Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
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Garages are like dogs. All dogs are descended, canine genetic researchers tell us, from wolves. (A canine genetic researcher is not, I should mention, a dog who does genetic research. “Genetic canine researcher” is nonsensical. “Researchers who study canine genetics.” There ya go.) No, your garage has nothing to do with wolves. Be patient. Chihuahuas are dogs. Weimaraners are dogs. Pomeranians are dogs. My garage is a garage. My friend’s garage, down the street, is a garage....
Change. What we need is change! That word and sentiment, or a jillion variations of them, work well as political campaign slogans. Toss the rather plastic word out there, and most folks immediately think of some fairly solid and even specific improvements in their circumstances, though slick politicians usually get away with mouthing “change” in vaporous terms. Of course, there’s always an exception. Something really specific. Chickens. I found myself thinking of the old p...
I bowed to peer pressure recently. Ironically, the pressure came from the very offspring I’d always sternly counseled to avoid peer pressure. Yes, and I’d also taught them to resist blaming other people for their own actions. None of this, “He made me mad, so I decked him.” Nope. You let the kid punch your buttons and you — yes, son, you! — chose to deck him. You made the choice. Now, own it, and deal with the consequences. Whether or not you’re taking the jerk down a notch...
If Jesus had done no other miracle (and he did many), I wonder if getting the 12 guys we now call apostles to spend time in the same room and not kill each other might not be a pretty impressive feat. OK, let’s go ahead and take Judas out of the mix. But still ... Maybe it’s not terribly surprising that the fishermen would get along. Two pairs of them were brothers, of course. Generally, that helps. Except when it really, really doesn’t. I think it did. (And, by the way,...
Who put Jesus on the cross? That’s a question one of my favorite Bible professors liked to ask when he wanted to make his students’ brains bleed. And it’s a question with a hook in it. So, what do you think? If you answered, the religious authorities who were in power, you’d be right. The most overtly religious folks of Jesus’ day. Folks who fancied themselves the most “spiritual” of all people killed the Son of God. Now, by the way, if you think I’m leaning toward any kind of...
Sad and glad. At this moment, I am both. Last week I completed the editing and page creation for the final issue of The Christian Appeal devotion magazine. I’ve served as the managing editor for the little monthly magazine for almost 40 years. A very little math is the only kind of math I ever do, but I’m pretty sure that, when I sent the files to the printer for the June issue, it was Issue #472 for me. That’s quite a run, though it’s less than the 60 years this issue m...
No doubt, among the most influential Christian leaders who ever lived was the amazing John Wesley who, along with his brother, Charles, founded the Methodist movement within the Church of England. And John Wesley writes simply, “I learned more about Christianity from my mother than from all the theologians in England.” If you read even a little about Susanna Wesley, you’ll get a picture of an incredible lady of faith. The quality of Susanna’s and John’s relationship is portra...
My laptop computer went mute recently. I can’t tell you exactly when, but I’m sure it lost its voice several days before I noticed it had lost its voice. Its speakers, I knew — or thought I knew — were fine; they just were not speaking. As emergencies go, it was way down the list from a house fire and just maybe a bit above being subjected to another smarmy ad on TV by a politician going low to assure you that he is not a low-life politician or, at least, not as slimy as his d...
G. K. Chesterton wrote that there are no uninteresting things – “only uninterested people.” And he’s right, you know. I just returned from a few days with my three brothers at Robert Lee, Texas. For almost 40 years, two times a year, we’ve met at our maternal grandparents’ old place there. For more than a few of those years, our dad was with us. Precious time. A precious place. Granddaddy Key had that little house built in 1928, so it’s sneaking up on 100 years old. We’ve pi...
If I were asked to give the title of my favorite song, I don’t know what I would say. I like too many. If I were asked, by someone trying to make the task easier, to list 10 of my favorite songs, I don’t think I could do that, either. Same problem. Too many. I like so many songs. Different styles, genres, eras. A song doesn’t have to be perfect for me to like it. Hey, I was in high school in the 1970s. Lots happened in that era that no one should be proud of, but some of th...
I was sleeping soundly on a nice Saturday morning. It was, to be exact, what many Christians have called for long ages “Holy Saturday,” the Saturday before Easter. It had been for us a very nice Holy Week indeed. In our little community, for much longer than the 38 years my family and I have been here, we’ve had a nice tradition sponsored by our Ministerial Alliance. A Palm Sunday Community Service, hosted at one of our churches, gets us off to a great start. Then, begun...
“Christendom has had a series of revolutions,” writes G. K. Chesterton, “and in each one of them Christianity has died. Christianity has died many times and risen again; for it had a God who knew the way out of the grave.” Oh, yes, and a God who “so loved the world” that he truly did “give his only Son” both to pardon and to empower. The pardon had to be real. The power had to be real. Why? Because humanity’s problem was real. Put simply, our problem is that none of us measur...
No doubt about it, I have a heart for small churches. And that means, most churches. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful for churches of all sizes who preach the good news about Christ. And all churches, whatever their size, have their share of challenges. According to Aaron Earl’s article in Lifeway Research, based on a 2020 “Faith Communities Today” (FACT) study surveying 15,000 “faith communities,” 70% of the churches surveyed had less than 100 members and averaged 65 i...
“This is the day that the Lord has made / We will rejoice and be glad in it.” If you find your brain putting the tune to those lyrics in your head, you probably learned it in Sunday School or Vacation Bible School. It’s a nice song, with a great message, though it is most certainly a potential “ear worm.” As “ear worms” go (songs that get stuck in your head), it beats the daylights out of “Achy Breaky Heart” and such mind-numbing atrocities. But I confess to a bit of a strain...
It’s a sure sign that you’re beginning to learn at least a little about something when you begin to realize how very little you really know about it at all. And it’s an equally sure sign of how little you know if you allow yourself to suspect that you’re the smartest person in any room. Other folks with more sense (it would seem that anybody would have more sense) will leave the room as quickly as possible, whether the room is a coffee shop or the Oval Office. Corolla...
I don’t know why, but I found myself recently looking at some Google Maps views of an old house. How, I wondered, could it be that old? It was the house that was “my” house, my home, from the moment Mom and Dad brought me home from Amarillo’s original Northwest Texas Hospital. It remained my house for all of my school years. I knew every nick in those wooden floors (Mom would pour wax on the floor and send us off with old towels; we’d spin around on hands and knees as human bu...
Disgusting, this day. At least, a chunk of it. Almost, I might even say, one of those “no good, very bad” days you’ve heard about. Oh, but it could always be worse, someone says, rather unhelpfully. Well, of all people, Christians have the very best reasons to be optimistic and positive. But I hereby confess that I have some days when, to the cheery person assuring me that “it could be worse,” my reply might be, “I believe you. I don’t doubt that it could be worse. And I...
I like steeples. I’ve always liked them. The church I grew up attending was an A-frame structure with a fellowship hall attached, and it looked like a church. But a steeple would have improved the building. I like them. And that is one reason I was particularly hurt when our church’s steeple recently decided to consider leaving the church behind, presumably to seek spiritual care and ecclesiastical mooring elsewhere. OK, I will admit that steeples don’t have spirits, but t...
I was sick and missed school for a day or two in second grade when the teacher taught about Roman numerals. I’ve done my makeup work since then, but I’m still a bit weak on the subject, which means that I am sometimes a bit slow in finding the right chapter in excellent old Bible commentaries and in Super Bowls. Super Bowl LVII (that would be 57) was played Sunday, but I mistakenly called it Super Bowl 52 (that would be LII) a couple of times before the game started. By the...
Perspective. It matters. You’ve heard the “ham and egg breakfast” wisdom? The chicken is involved, but the pig is committed. (Of course, these days, anyone who needs eggs is pretty committed, too.) Point of view. How we see. What we see. How we evaluate what we see. I was out in the backyard one recent evening trying to catch a glimpse of the International Space Station zooming by. And I wasn’t just looking up and hoping for luck. A couple of years ago when my brother told me...
When I start writing about the weather, my readers might logically suppose that I’m feeling uninspired, dull and unimaginative, and short of things to write about. They would be right. My apologies. Strange. I just looked back at a few old columns (I’ve got well over a thousand of them), and I see that on several occasions, about this time of year, I’ve written about the weather. So maybe I’m on track. And so is the year. Right on track. Christmas is over. That’s depressin...
I may need to apologize to a penguin. Are you aware that Jan. 20 was Penguin Awareness Day? I wasn’t, either, until I ran across a “news” blurb flashing across one of my screens late that day, and by then it was too late to do anything very practical about it. (And I just assumed that most likely the event was designed to help people to be more aware of penguins and not for penguins to be more aware of their surroundings lest they step into traffic or something.) Greet...
Forty-seven years. That’s how long my wife and I have been married. It probably seems longer to her. I’m counting pretty heavily on the fact that breaking in a new husband would likely be for her, at this point, more trouble than it’s worth. These days, the statistics for folks who get married as young as we did are pretty grim. And I will admit, if one of my grandkids expressed a desire to get married at age 18, I’d likely need some sort of sedation. But for those who marry y...
A new year. In the dance of the universe, the annual calendar flip always seems to me to be mostly a non-event, plastic hype, modern media “news alert” news. I never notice much difference between 11:59 p.m. on Dec. 31 and 12:01 a.m. on Jan. 1. And yet ... I’ll admit that the dawning of a new year might not be a bad time to check our smoke alarms and our priorities. Regarding the latter, the sharp-pointed question is actually this: For what price are we selling the momen...
Well, here we find ourselves again in January, and maybe some reflection is in order. On the one hand, author Thomas Mann is right: “Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.” So a new year? January? Big deal. On the other hand, I’m always a little surprised when 12:01 a.m. of the new ye...
