The Bell Rang 5 Times by Lacy Ngo

The Bell Rang 5 Times by Lacy Ngo

On the Children’s Sabbath, we learned that every 5 seconds a child dies of hunger somewhere in the world.  In remembrance of these children, we stood still for 5 seconds while a bell rang 5 times.  Although this was a moment meant to honor and remember these children, those 5 seconds took on another meaning for me.  Standing still, for me, symbolized how I am often just “standing still” doing nothing when so many are in need.  I actually felt a sense of panic during those long 5 seconds.  I began thinking, “A child is dying RIGHT NOW from hunger, and I am just standing here!”  Those 5 seconds helped me feel a personal connection to those children and their struggles. Thank you for a moving moment. 

Why Do I Volunteer at Church? By Lollie Haselden

In January, I was immensely blessed to participate in a Spiritual Gifts workshop.  The take-home messages for me are that everyone has different gifts that can be used in different ways, and we should find joy in serving God, if we are using those gifts.  And y'all...it's true!

 

My dream job is to be a Wal-Mart greeter.  Really and truly, I love to say hello and offer a warm smile to anyone and everyone I meet.  Sometimes, people smile back, and occasionally they even respond with a cheerful "how are you today," but the conversation rarely goes further than that.  This could go on with the same person effortlessly for weeks, months, or even years. 

But, God calls us to more than that.  God calls us to be in RELATIONSHIP with others.  We, as Christians, need the comfort and accountability of community.  But how do we move past a quick greeting to that deeper level of connection with others?

As I reflect on the St. John’s UMC community that I've grown to love and depend on in these past 3 years, I know that those relationships have developed through time spent serving our God.

In Bible study and Sunday school groups, we have had the opportunity to share our stories and prayer needs with one another.  We make ourselves vulnerable by bearing our souls, but a deep bond develops through that exposure. 

There are always laughter, fun, and tears involved with time spent in mission work.  People of all different walks working toward the same goal often find that they have more in common than they realized.

The same children that I got to know as they taught me the verses to "Wheels on The Bus" during VBS also come running to me and other adult volunteers on Sunday mornings with huge smiles and the best hugs.

Committees each have an important purpose, but in order to be effective the members have to get to know each other and the larger community they serve.

And there is so much more—things that I haven’t even gotten to do yet and more people to meet!  Was it easy to show up to a room full of people I may not know?  Or “give up” a Saturday?  Or feel like I was the only one that didn’t have a clue about what to do?  Of course it isn’t easy.  The good news is that God is with us, holding our hand as we step off the cliff into the unknown.  We serve a mighty God, and when we put God first, everything else really does fall into place.

Testify - Part 4 by Jim Holtzclaw

I’ve fought my brother and several cousins.  I’ve taken on mean dogs and ornery cats.  I successfully completed two years of Latin.  I passed college level Calculus, Physics, Chemistry, Applied Differential Equations, AC and DC power courses and Electromagnetic Field theory.  Even with a wife who exudes patience, trying to blend a family is about the hardest fight I ever fought.

Literally by the grace of God, all six of us survived.  We managed to become a family.  A family with screws loose, gears that don’t quite mesh and some junk in the trunk but a family.

And after all that, I can say with certainty that teenagers improve your prayer life.

Testify - Part 3 by Jim Holtzclaw

“I’m tired of being a wife and a mother.”  With those words my first wife drove an impenetrable wedge between us and sounded the death knell of our marriage.  Shortly after, she moved out leaving behind me and her 20-month old twin boys.

This time was my personal valley of the shadow.  It is my own private touchstone for pain.  Moving through the pathways of memory to touch that stone is to recall the feelings of desolation, despair, grief and isolation that my wife’s choices caused me and the twins.

The twins are in their thirties.  To this day they will not discuss their mother.

I do not claim to have been the perfect husband.  It may be seen as unfair to include this section because my ex-wife cannot tell her side of the story.  Long after we were divorced, she entered a nursing home while still in her forties suffering from brain damage due to alcoholism.  She remains there to this day.

My point is not to justify me, but to declare the grace of God in the valley.

As Christ has redeemed my soul, Cindy filled in the holes in my heart.  In retrospect, our courtship must have been both painful and humorous to watch.  Two people, both covered in hellish scars from a previous marriage, stepping ever so cautiously, ever so gingerly toward each other.

We went to marital counseling before we were married.  When the counselor told us that we’d be okay and didn’t need to come back, we were terrified.  Are you sure?  Are you really sure?

He was really sure.  So was I. So was she.

Thanks be to God!

Testify - Part 2 by Jim Holtzclaw

We measure our lives in decades, years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds.  We live our lives through our experiences.  It is the people and the places that  impact us for better or for worse that make us who we are.

It is my contention that every know-it-all teenage boy should work at Shriner’s Hospital.  That was my summer job in high school and college.  I proudly claim to have washed more diapers than most mothers.  Of course, I was washing hundreds at a time in industrial size washers (without spin cycles - there was another machine for that) and dryers.  Whether that claim is true or not, I really have no idea.

The work that I did from cleaning grills to mopping floors did not impact me in any significant way.  It was the people who did that.

While helping in the Orthotics Department where the braces are made, I met for a very brief time a young girl.  She had an inoperable brain tumor and was, by this time, blind.  She wanted to see - by feel - the face of each of the people trying to help.  To this day, whenever I think of her, I can feel her fingers flitting like butterflies on my face.

This place became such a part of me that I can remember sitting in my girlfriend’s house watching her niece and nephew tear about the house.  For some time, I kept thinking “What’s wrong with these kids?”  Until it dawned on me that they were perfectly normal.  It was my world where bones were crooked and weak, where limbs were missing or malformed, where spinning a wheelchair in impossible arcs was not.  It was extraordinary.

It is also where I learned that I was a wimp.  Physical therapy was essential if any of these children were to walk.  When the Therapist walked on the floor, the crying started because pain, however important and essential the therapy, was coming with her.  I would leave the floor before she got there.  I’m not tough enough to do that.

From children devastated by a genetic quirk to a child run over by a lawn mower, each smiling (somehow laughing) face hammered my soul.  Why, O Lord, must the innocent suffer?

Through high school and college I struggled with that question.  I was ready to declare myself an agnostic and give up trying to understand.  And then, while bumbling my way through scripture, I came upon John 21:20 - 23.  Peter is apparently jealous of the possibility that John would live until Christ’s return.  Jesus tells him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?  Follow me!”

It was as if Christ were saying to me, “Boy, do your job.  I’ll take care of the rest.”  It may not be profound and would certainly not satisfy many, yet for me it settled the question.

Do my job.