12-20-10 The Tablecloth

   

  If you missed my guest appearance on Dec. 24th on the TCT TV broadcast  ‘I’m Just Sayin,’  You can watch a video podcast of the show by Clicking on”  http://podcasts.tct.tv/ijs.xml  These video podcasts are free to view and are archived for approximately two weeks after the initial live broadcast.  Note: The Dec 24th broadcast with me as a guest was a new broadcast, not a re-run of the 1/2  broadcast.

Merry Christmas, 2010 . . . from my heart to yours!

     Hands down, December is my favorite month of the year and Christmas is my favorite celebration of the year!   I do have some other favorites that would be included in "A Few of My Favorite Things” list however,  I'm sending one of my all-time favorite inspirations.  I’ve shared this before and if you've already been blessed by it, wonderful!   Do yourself a favor and re-read it!  If this is the first time you've received it, enjoy!!! 

     I've come to realize that in God's economy, there is no loss . . . and no mistakes!   I wonder how God is working in your life to bring a puzzle together to bring glory to him.  When God moves on your spirit to do a certain something that goes outside your normal routine or comfort zone . . . don't question God . . . just do it!!!!   and then know that God is at work in not only your life . . . but in all of the lives that you may come in contact with and all, of whom, become a part of a bigger picture puzzle that God wants to complete.

Lanny Wolfe

P.S.  If I had sent this anytime before Christmas you would have been so busy with last minute details in your schedule and obligations, that neither your  head nor your  heart would  be fair to this true story.  Now that hopefully all of the preparations for the special day are behind you, take a well-deserved “break” and read this favorite inspiration of mine right now and then allow me to comment at the end!

                                                       THE TABLECLOTH!

        The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc., and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.

    The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.  By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it.

     The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week.

     She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again... The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home; that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

     What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike. He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison.

He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between. The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

True Story - by Pastor Rob Reid

     I can never read this story without my heart swelling up and my eyes tearing up . . . and I’ve read it so many times because each time I read it anew I am overwhelmed at the God we love and serve and how much he cares for ALL the details of our lives.  So many times we get so caught up in trying to make sense out of our details and disasters  that we impulsively think that God may be somewhere else at the moment or that HE has so many more important things to worry about.  STOP RIGHT HERE!!  . . .

     YOU and every detail of your life in every single moment are the most important thing to God!  Yes, I know we can’t get a handle on this . . . but, that’s why He’s God  . . . and we’re not.  His ways are far above our  ways.  I know you’re busy but let me submit for your consideration what I call my “What If” list!

What if--

… it hadn’t stormed in New York on December 19^th of this particular year?

…the damaged part of the church had not been in the sanctuary, but in a

     Sunday School room?

... the local flea market was not having a sale to catch the pastor’s attention?

... the pastor had not stopped at this particular flea market?

…the pastor had not seen or bought this particular tablecloth?

…the tablecloth had not been big enough to utilize to cover the hole in the   

    wall?

…it had not snowed on December the 21^st?

…the older woman had not ended up living in New York city?

…the older woman would have had her cleaning job on a different day when it

       wouldn’t have snowed, or when she might not have missed her bus or  

       would have crossed paths with this  pastor?

…the older woman had  NOT MISSED  HER  BUS?

…the older woman’s bus stop had been at the next block instead of this one?

…the pastor had not crossed paths with the older woman?

…the pastor had not invited the woman to sit in the warmth of the church to

       wait for the next bus that would come 45 minutes later?

…the woman would have taken the tablecloth that the pastor had offered to

       give her on December 21^st?

…the older man wouldn’t have attended the Christmas eve service,   Dec 24^th

       at this particular church out of all of the churches he could have chosen?

…all of the above were in place and had happened except for one detail—

  

What if --

     the husband had somehow ended up living in any place than the neighbor-   

     hood in  which THIS  particular church was located.  All of the other pieces

    of the  puzzle would have been for naught!

Yes, my mind asked all of these “What if’ questions” . . . and then my spirit  reminds  me that  . . . with God there are No “What if’s!” and  NO coincidences!

I wonder what puzzle God may be putting pieces together on your behalf today.--a puzzle to which you may be completely oblivious to today . . . but someday! . . you will see the puzzle put together.   If not here . . . then  There!

MP3 file attached: Romans 8:28 (Words and Music by Lanny Wolfe, Lanny Wolfe Music Co., ASCAP) Artists “The Lanny Wolfe Singers” Soloist: Vonnie Ewing Lopez

It’s not a Christmas song but you might need to be reminded that “all things work together for your good . . . all year long.” 

Merry Christmas, 2010

Lanny Wolfe

P.S. Sometimes it’s okay to miss the boat . . . or the bus!

09-27-10 Inspiration Of The Week-WINNING IS NOT THE ONLY THING! The Sara Tucholsky story!

Pat Boone, Dove award presenter and . . . the winner! 

     I remember entering a Halloween window painting contest that, as a kid, I was a part of . . . and won!  However old I was at the time, winning felt good! I don't have any little-league baseball or football victories to tack on my "awards" wall.  I grew up with the awareness that I had flat feet.  Going to the shoe store, as a kid and getting Buster Brown shoes with "cookies" became a part of my routine.  Cookies? In case you didn't know . . . soft padding put in my shoe where the arch should have been.  Having flat feet got me out of phys education classes, which, at the time I thought was a plus; in retrospect, I wished that I could have put up with whatever inconvenience "flat feet" brought to the table.  It wasn't until I was twenty-six and had to take a physical for the army that I felt that,  for my personal situation, my flat-foot condition won me a classification that enabled me to miss being shipped out to the Vietnam war.

     In my heart of hearts I would have liked to have been voted in as a class officer!  (Sorry, Steve Bennett).  No! Sorry, Lanny! I never even got nominated!! It was just a dream that, of course, was only mine . . . and none of my classmates!  I finally got over it . . . eventually!

     Fast forward to Ohio State University, I finally won: Treasurer for Pi Omega Pi--a business education fraternity organization.  I know what you're thinkging . . . How boring!  Yeah, I agree . . . but I did get voted in, nonetheless! 

     When I became a songwriter, I had been nominated six times for "Songwriter of the Year!"  . . . and lost six times!  Finally, on the seventh nomination in 1984, God smiled on me and after the votes came in, I won a dove award for Song Writer of the Year and a dove for "Song of the Year" (More Than Wonderful) .  SESAC honored me as Songwriter of the year for two years in a row.  So, I know what its like to both lose . . . and win!  Say what you will, losing sucks!  Some people never rebound from the disappointment of a losing experience.  Winning is best described by "Everyone loves a winner!" You feel like you own the world . . . for a fleeting moment!  I've learned that all winning is relative and must be kept in perspective; many times winners either can't handle all of the "pluses" that come with the win or get side-tracked by the same "pluses."

  

Enough of "my" take on winning and losing . . . what Vince Lombardi had to say about winning! . . .

     Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing is a well-known quote in sports. Its assertion about the importance of winning has been touted as a basic tenet of the American sports creed and, at the same time, identified as encapsulating what is purportedly wrong with competitive sports.

     The quote is widely attributed to American football coach Vince Lombardi;  who probably heard the phrase from UCLA coach Henry Russell Sanders.  Lombardi is on record using the quote as early as 1959 in his opening talk on the first day of the Packers’ training camp.  The quote captured the American public's attention during Lombardi's highly successful reign as coach of the Packers in the 1960s. Over time, the quote took on a life of its own. The words graced the walls of locker rooms, ignited pre-game pep talks, and echoed from the rafters of banquet halls. According to a Sports in America journalist, Lombardi claimed to have been misquoted. What he intended to say was "Winning isn't everything. The will to win is the only thing." However, Lombardi is on record repeating the original version of the quote on several occasions.

The Sara Tucholsky story!  It was her first . . . and last homerun!

     Western Oregon University's Sara Tucholsky had no idea that the first - and, as it turns out, only - homerun of her career would cause ripples that would make her last swing of the bat as a college softball player a national media sensation.

     With two runners on and her team down a run to Central Washington University, Sara hit a homerun to centerfield.  As she rounded first base, she missed the bag. When she turned to tag the base, she injured her knee. Able only to crawl back to the base, Sara was told that she would be called out if her teammates came to her aid. If a pinch runner checked into the game, her homerun would count only as a single.

     Players and fans alike were stunned when Central Washington first baseman Mallory Holtman, the conference's all-time homerun leader, asked the umpire if there was any rule against opponents helping an injured player around the bases.

     She was told that there was not.  Together, Holtman and shortstop Liz Wallace picked up Tucholsky and carried her around the bases, stopping at each bag to allow Sara to touch it with her good leg.  "It was the right thing to do," Holtman said in an interview on national television, after the respectful act of sportsmanship had been witnessed by millions on ESPN and had become a YouTube sensation.

     The three runs sent Western Oregon to a 4-2 victory, ending Central Washington's chances of winning the conference and advancing to the playoffs.

     "It's a great story," Western Oregon coach Pam Knox said, "something I'll never forget - the game's about character and integrity and sportsmanship, and it's not always about winning and losing."

Excerpt from Finish Strong: Teen Athlete...Developing the Champion Within, by Dan Green
Click on:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVlKtI7yd_s

        And, speaking of Winning . . . One Of the heroes in my life has won his race here . . . and has gone home this past week.  J.Hugh Rose, the voice of Harvestime; personality-plus who could make any person feel like a million dollars and that you were his friend; the "Pentecostal Pavorati" whose voice could fill any venue without the help of a microphone; the choir director of Calvary Tabernacle and General Conferences who could bring voices together . . . and Heaven down; the minister/minstrel who could transport my spirit to the "New Jerusalem," and the "one of a kind" who made me, as a teenager say, "That's what I want to do; that's who I want to be like.   No one can ever fill his shoes or his place in the hearts of those who knew him and loved him. To the "one and only"--you'll be missed here, but someday we'll hear that voice again . . . booming over top of the angelic chorus there!  Joshua fought the battle of Jericho . . . but Bro. Rose, my hero, my friend, fought a valiant battle in Harrison Hills! In his recent years, his steps may have gotten feeble, but his voice . . . as big as ever!!

mp3 file: "The Race" Words and Music by Lanny Wolfe, ASCAP, (#30302), 1975, The Lanny Wolfe Trio, "Come On, Let's Praise Him."

08-09-10 Inspiration Of The Week - WHAT DO YOU SEE?

     I am so sorry that we, as Americans, do not revere or respect age the way it seemingly is respected in so many other countries around the world. In many Eastern societies, age brings with it honor, love, and respect so much that very often the elders of the family not only live in the same household as the children but are treated as the focal point of authority for everyone in the household and given the utmost respect, honor, and care. Living in a multi-cultural city such as Houston, I have seen this with my own eyes. On the other hand, so many Americans would never consider bringing their parent(s) into their home and disrupting their style . . . their schedules and routine. . . their way of LIFE!

      And so, assisted living housing and nursing homes become the prisons for the American elderly. I wish I could stop there, but, I can't. As if this isn't concerning enough, the number of residents in these "transition" structures who get seldom get visited by their children, grandchildren, and other relatives is deplorable. It's as it their children have to squeeze into their crowded schedules and life style "token" visits. The subscript to this picture could read, "I love you, but you're not an active part of my present routine . . . and, because you are my parent, I will stop by occasionally (and at the most convenient times for me) to see if you're doing okay. Because I lived in Houston and my mother, in Columbus, Ohio, I was not able to physically visit with her as much as I would have liked to; my sister who does live in Columbus did visit mom everyday! (Now you get a slightly better idea of why I dearly love my sister)

      I remember the special times when I would be driving in my car in Houston and would call my mother to see how she was doing. There were the times when she, in her feeble voice, would say, "Lanny, I'm not doing very good today." Somewhere in the conversation I would always work my way around to, "Mom, let's sing!" which often was followed by, "But, I don't feel like it today" which would always be followed with, "That's okay, Mom. I'll sing for me and you and you just listen." I would hear a small voice answer "Okay! It never failed! Amazing Grace would start out as a "Lanny solo" but by the time I would get to "that saved a wretch like me" it turned into a "long-distance-phone" duet with my mother singing the alto part as if she were singing in front of several thousand people at Carnegie Hall in New York.

     When I would visit, I would always make arrangments with the nursing home to allow all who would want to join us meet in the fellowship hall. I would stand at the piano and have the assistants place my mother in the chair of honor right next to the piano.

     I would sing hymns and songs that I knew would brighten up my mother's day . . . and they always did! I would hardly get the first few words of a hymn out of my mouth and my dear mother, Precious, would start singing along with that strong alto voice . . . just as if she were singing with her guitar at a revival meeting like she did when she was a teenager. Some of the other folks would sing along, some would just smile; some were just happy to be out of their room, while others would pat along and I could see their eyes dancing even though their feet were like concrete blocks anchored to wheelchair platforms.

      With each visit, in spite of all the efforts of the nursing home to do all of the things they were supposed to do, I could always sense loneliness and rejection throughout the facility. As I would walk the halls and peer into rooms with so many almost-empty shells occupying beds, my heart would break thinking that so many of these, as well as thousands of other elderly folks in facilities like my mother's, were both forgotten, neglected, or degraded to such little or practically no value. And so, when I ran across the following story, I was so vividly reminded that beyond the wrinkled faces, and the arthritic bodies that can hardly walk, in many cases, there is a REAL person who has feelings, likes, dislikes, hurts, joys, and the gammet of emotions that a child or a teenager would have, but housed in a deteriorating body whose mind won't cooperate or a mind whose body won't cooperate. To many a pet cat or dog is the closest they will get to feeling love.

     Today, if you have a parent who is still with you, love them . . . show them you love them . . . take care of them like you really love them. It may not make sense for you to take care of them in your home, but, if they are in a nursing home, remind yourself daily that you will want to love the only parent you have in every way possible to the best of your ability. You will not want to join the thousands who put flowers on the grave of their loved-one with the regretful sentence . . . "I wish I had spent more time with my mom/dad while they were with me. Listen to the heartbeat of this "crabby old man" and see if it makes you "see" him . . . and them . . . differently.

Lanny Wolfe

Crabby Old Man!

     When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

     Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

     And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging its way across the world via internet.

What do you see nurses? . . . . . What do you see?
What are you thinking  when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . . . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . . . . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . . . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . . . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am. . . . . . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten .. . . . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . . . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons . . . . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . . and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man . . . . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. . . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . . . a young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . life over again.

I think of the years, all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . open and see.
Not a crabby old man . . . Look closer . . . see ME!!

MP3 file: "Let Me Remember" Words and Music, Dan Dean, recorded on the project Marietta "I Love To Praise Him," Paradigm Music Productions, Inc. #41502 http://paradigmmusic.net/store/index.php?cPath=37_176

In case you need a light moment . . . "An Unusually Fancy Phone"


     The Chief Rabbi of Israel and the Pope are in a meeting in Rome. The Rabbi notices an unusually fancy phone on a side table in the Pope's private chambers. "What is that phone for?" he asks the pontiff. "It's my direct line to the Lord." The Rabbi is skeptical, and the Pope notices. The Holy Father insists the Rabbi try it out, and, indeed, he is connected to the Lord. The Rabbi holds a lengthy discussion with Him.

     After hanging up the Rabbi says, "Thank you very much. This is great! But listen, I want to pay for my phone charges." The Pope, of course, refuses, but the Rabbi is steadfast and finally, the pontiff gives in. He checks the counter on the phone and says, "All right! The charges were 100,000 Lira" ($56). The Chief Rabbi gladly hands over the payment.

     A few months later, the Pope is in Jerusalem on an official visit. In the Chief Rabbi's chambers, he sees a phone identical to his and learns it also is a direct line to the Lord. The Pope remembers he has an urgent matter that requires divine consultation and asks if he can use the Rabbi's phone. The Rabbi gladly agrees, hands him the phone, and the `Pope chats away. After hanging up, the Pope offers to pay for the phone charges. Of course, the Chief Rabbi refuses to accept payment.  After the Pope insists, the Rabbi relents and looks on the phone counter. 1 Shekel 50" ($0.42).  The Pope looks surprised, "Why so cheap?" 

     The Rabbi smiles, "Local call."