TheDiscipleMD

Many years ago my nephew was a starting pitcher for the Philadelphia Phillies baseball team. It was an exciting time for the entire extended family as the chance of having “one of your own” actually playing professional baseball is a once in a lifetime thing. It is quite amazing to sit in the stands, or watch on television, as the child you once bounced on your knee, is now on the mound at Veterans Stadium throwing to the likes of Mark McGuire. The entire family was thrilled and proud of him.

I recall one of the first opportunities I had to watch him pitch professionally because it presented me with a problem of biblical proportion. If you know anything about professional baseball, the exact day a pitcher throws is scheduled only a few days in advance. So it was that I found myself in a bit of a quandary one summer day when I found out that the evening he was pitching in Philadelphia, which was an hours drive from my house, fell upon an evening I had committed to speak at a church Boy Scout Camp fireside.

My entire extended family was excited and everyone had made plans on attending the game. As a church leader I had spoken at and attended many Boy Scout Camps in my day. After considering the rare opportunity it was to watch my nephew pitch, I made the decision to back out of my church commitment. Time was short as the camp was only two days away so I knew I needed to get on the phone right away to cancel. The church brother who had asked me to speak was a friend. When I dialed his number it never occurred to me that he would pick up the phone, and without me saying a word, (he had caller ID), hear him say, “Please don’t tell me you’re calling to back out of the assignment to speak. The two other speakers who had committed for the evening already did that and you are the only one I have left!” My mind raced and so I stammered a bit before I said, “Well, I do have a conflict. My nephew is pitching for the Phillies that night and my whole family is attending.” There was silence on the other end and it was during that moment of silence that my mind raced through the dilemma before me. Surely, I thought, the Lord would understand, as well as my friend, that the game is more important than a talk at a Boy Scout Camp! I mean, come on! Suddenly the covenants and obligations that I had taken upon myself in being a follower of Jesus Christ came to mind.

A couple of nights later I found myself standing and delivering a fireside talk to the young men at scout camp. I mentioned in my remarks to them that I was there that night for one reason. My mind told me that I would have preferred being at Veterans Stadium watching my nephew pitch along with my family. But my heart told me that I had a duty elsewhere that was more important and that sometimes responding to duty requires sacrifice. Particularly when it comes to our duty to God!

I don’t know if that talk meant anything to anyone attending that camp. I guess it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that all these years later I remember the feelings of having to make that decision and feeling good about my choice. Ballgames come, go, and then pass into oblivion. So do Boy Scout camps. But what lingers in each of us are the accumulation of daily decisions that each of us makes, be it good or bad. And it is those small decisions that are the building blocks that make us who we are. I recall that my nephew won “the decision” that day on the mound and it is now in the record books of man.  My decision was never recorded in the books of man, but I have hope that it is recorded in a heavenly book that is much more meaningful and lasting!

Those who know me well know how much baseball has been a part of my life. On many occasions, for birthdays and other important events, I have sent random baseball cards to others just for the joy of doing it. The card has often been random, and the card is simply something I like to give. But on occasion, I have given a baseball card that has a deep meaning to me. I once sent a two-sided card to my brother, who was terminally ill, inside a plastic case of his favorite player, Mickey Mantle, and mine, Bobby Richardson. Both were teammates of the NY Yankees in the 1960’s. It was symbolic to me of our brotherhood. Since his death, it has been given back to me, and I hold it dear to my heart.

I recently received a baseball card of Buckey Dent, whom I used as a storyline in a DiscipleMD that I wrote about my wife. I was deeply touched when one of my long-ago friends sent it to me as a “Thank you” for that story. In the 1990’s I sent a card of John Kruk to a good friend of mine, Raul, who had my admiration. The dirty uniform on Kruk reminded me of the devotion this selfless man had given to many, and that he was willing to get his uniform “dirty” to help others out. He still does today. He and his wife accepted an assignment far from home by our church to serve once again. He and his wife dutifully accepted. His assignment was near my new home. We had dinner not too long ago before they finished up their important work.

In 2002, my mother died. Losing your mother, no matter how old you are, is an agonizing loss. Shortly thereafter, a sympathy card arrived in the mail with a handwritten note. Tucked inside was this same John Kruk card from Raul and an encouraging note acknowledging his love and concern for me and my well-being. I can’t tell you the impact that had on me. I now proudly display both cards in my office. They both have real value to me. They remind me of the goodness of others in blessing my life.

What is the message? Well, the answer, of course, is that little things we do can have a giant and powerful impact on the lives of others for good! And that is the “Crux” of the matter!

TheDiscipleMD

Many years ago, I was visiting a member of my church I had not seen for a long time, with the full-time missionaries. As we entered the home, the four children all went running to the Elders with smiles on their faces, and the Elders smiled back, welcoming them by name. Smiles abounded. The mother came from around the corner of the kitchen with a look of joy on her face as she greeted us. For a moment, that house, which was suffering under great challenges, was filled with a unique joy that comes only from the spirit of God. As I watched the missionaries interact with the family, a flashback came to my mind. I could see myself, along with my companion, as missionaries, having the same exchanges with many humble families years ago in Argentina. I recall walking the dirt streets of the poor neighborhoods as small children gathered around us. Many of them had dirty faces and wore dirty clothes. But the smiles they flashed at us lit up the dark streets where they lived. As we entered the tin homes with dirt floors, the mothers would send out their kids to buy some sort of “soda pop” for the representatives of Jesus who had come to their homes. We would protest, but they would always insist. It seemed the story of the widow’s mite played out before us day after day. In their faith, they gave what little they had to us, who represented the Savior. Many were not members of the church. I was touched by the genuine nature of their faith.

As my mind came back to present day, I could see that all those who visit those in need, are fulfilling the words of James the apostle when he wrote, “Pure religion…undefiled before God..is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction…” (James 1:27). Our missionaries go all over world doing good works, much of which never shows up in some statistical measure. No, many who are visited never join the church and partake of the full blessings that come with acceptance of the restored gospel. But the good works done, and the joy that is brought into the lives of those visited, are not those really the fruit of the laborers of Christ?

I was amazed that the above mother of four still remembered being invited over with her family to my house for Family Home Evening almost thirty years ago. She even remembered the lesson given that night. She was only about six years old at the time. Her family was not of the same economic background, nor did we have any common interest, except the gospel. We invited them over just that once.  Now I wonder why? I guess it is because you usually invite only your closest friends over, and they invite you. But I was reminded of the Savior’s admonition when he taught the people with the parable of the feast.

“Then said he…When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsman, nor they rich neighbours; lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: And thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.” (Luke 14: 12-14).

Perhaps we should all be better about inviting others to our homes. The impact it can have for good can be great for them and for us. I found that out in my visit to the home of a long-ago little girl, now a mother of four,  who recited back to me the lesson I taught to her family that night, over thirty years before. As I left that night, I thought, I should open my doors more often to others who could bless the lives of my family and share in the joy that comes when two or more are gathered in His name!

TheDiscipleMD

A “peck” can be defined as a ‘light kiss’ or ‘a large amount of something.’ In the case of my wife, she gave me both in a quick moment we shared a few years ago. Let me explain.

A few years ago presented a number of challenges for us as a couple, and no matter how long you have been married, bruises and hurts still come your way. Among health issues and a loss of parents, our 15 year old dog also passed away. Now, although this was one of the least of the issues that presented itself that year,  it still hurts to lose a trusted and loved dog. Well, I should say, a dog my wife loved, and one that I tolerated. Although, I must admit that my affection for him was developing stronger by the year.

My wife wanted a replacement but I was not ready to take on another animal for life. The biggest mistake in ‘exploring’ the option is to ‘dog shop.’ If you have done it, it’s deadly, as hundreds of canines are cute, cuddly, and downright irresistible! I didn’t go dog shopping with my wife but many extended family members accompanied her in the quest for a new family pet. Shockingly, she found more than one to take home. With the urging of her entourage, she finally found the cutest of all cute dogs and had the pet store hold it for her for 24 hours.

When she informed me that she was getting a dog, I spoke rather adamantly and strongly against the proposition. Some would say I yelled and they are probably right as they witnessed my displeasure scene. However, within a few hours my heart softened, and I acquiesced. So the next day we drove to the pet store to buy our new ‘friend for life.’ And as expected the puppy was gorgeous and adorable. As she held this pup in her arms, I said, “Well lets get her!” Then something happened I didn’t expect.

She looked at me and said, “Do you really want this puppy?” I replied, “Do you want the truth?” She nodded. “”Well, no…but…I want you to be happy and I know you want the puppy so I am willing to go forward to make you happy.” Then she said, “But you really don’t want one do you?” “Well, no. But I want to get one for you.” She put the puppy down and said with such pleasantry, “Let’s go!” I followed her and when we got in the car I repeated several times I would be happy to commit to getting a puppy. Then she smiled and said, “Yes, I know but we will wait till you are ready.” She leaned over and gave me a quick ‘peck’ on the lips, smiled and put on her seat belt.

We still haven’t gotten a dog yet and I probably will come around to actually wanting one in the next few months. I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that from the moment she gave me a ‘peck’, I felt a ‘large amount of something.’ That something was love, honor and respect for her husband. It’s moments like that ‘peck’ that create the building blocks of what marriage is really all about.

The sound of yelping, dog feeding, dog poop duty, and cleaning the carpet are sure to come back to our home. And when it does, we will both smile, look at each other, and she will give me a quick ‘peck’ as she hands me the doggie bag and says, “Your turn!”

Post Note: The sound of yelping returned to our home not too long after I wrote this as we are now the proud owners of not one but two Labradoodles! Though I must admit that I’m questioning if a “Peck” is enough reward for being the captain of the doggy bag for two!