LEAVING AND STAYING

It is March, 2024, and I have summoned the courage sufficient to tiptoe back into my prior “life”.

Many of you know that my mom navigated the anguish of mixed dementia: a ravaging thief of the worst kind. In 2018, we noticed that she began to repeat herself. We went through a year or more in denial, embracing good days and rationalizing bad ones. Her decline continued into 2019 when her condition could no longer be denied.

In the first half of 2022, our 89-year-old dad confessed that she needed more care than he could provide. We checked her in to the memory unit of a wonderful nursing home in the county where they live. (I am not yet able to revisit that set of days – not yet.)

For sixteen months, we witnessed her decline. She lost her ability to process, converse,
understand, walk, stand, and eat. What she did not lose was her compassion, authentic sweetness, and selfless thoughtfulness.

She met Jesus on my birthday, October 18, and I felt so honored. John and I stayed with her the three nights before she passed, not wanting her to be alone. Those last three days and nights, the staff of the nursing home shared story after story of how much she was loved. Nurses left home and came to see her “one more time”. They talked about the ‘Bible studies’ and the ‘yard sales’ she hosted and frequented.

When Thanksgiving came the following month, I thanked the Lord for the empty chair at the table. She was well and whole. She was reunited with the baby girl she lost to pneumonia, her mother whom she lost way too soon, her sisters and brother, to name a few.

I have dreamed of her twice. The first time was very vivid. I was at a Gaither Homecoming
concert and saw her walk by. I ran to her and asked where she was going? She just smiled and said she couldn’t stay.

We are adjusting to a new normal, but our hearts are always turned toward where she is. We long for one more conversation, one more shared meal, one more opportunity to hear her laugh and see her smile.

One day we will gaze on our surroundings and we will know what she knew…. that living here is fine, but we really can’t stay.

We are in the process of moving the blog to: https://janetpaschal.wordpress.com/ please make of note of this new URL address. Thank you

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MAYBE TODAY….

It was the week before Christmas 2022. On a whim, I decided to visit a nearby city for some last minute shopping. For years, this mall has struggled, as highly visible national chains arrived, bringing their own retail footprints. In the structure that once defined this city, only one anchor store and a few locally owned shops remained.

At the foot of the curving staircase that joined two floors, a large fenced area held their Christmas display. It was just as I remembered: large and colorful with happy elves, winter snow scenes and an oversized chair for Santa.

Now, five days before Christmas, the chairs were empty. The lights were visible but not turned on. There were no long, eager lines. Santa was a no-show.

As I made my way around the display there was a lone boy at the fence. He was five, his grandmother said. She stood patiently waiting as he knelt on the floor, hands on the fence, staring through the rails at the colors, the toys. He only barely moved, so focused was he on the details of the display.

It was heartbreaking to see. I wondered what was going through his mind. Did he imagine that the lights were shining and the music blaring, or was he simply reconciling the fact that what he hoped for would not happen today?

It would have been understandable to express your disappointment and move on. I admired him for staying, waiting, wondering, hoping.

This year was my 66th Christmas. As a child, I heard my grandfather preach about Jesus’ birth and His imminent return. Archaeologists have made supporting discoveries about Jesus’ birth in the last 66 years. These amazing facts reinforce what we believe. They do not make us believe; they simply add layers to the story.

All through childhood we heard our grandfather speak of Jesus’ return to earth. Often I would stare at the sky, expecting to see Him appear at any moment.

Like the five-year-old in the mall, you and I are waiting. We are eager. We anticipate joy that is unmatched, unspeakable.

We are not able to enter just yet. The time is not now, perhaps not today. But we stop and we stare. We watch and we study. We kneel and we listen, knowing that, one day, we will realize what our hearts could not even imagine.

One day. Maybe this year. Maybe today.

In anticipation,

Janet

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Wisdom and Understanding

Hi Everyone,

We’ve moved! We simply decided that our online presence needed an overall update, and John began with a new look and location for the blog. (He knows this remains the most efficient (and fun!) way for us to communicate.) Two-way conversations are much more fun than monologues.  

There are many nuts and bolts involved in an online presence, so thank you in advance for your patience as we relocate and update what you will see and hear.

One more thing…. If you do not already follow the blog, you may simply click on the ‘Follow’ icon (lower right corner) and enter your email address for notifications of new posts.

New blog address: https://janetpaschal.wordpress.com/

When I haven’t seen or spoken with Gloria Gaither in a while, she always asks the same question: “What are you reading?” That could (and often does) lead to a long discussion on topics ranging from prophecy to basketball. Just because it seems like the right thing to do, I will tell you that, right now, I am rereading Lee Strobel’s The Case for Faith. (The introduction alone is worth the price of the book.) That, along with Proverbs and Psalms, is driving home the idea of pursuing wisdom and understanding. Our family has needed both of them in large doses for a while now. They have become a lifeline as we navigate uncharted and unfamiliar waters. 

I tell my close friends that I am still awaiting the dispensation of wisdom, but the last three years are teaching me understanding. Nowadays, I often cringe thinking back on my quick opinions and instant remedies when I knew so little about what others could have been going through. I was often the priest or the Levite when someone in my life needed a Samaritan. Hopefully we can all learn from each other and grasp both wisdom and understanding as we press in to together to wherever He leads. I’m excited about the prospect!

So here we are… December 7, 2022…. 

Eighty-one years ago, at 7:55am, the US Naval Base at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, suffered an unprovoked attack. Four heavy carriers launched 353 aircraft torpedoes and bombers in addition to submarines and destroyers. One hour and fifteen minutes later, 2,403 American families began a dark journey through grief and loss. 

Prior to the attack, Japanese Admiral Yamamoto famously stated, “I look forward to dictating peace to the US in the White House at Washington.”

It is difficult to imagine how many prayers rose to God eighty-one years ago. Prayers for safety, protection, healing, comfort, resolution, etc. And He heard them all. 

Bad things happen in a broken world. Power corrupts and greed distracts. We tend to forget Catherine Marshall’s great observation of the autonomous structure and creation of God: “(a) power that no one really understands keeps our heart beating, our lungs breathing, … our body temperature at 98.6 degrees…. a surgeon can cut tissues but he is helpless to bind the severed tissues back again. We grow old relentlessly and automatically. 

Even the planet we live on… we had nothing to do with it’s creation either…. All of this happens quite apart from man – little man who struts and fumes upon the earth.”

Humans seek bigger, better, higher, bolder, shinier… and God waits patiently for them to grasp their own frailty and to learn that the brief span of a lifetime can hardly be compared to God’s tomorrow. 

“Lord, on the anniversary of an event carried out totally devoid of wisdom and understanding, help us to move closer to both of them today.”

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HAPPY FATHER’S DAY 2022

Hey Everybody!

I hope you are enjoying the freedom, activities, and (ferocious) heat of summer. While I am not schooled on global warming, I am convinced that ‘summer warming’ thrives in North Carolina.

My nephew wrote our church’s weekly newsletter this week. I enjoyed it and thought you might, too. I wish you all a wonderful Sunday with the people you most love.

Blessings to you, Janet

Father’s Day 2022

As a boy, I loved to draw. I drew animals, dinosaurs, trains, superheroes – if it was a part of my life, I put it on paper. Of course, the problem with my drawings was that they weren’t very good. They were merely crude circles put together, given a face, and haphazardly colored. When I finished one of these masterpieces I would hurry to show my mom. Her response was always the same, ‘Wow!’, ‘That’s amazing!’, and ‘Did you draw that?’. On the other hand, my dad usually replied, ‘Oh, that’s nice, son’, or ‘That’s pretty good.’  His remarks were invariably less enthusiastic than my mom’s and sometimes, in my child’s mind, I would think that my father indifferent to my artistic endeavors.

One day, out of the blue, my dad took one of my Dinosaur books and began drawing a grid over the top of the T-Rex. He drew the same grid on a piece of blank paper and said, “Draw only what you see in each box.” So I did. To my astonishment, I had drawn a picture that looked just like it was supposed to! It was the first time I remember feeling like a true artist. My drawing continued to improve until, in high school, I won two Gold Keys and my work was displayed on a museum wall.  

And it all started when my dad drew a grid.

Sometimes it seems that God is indifferent to our prayers. I’m sure it felt that way for men like Joseph, David, and Elijah. But the grid of time always proves God’s faithfulness and we realize that, in His great love, God has laid a path, a grid, over each of our lives to guide us toward Him, one box at a time.

It must have seemed strange to the disciples when they asked Jesus how they should pray? He did not begin with pompous words, “Oh, great and terrible God of Israel,” but, rather, “Our Father.”

The God we serve wears many hats: Creator, Judge, Executioner, Redeemer, King, Lord. But first and foremost, He is a Father.

June 16, 2022 / Rev. Benjamin Loftis

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The Light Of The World

“Then spake Jesus again unto them, saying, I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life” John 8:12

Over the years, pastors and evangelists have shared with congregations the ancient legend of the light of God shining in the hearts of man. Here’s the Reader’s Digest version: Upon Jesus’ ascension, He was met by Gabriel at the gates of heaven and their proposed dialogue was something along these lines:

Gabriel: “Oh, Master, how wonderful, how glorious that You have returned. We do wonder, however, how many people down there know how much you love them and that You died for them?
Jesus: “Gabriel, just a little handful; eleven men in a company of a hundred and twenty in the city of Jerusalem.”
Gabriel: “Master, how will the rest of the world know that You died for them?”
Jesus: “I have asked Peter, James, John, and a few more friends to tell others about me. Those who are told will tell others, in turn. Eventually, my story will be spread to the farthest reaches of the globe and all of humankind will have heard of me.”
Gabriel: “Yes, but what if Peter and James and John grow weary? What if the people who come after them forget? What is your alternate plan?”
Jesus: “There is no alternate plan.”

It is obvious that this story is told to admonish believers to share their faith with boldness and frequency. It has probably galvanized young people to consider missionary service, or other lifetime commissions. The legend is obviously not true, but we are clear about it’s purpose: to remind us that we, you and I, are still the light of the world.

Early in the book of Matthew, Jesus has just been tempted by the devil for 40 days. He is hungry and tired, yet He holds fast, eventually driving Satan away. On the heels of this, He learns that His beloved John has been imprisoned. His reaction is quite human: He withdraws and convalesces, then He begins to preach, calling men to repentance.

Shortly afterwards, while walking beside the Sea of Galilee, Jesus sees Peter, Andrew, James and John. His overture to them was the same one that still resonates in the human heart: “Follow me.”

He begins to heal the sick until the crowds become overwhelming. Jesus finds a place on the mountainside to rest and calls his freshmen disciples to Him. After laying some ground rules about being blessed, He stares at the fishermen, tax collectors, laborers, workers, and states very bluntly, “You are the light of the world.” They must have been astonished! Surely science or reason was the light of the world; perhaps self-enlightenment or ingenuity could be labelled such, but could human beings really be the light of the world? Jesus further admonishes them to let their light shine before others, thereby glorifying their Father in heaven.

It is not coincidental that James described God as the “Father of Light,” or that God chose that medium to communicate with a dark world. In 1905 Einstein theorized that nothing in the cosmos travelled faster than light. He further postulated that the speed of light is independent of the motion of the light source. That makes me smile. God just needs for us to shine; He takes care of the rest.

John wrote that the entire world lies in darkness. Our cultural world is in darkness; our social world is in darkness. Our intellectual and political worlds, on the whole, exist in darkness. The light that shines in the darkness is generated by the people of God, those who know Him, those who have responded to Him.

In one of Paul’s prison epistles, he admonished the Philippians to live “blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life” (Phi. 2:15 NIV-UK). How much louder is Christ’s charge to those who await His return? Our assignment is to concentrate our strength and resources, our devotion and labor to do simply this: make the lamp burn, the light shine.

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Sometimes We Need To Be Reminded

Edward Mote was raised by atheist parents. As an adult he remarked, “So ignorant was I that I did not know that there was a God.” At 18 years old, however, he heard the gospel and was baptized. At 55, he began his first Baptist pastorate in Sussex, England.

During his lifetime he wrote more than 100 hymns, some of which have become standards in our churches and, more importantly, in our hearts. Here is my favorite:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name

On Christ the Solid Rock, I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand

When darkness veils His lovely face
I rest in His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil
(Refrain)

His oath, His covenant, His blood
Support me in the whelming flood
When all around my soul gives way,
He, then, is all my hope and stay
(Refrain)

When He shall come with trumpet sound
O, may I then in Him be found!
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne!
(Refrain)

Amen and amen!

Blessings to you all,

Janet

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Once Upon A Time (Re-Post)

When my sister and I were young, The Wizard of Oz was televised once a
year and always on Sunday night. It was a major event; the
quintessential children’s classic. It began in black and white and
changed to technicolor, and the host cautioned the audience lest they
think their set defective. (Our set did not change so we were spared
that adjustment.) Weeks in advance, we would begin pleading our case
to skip church so that we could watch it. Our batting average was
about .500.

Under a homemade “tent” (a quilt positioned over chair backs
and held by heavy books) we watched Lucy Ricardo’s antics and
laughed until we cried. I think we both hoped her schemes would work
for her now and then. Most of the time they did not.

We were glued to the set for any appearance featuring the magical
Shirley Temple. We thought her the fairest of them all. Her movies
always made us laugh and they always made us cry.

When my sister was a teenager she loved Marlo Thomas in That Girl.
We both marveled at Ann Marie’s massive eyelashes and perfect hair.
Her clothes were provided by Ohrbach’s (not sure why I remember
that) and it was worth watching the show just to see her fancy,
beautiful outfits, and her perfectly coordinated purses and shoes.

We watched beach movies featuring Gidget and her various leading men
who could, somehow, surf the waves of the Atlantic while carrying on a
conversation with fellow surfers lined up alongside them. We rooted
for backwoods Tammy and her doctor, Cinderella and her Prince, and
Peter Pan and his Tinkerbell.

To say things have changed since then is like saying that a supersonic
jet is faster than a stagecoach. We’ve thrown satellites into space
and fine-tuned our senses until we can hardly bear to be entertained
without high definition and plasma panels. I recall adjusting the
aluminum foil attached to my parent’s antenna so as to enhance the
reception of our three stations, all of which signed off at midnight.
Now our multi-faceted signal is piped directly into our homes or
handhelds and we never have to miss a beat.

About the only thing that has not changed is the fact that
entertainment, old and new, still hinges on a good story. The writers
made us care about Shirley’s dad who was fighting in the war; about
Cinderella’s cruel treatment, and Dorothy’s quest for home. The
dancing and singing, the glass slipper, and the yellow brick road were
icing on the cake. The crux of each experience, the bottom line, was
the story.

Even Jesus taught the crowds in stories. Maybe He knew that we would
more quickly grasp the significance of what He was saying if He shared
in parables. Who has not rejoiced for the Samaritan who administered
oil and wine to that halting, suffering robbery victim? (Luke
10:25-37) Who has not re-evaluated their own choices when they read
of the rich man who worked for material gain, only to die before he
enjoyed any of it? (Luke 12:16-21) And who can forget the mental
picture of the wayward prodigal who returned home to a feast instead
of a rebuke? (Luke 15)

Maybe He feared that we would not fully grasp the urgency of His
messages if He didn’t spell them out for us. Maybe He wanted to
offer it so simply that a child could understand and believe. Maybe
Jesus talked in stories because He knew we would, ourselves, each have
a story.

Your story may not be rags to riches. You may not dance in the
spotlight. You may not have tailored clothes with massive eyelashes
and perfect hair. But your story is one of a kind; unique to you. Your
DNA is not duplicated by another person on the planet. The qualities
that make you who you are are yours alone, and He has been aware of
you since you were made in secret; since you were in your mother’s
womb. All of the days of your life were written in His book before you
ever drew a breath. He knows when you sit and stand. He knows what you
are going to say before you say it. He thinks of you more often than
there are grains of sand on all of the beaches of the world.

Now, that is a story.

Blessings,
Janet

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As Far As It Depends On You

It’s Saturday, early afternoon, and Carolina forecasters are calling for a 95 degree day. I’m outdoors, in the shade, with an oscillating fan and my 12 year-old MacBook Air enjoying every second. John has embarked upon a day of garage organization for which he doesn’t need me (read: doesn’t even want me near it) so I sit here free of guilt and full of gratitude.

We survived COVID. Our family evaded the invisible assassin, while others did not. For that, I am grateful. We failed to elude other thieves but the one of highest profile, we sent packing. For that, we are grateful.

Interesting how, early on, the viral tragedy made us all more aware of each other. People everywhere saw fellow citizens as allies fighting a common enemy. As our human nature began to rear its ugly head, we became a defensive, electrifying society of split second judgments and responses. We began to seek our own favorable result, abandoning fidelity to the whole of mankind. That goes in marked contrast to what Paul proposed to the Romans:

“Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves…. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another…. Do not be conceited…. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”

Despite being in this post pandemic state, one gets the feeling that Paul would compel us to practice hospitality, harmony and empathy; that he would make forgiveness our default action. Perhaps he had in mind Jesus’ response to the law expert who asked of Him the greatest commandment in the law? We all learned this early on:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind…. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”  

Can you even imagine living in a world that embraced those directives?

Well, it’s nearing the predicted 95 degrees and I’m feeling that there will be other, cooler outdoor afternoons. Re: Jesus’ top two commandments, I’m thinking that the best starting place is right here – with the one holding the laptop and dabbing perspiration. He will have to help, but He promised that would be no problem.

Have a wonderful Father’s Day. 

Blessings,

Janet

PS… Next month we return to lovely Potomac Park, Falling Water, West Virginia. We would love to see you!

POTOMAC PARK RETREAT AND CONFERENCE CENTER

11 TABERNACLE WAY,  FALLING WATER, WV 25419   (855) 929-7722 

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Perfect Solution

Good afternoon, Everybody!

It is September – and we are readying for my first post-COVID concert. Something tells me that, being a little older, I’ll need a refresher on my lyrics and arrangements. I can make up words on the fly but they don’t always rhyme and/or make sense.

This first concert back is a best-case scenario. These are unprecedented times, and these salt of the earth Iowans have the perfect solution. It is the Quad Cities 26th Annual Prayer Breakfast at the RiverCenter in Davenport. What better response to a lack of precedence than prayer? I’ve attached the flyer below for those of you who are in the area. We would love to see you!

We hope you are finding that God is moving in our crippled arena. We pray that you all remain healthy and watchful; God is up to something.

We love you! More later….

Janet

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“Build Me A Son, O Lord”

There is a Yiddish proverb: Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht – Man plans and God laughs. God’s Word is filled with warnings about how vulnerable and precarious life is. You and I are eyewitnesses to the truth of that. This year we moved to a new “normal” and, sadly, it looks as though we have lost Mayberry forever.

This Sunday we will celebrate Father’s Day in our coronavirus world. Fortunately, fathers are accustomed to last minute shifts and plan modifications. They have lived their lives juggling the schedules and whims of their families; this is especially so if there were daughters involved

General Douglas MacArthur was a much-celebrated father. He commanded the Southwest Pacific in World War II; he presided over the unconditional surrender of the Japanese aboard the USS Missouri; he led the coalition of UN troops during the Korean War. He served as superintendent of West Point Academy, Chief of Staff of the Army, and Field Marshal of the Philippines.

USS MIssouri

During the desperate days of the Pacific War in the Philippines, MacArthur wrote a prayer for his son, Arthur. When the General died in 1964, the New York Times highlighted it in a full page tribute to this military father.

“Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

“Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds; a son who will know Thee—and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

“Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

“Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high, a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men, one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

“And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity or true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, and the meekness of true strength.

“Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, ‘I have not lived in vain.’”

Happy Father’s Day to you all. May the Lord keep you in safety and good health.

We love you!

Janet

PS…. My first post-coronavirus event will be on July 21, 22. Details are on the website.

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