Thank you! Thank you for receiving and welcoming my family and I. We feel very blessed to be a part of what God is doing at Williams Memorial United Methodist Church. We look forward to our future together in Jesus Christ. As I emerge from the chaos of moving and the sea of boxes that has been my family’s life over the last few months, I have come to realize that unpacking boxes can be fun.
Our family jokes that it is like Christmas or your birthday all over again. There is a new awareness that comes with each item that you unpack. As you come across items that you had in the old location, you look on them with new eyes. Some items become less useful. You realize that if you never unpacked them in the old location, why are you moving them again? Other items, you look at and realize that you forgot you had something so cool. And that item gains new prominence in the new location. Some things have meaning not because of what they are, but because they remind you of people and places that you have known. The shared experiences give them their value. They are special because of who gave them to you and where you got them. So, as I continue unboxing memories, I thought it might be insightful for you to know a couple of memories in ministry that have been precious to me.
One memory is of my ministry at St. Paul UMC in Bridge City, Texas from June of 2009 to June of 2013. Our ministry there was during a time of rapid growth. We were blessed to be a part of wonderful memories there. A story that captures some of the blessing we were able to witness was that of a thirty-something year old man, a co-worker of my wife, and occasional guest of the church. In 2010, he had a surgery that went horribly wrong. He spent several months in ICU. When we went to visit, we would have to put on gloves and a gown to see him. He was not able to speak, so I would recite scripture, pray, and hold his hand. His wife and children were struggling to deal with the hardship caused by his incapacity. Members of the church surrounded he and his family and loved them through that difficult time. Numerous lay people made a difference in their lives. I remember a day in about the third week of ICU after one of my visits, I called my wife and told her to pray and prepare because I did not think that he would live much longer. But, I was wrong. Not only did he live. He recovered! On a visit after he was able to speak again, I asked him. “Do you remember anything from ICU?” He replied, “No, my wife saw the log and knew I had lots of visitors, but I don’t remember anything but a funny dream.” “What was the dream?” I asked. He stated, “I remember Jesus holding my hand. I know that there were all of these different visitors, but all I can remember is Jesus holding my hand.” Wow! To be a part of the team that let him know that Jesus was holding his hand in that difficult time, is kind of what shared ministry is all about. As I reflect on my ministry at St. Paul, I feel so extremely blessed to be one of the people who held his hand for Jesus’ name. That next year he and his family would be baptized and join St. Paul as members. As I look forward to our time together at Williams Memorial, I look forward to being a part of the shared ministry for Jesus in this place.
As I continue unpacking boxes, I also remember another memory from my time in ministry in Nacogdoches from June 2004 until June 2009. During hurricane Rita in 2005, the winds and rains made it all of the way into East Texas. One of the parishioners, a widow member of the congregation, had her roof blown off of her home and lost nearly everything. The Sunday following the storm, Bonita, the little church, had no water, no electricity, and many downed tree limbs in the church yard. But, we gathered. The kids, Laura, and I cleared paths to the sanctuary for the mostly elderly congregation. And although it was not the first Sunday of the month, we celebrated Holy Communion. Without air conditioning and with just a handful of people, we worshiped. After Communion, the widow pulled me aside and let me know about the damage to her home and all that she had lost. But, she told me, “You know, if I’m going to rebuild my life, I can’t think of a better way to do it than with Jesus Christ.” Later, she would speak often of that moment with God in the dark sanctuary after she had to restart her life. She would explain that the hope of Jesus in that moment gave her the courage to begin again. As we gather together at Williams Memorial, my prayer is that the hope of Jesus binds us together and gives us strength.
Each person’s story of faith is so very precious and special. As I unpack, I remember and feel very thankful for the way that God has blessed me to witness God’s movement in so many peoples’ lives. I feel truly blessed to serve God. I also look forward to the way that God will move among us at Williams Memorial in our time together. Laura, John, Kate, and I look forward to making memories with you as we journey together. May the hope of Jesus lead us to be the hands of Jesus in the world.
Our family jokes that it is like Christmas or your birthday all over again. There is a new awareness that comes with each item that you unpack. As you come across items that you had in the old location, you look on them with new eyes. Some items become less useful. You realize that if you never unpacked them in the old location, why are you moving them again? Other items, you look at and realize that you forgot you had something so cool. And that item gains new prominence in the new location. Some things have meaning not because of what they are, but because they remind you of people and places that you have known. The shared experiences give them their value. They are special because of who gave them to you and where you got them. So, as I continue unboxing memories, I thought it might be insightful for you to know a couple of memories in ministry that have been precious to me.
One memory is of my ministry at St. Paul UMC in Bridge City, Texas from June of 2009 to June of 2013. Our ministry there was during a time of rapid growth. We were blessed to be a part of wonderful memories there. A story that captures some of the blessing we were able to witness was that of a thirty-something year old man, a co-worker of my wife, and occasional guest of the church. In 2010, he had a surgery that went horribly wrong. He spent several months in ICU. When we went to visit, we would have to put on gloves and a gown to see him. He was not able to speak, so I would recite scripture, pray, and hold his hand. His wife and children were struggling to deal with the hardship caused by his incapacity. Members of the church surrounded he and his family and loved them through that difficult time. Numerous lay people made a difference in their lives. I remember a day in about the third week of ICU after one of my visits, I called my wife and told her to pray and prepare because I did not think that he would live much longer. But, I was wrong. Not only did he live. He recovered! On a visit after he was able to speak again, I asked him. “Do you remember anything from ICU?” He replied, “No, my wife saw the log and knew I had lots of visitors, but I don’t remember anything but a funny dream.” “What was the dream?” I asked. He stated, “I remember Jesus holding my hand. I know that there were all of these different visitors, but all I can remember is Jesus holding my hand.” Wow! To be a part of the team that let him know that Jesus was holding his hand in that difficult time, is kind of what shared ministry is all about. As I reflect on my ministry at St. Paul, I feel so extremely blessed to be one of the people who held his hand for Jesus’ name. That next year he and his family would be baptized and join St. Paul as members. As I look forward to our time together at Williams Memorial, I look forward to being a part of the shared ministry for Jesus in this place.
As I continue unpacking boxes, I also remember another memory from my time in ministry in Nacogdoches from June 2004 until June 2009. During hurricane Rita in 2005, the winds and rains made it all of the way into East Texas. One of the parishioners, a widow member of the congregation, had her roof blown off of her home and lost nearly everything. The Sunday following the storm, Bonita, the little church, had no water, no electricity, and many downed tree limbs in the church yard. But, we gathered. The kids, Laura, and I cleared paths to the sanctuary for the mostly elderly congregation. And although it was not the first Sunday of the month, we celebrated Holy Communion. Without air conditioning and with just a handful of people, we worshiped. After Communion, the widow pulled me aside and let me know about the damage to her home and all that she had lost. But, she told me, “You know, if I’m going to rebuild my life, I can’t think of a better way to do it than with Jesus Christ.” Later, she would speak often of that moment with God in the dark sanctuary after she had to restart her life. She would explain that the hope of Jesus in that moment gave her the courage to begin again. As we gather together at Williams Memorial, my prayer is that the hope of Jesus binds us together and gives us strength.
Each person’s story of faith is so very precious and special. As I unpack, I remember and feel very thankful for the way that God has blessed me to witness God’s movement in so many peoples’ lives. I feel truly blessed to serve God. I also look forward to the way that God will move among us at Williams Memorial in our time together. Laura, John, Kate, and I look forward to making memories with you as we journey together. May the hope of Jesus lead us to be the hands of Jesus in the world.
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