Category / General

by Janet Paschal

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

by Janet Paschal

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.

by Janet Paschal

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

by Janet Paschal

Once Upon A Time

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

by Janet Paschal

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 

by Janet Paschal

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

by Janet Paschal

“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.

by Janet Paschal

STEP INTO THE STREAM

Sometimes you have to take a minute, sit back and enjoy the moment. Some days you have to put chores and demands on the shelf and live in the moment… in His peace…. In His presence. My sister calls it stepping into the ‘stream’ of His presence. I’m thinking she may be on to something.

We recently travelled to Brooksville, Florida, where the Wesleyan Church has carved out their own little piece of heaven: a beautiful sanctuary as well as Wesleyan Village where retired Christian workers and, of course, snowbirds live. The staff is wonderful, including a tech team that is savvy, capable, and, wait for it, nice. Yes, I said it. The church hosts winter concerts and the community is the benefactor. John and I have decided that we could entertain the idea of living in an almost crime-free community of believers with golf courses and tennis courts. Somebody has to do it.

Anyway, Brooksville Wesleyan provides a link to stream their concerts and I’ve included it below.
https://bwcflorida.com/watch

This past Friday, we landed in Thomaston, GA for fuel on the way to our concert in Cantonment, Florida. Much to our surprise, a large group of Army soldiers were practicing their skydiving jumps and they landed (perfectly) just feet away from us! It was fabulous to watch those proud professionals plant their landings and gather their parachutes. It was like watching a ballet – intricate timing that comes from tedious repetition and unwavering dedication. Made us proud to be Americans!

Happy Birthday, Sue!

From Thomaston, we headed to Victory Assembly in Cantonment where Sue, the Pastor’s wife, was having her 50th birthday. Her husband booked us for the event a few months before and asked me to send a video birthday greeting. On Friday night, he explained to Sue and the audience that, in lieu of coming, I sent a video message. At the end of the message, as everyone was singing ‘Happy Birthday’, I walked out singing. She was shocked!! We had a fabulous time and she did, as well. The church family there is like our family now, and we were so impressed by the way the Lord is moving and working through Pastor Jeff, Pastor Glenn and the staff and the believers there.

So… some days I just sit back and relive the special moments, knowing that they are gifts, priceless crumbs to keep us on the best path. When we have delightful company along the way, it reminds us of Psalm 118, ‘The Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes’.

And so it is.

We love you all!

Janet

by Janet Paschal

IT’S A GIRL THING…

Yesterday John sent me a text that I feel compelled to share with you:

‘Gloom, despair, and agony on me
Deep, dark depression, excessive misery,
If it weren’t for no blog I’d have no blog at all
Gloom, despair, and bloglessness on me.’

The man knows how to get his point across. To that end, here goes….

Much is said these days about girls; in fact, we have been paraded, wrangled, and plopped into the cultural arena like never before. We are advocated, elevated, and defended. In some extreme cases, we present a silent threat by our presence alone. Ironically, what my friends and I really want is to simply enjoy being girls.

Connie Hopper is a gospel music legend. The first time I walked on the stage as a professional was in 1974 when she was sick and the group (our distant neighbors) asked me to fill in for her. I stepped on their tour bus and realized my highest dream. They were gracious and patient. They were (and are) kind people who cheer for everyone else. They are sincere champions of the music genre whose history and track record is unsurpassed for all of the right reasons.

Deana Warren and I have been friends for about that long, as well. She began as a reporter and a publicist for the Singing News. She so loved gospel music that she wrapped her life around it. She ran down every path that led to a concert, an interview, a press release, etc. She genuinely loved her work and people took notice. She met Bill and Gloria Gaither indirectly but they recognized her meticulous work and loyal character. She is now in her 24th year working with them.

We met for lunch this week and we did what girls do. We caught up. We laughed. We told stories – new, old, funny, sad. We analyzed the state of the music industry, the culture, the church. We bemoaned the impact of age, the loss of our memory, and other things I cannot recall. But we had a blast! We sat at a table by the window for three hours – three hours, I say – and savored every second of it.

Have you noticed that when Jesus had important things to share, He often did it at a meal? He dined with sinners and tax collectors, and we can only imagine the gist of that conversation. Remember the night of rigorous fishing when Jesus suggested, ‘Let’s have breakfast!’? That was when He queried Peter, ‘Do you love me more than these?’ Remember the Passover meal when He told His apostles that He “eagerly desired” to eat the meal with them? It wasn’t the food – it was the conversation.

And so it was. Friends with benefits: the gift of history with each other, the trust forged in bygone days, the sweet assurance that it will last forever.

by Janet Paschal

Atop Sand Mountain

My concert was Sunday night at the lovely First Baptist in Rainesville, Alabama. The city sits atop Sand Mountain – a quaint, little town of 5,000 with a Mayberry feel. John was flying Kay and me to the Isbell airport, where we would be met by Keith Beatty – a longtime friend and fantastic musician.

When we were ready to depart KBUY (Burlington, NC), John had a little “talk” with us. He explained that we were planning to fly non-stop and that the airplane does not have bathroom facilities. Smiling, he suggested that we revisit the fixed base operation there at Burlington and keep our beverage intake to a minimum, as our flight would last about three hours. We happily agreed, as landings are time consuming and inconvenient.

We settled in for the flight. John thanked us for our understanding, we hit the runway and lifted off.

The flight was amazing. We soared over the beautiful trees and landscapes of North Carolina; we flew above the Great Smokey Mountains – up close and personal; we moved along the ridge of the Blue Ridge Mountains; we crossed the friendly Chattanooga River, working our way above and below clouds, marveling at the Genesis firmaments. It was a perfect day for flying and the cabin was occupied by a threesome that understood we were staring at God’s handiwork.

When we were about 45 minutes outside of Isbell, it happened. John calmly announced, “Janet, I don’t think I can make it.” Now, when you are thousands of feet in the air and there is only one person onboard who is capable of landing an airplane, the last thing you want to hear is that THEY are having a problem. Kay and I both looked at him hoping for an indication that he was joking. After laying the groundwork for a perfect flight and making sure that we planned for an arid nonstop, John had to go to the bathroom! However much grief you can imagine we gave him, believe me, we gave him more. Suddenly he was looking for a small airport and, fortunately for us, we were at the tip of the Blue Ridge Mountains. He set a heading for Blairsville, GA.

John flew through the valleys of the mountains, reminding us both of a Bond movie. We
crossed a small ridge, aligned with a perfect mountain valley, and lined up with the runway. It was magical! A little airport in the middle of the mountainous borders. There was an old model pickup truck in the parking lot and the building was decorated for Christmas. We went to the door, found it unlocked and discovered it was empty. There was a note left for visitors to help themselves to coffee and snacks – all available using the honor system and a converted plastic jug. Kay and I looked for doilies and a communal water jug, certain this was right out of a scene from Mayberry. In a little bit, we departed for Isbell.

When we arrived Isbell, Keith asked if we’d had breakfast? John said he’d had two cups of coffee and a large helping of crow.

We had a wonderful evening with this family of believers, and an instant connection with Pastor David and Roxanne. The Lord is moving on that mountain. As Gloria says, “God always has a people…”

We love you all and wish you a Very Merry Christmas!