness of others, church will become a place of healing and acceptance for all people no matter how they might be broken.

When the cast is long gone from this broken ankle, the hobble and need for healing will remain.

Family makes the difference. Meet God there. Bring another broken soul with you. Help them see the healing and acceptance that can begin in community and service to each other and the world. Help them find the Broken One we call Jesus.

And while you are at it, quit trying to hide your gimpy walk through life. It only makes it harder.

Your broken preacher, brother, and friend–let’s commiserate together!

Les, Jr.

Crutches & An Orange Cast

Yep. That’s me. Hobbling around on two metal sticks and hauling with me this big, ungainly, ugly thing encasing what is commonly known as a foot. And it is bright orange. At least it was in the beginning. Now it is blue. Maybe it will stay that way ’till the blooming thing is taken off for good.

I am not a good patient. I hate not being able to drive for eight crazy weeks. I generally do pretty good in the mornings and I am tired by mid afternoon–or should I say hurting?

Wah, wah, wah. 

Are you beginning to feel sorry for me yet? I didn’t think so.

How about if I list for you all the ways this cast is limiting my work or play or life in general? Would that elicit some sympathy or pity? How about if I tell you how hard it is to simply carry a cup of coffee to a chair? Isn’t coffee necessary for life itself?

Maybe by now you are feeling just a twinge of I’m-glad-that’s-not me limping through life.

If so, that’s my A-ha moment for you. Thank you for making it far enough into my thoughts today to reach the hook.

You see, we are all limping and hobbling along.

Some of us wear a fine facade of success and accomplishments–some of us don’t find it at all easy to hide the hitch in our giddy-up. But all of us in some fashion have lives that are gimpy if not completely crippled.

Maybe it’s our marriage. Maybe it’s our parenting skills. Maybe it’s our job skills. Maybe it’s the relational scars we can’t seem to ever break free of.

But certainly it is our sin. It is all of the lies we have told ourselves and others–and in many respects still telling today. It is the anger and prejudice and lust and envy and hatred we have hid in our hearts and sometimes displayed for the entire world to see.

Forget the orange cast or the blue cast or the walking boot I hope to get in three weeks or so. The fact is, we are all broken. We all need a God inspired crutch or two. We all need to find the doctor who will somehow make us whole.

This coming Sunday, I will be hobbling into a time of fellowship and praise. You may only see the broken exterior. But God knows and I know just how broken I can be (and am). My hobble is a 24 hour a day, seven day a week affair. It began long before this broken ankle. Really, truthfully, certainly, this Sunday will not be any more different than any other Sunday of my life.

And so I come to this special time of family and God. A place where love can be found. A place where I am not judged by my broken bones. A place where healing is offered. A place where hearts are made whole. Unfortunately, the reality is that I come to a place where all are not always made to feel so welcome. But when we recognize that I am not okay and neither are you–when we recognize our brokenness and embrace the brokenness of others, church will become a place of healing and acceptance for all people no matter how they might be broken.

When the cast is long gone from this broken ankle, the hobble and need for healing will remain.

Family makes the difference. Meet God there. Bring another broken soul with you. Help them see the healing and acceptance that can begin in community and service to each other and the world. Help them find the Broken One we call Jesus.

And while you are at it, quit trying to hide your gimpy walk through life. It only makes it harder.

Your broken preacher, brother, and friend–let’s commiserate together!

Les, Jr.

2007: A Threefold Theme of Spiritual, Numerical, and Relational Growth

The following is what I propose to be our major themes in 2007…

Redeemed how I love to proclaim it, redeemed by the blood of the lamb. Redeemed through his infinite mercy; His child and forever I am… 

I love that old song. I need the reminder that I–that we–are the redeemed. A redeemed people-ransomed by God-we have much to be thankful for. And while God didn’t send His Son to bolster our self-image, we can get some great reassurance from the fact that we are the tools God wants to use to help redeem our culture.

That being said, I don’t know whether you would call what follows an article, a challenge, or even some kind of manifesto.

However you might define it or pigeon hole it, I call it vitally important to the life of our church family.

From my perspective as your preaching minister, there are some things we must focus on in order to see and experience spiritual, numerical, and relational growth. More importantly, I am afraid that if we don’t focus on these things, we will lose our relevance and if relevance is gone, corporate and individual spiritual death has already occurred and we just didn’t know it.

I know that I am painting what has to seem like a picture of doom and gloom, but it doesn’t have to be that way at all. If we will but embrace these concepts as things each of us must do, we will see a vitality that ensures that our message and values are relevant to our families and the community at large! We will see and experience the redemption of our time and place!

Each of these three themes is inherently interrelated and must stay in our focus!

Community

In Everybody’s Normal Till You Get To Know Them, John Ortberg makes the case that we are all weird. Each of us has our own strangeness. More specifically, quoting from Isaiah 53:6a which says We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way, Ortberg reminds us that every single one of us is a true representative of flawed humanity-we are the only possible community available. God only has flawed folk to work with. We are it . But then, he also says that…

The yearning to attach and connect, to love and be loved, is the fiercest longing of the soul. Our need for community with people and the God who made us is to the human spirit what food and air and water are to the human body. That need will not go away even in the face of all the weirdness. It marks us from the nursery to the convalescent home. (page 18.)

Community is vital and if we are to be in community together (the church), then it behooves us to be community as God desires it. This means we must work on every relationship among the community of God-in spite of and because of our warts, flaws, and blemishes!

Service

Take a few minutes to read 1 Corinthians 12:1-31…

A very short but thoroughly concise rendering of this pertinent passage might sound like this: As members of Christ’s body, we all need one another; each member must use his or her gifts to serve others. (www.christianserviceministries.org/)

Community service has several connotations. Whether you think of one who performs some needed service as repayment for behavior that is not up to social norms or whether you think of some governmental department that renders essential support in a community, the meaning is ultimately still the same.

A local community of believers has its own particular needs-individually and collectively. The only way those needs will be met is by individual Christians making the attempt to do so.

A community that does not try to met needs-either of their own or others outside the body-is no real community at all.

We build community by serving others! Unfortunately, we have become the kind of people who instead of asking what we can do to serve others, tend to ask "what can the church (elders, preacher, deacon, teachers, etc) do for me?"

I can’t believe I said that, but there it is!

Shepherding

This may sound unusual, I understand. And in no way am I taking away from the work and necessity of an Eldership to work with the flock. Please understand that.

But, when you think about it, shepherding is nothing more than a form of service and a way to build community.

This is what Lynn Anderson says in They Smell Like Sheep…

In the body of Christ, we all play the role of shepherd to someone. You play the role of shepherd as you parent your child in the faith or teach a Sunday school class. You are a shepherd when you disciple a fellow Christian. Older men and women shepherd as they mentor younger men and women; you shepherd as you lead your small group or lead a friend to Christ. The biblical principles of shepherding are remarkably simple, yet powerfully impacting. (Page 4)

Let me reiterate. Our shepherds as an eldership are indispensable and necessary-it is of the utmost importance that they be men with the character and qualities as described in the New Testament-nothing justifies doing anything less. I look forward with great anticipation to the time when our eldership is expanded and fully functional in the role they were designed to fulfill.

But in the meantime and in the aftertime, how and whom are you mentoring, shepherding and helping grow in their walk with God?

Think about these themes. Consider how you might implement them in your life.

Don’t think too long. 2007 is here and it is time to go to work!

LifeGroups–our small group ministry–are perfect vehicles to begin with-are you a part of a small group community that is functional? (Functional: meets at least weekly, sees the group as family and acts accordingly-in other words, doesn’t look for excuses not to meet-instead works to create opportunities, tries to bring new people inside the group, and whose membership opens their homes to the group dynamic.)

Community. Are you building it?

Service. Are you rendering it?

Shepherding. Are you living it?

These things combined with our faith in God and his great grace at work in our lives will make the Orange Grove family alive in Christ!

These are the themes we will keep before us in the year ahead.

Yours for the community of believers,

Les, Jr.

What Sound Does a New Year Begin With?

What sound does a new year begin with?

The voice of a loved one?

The boom of fireworks?

Those are both good choices and ones that would normally be the very answer for me.

However, in the interest of diversity and trying out something new, I have chosen to begin my New Year with an entirely different sound.

Granted, it is not a pleasant sound.

In fact, it may cause one to cringe or flinch.

In my case, this particular sound enabled me to enjoy the privilege of sitting in the waiting area of our local ER for a solid six hours before being seen.

My New Years sound has given me the privilege of seeing an orthopedic surgeon on Wednesday for a more permanent cast that will in all likelihood extend from my foot to above the knee.

Believe me, there is nothing like beginning the new year with the sound of your ankle CRACKING loud and clear.

It may not be the definitive sound of the ages, but I still wouldn’t recommend anyone else trying it.

God Bless and Happy New Year!

Your fractured friend,

Les Ferguson, Jr.