May I Have a Cup of Coffee?

The question sounds innocent and straightforward enough, right? Or maybe not! I went to Starbucks one morning around 8:00 and ordered “a cup of coffee please”.

“Would you like Frappucinno, Expresso, iced or brewed?

“Just a hot cup of regular ole’ coffee please…

“What flavor?”

“Flavor?”

“We have Cinnamon, cherry, dark cherry, peppermint, caramel, chocolate…”

“Do you have ordinary coffee?”

“Yes sir, we have ‘coffee of the day’”

“Good, I’ll take that.” There are now two people behind me in line.

“Pike Roast or Columbian?”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know the taste I guess…”

“Columbian”

“Decaf or Regular?” Finally, a question I understand.

“Regular” I think there are four people behind me, but I’m afraid to look.

“Mild or Bold?”

“Which is better?”

“I don’t know I don’t drink coffee.”

“Bold, I guess.” The line is not up to six and I can hear some rumbling going on.

“Short, Tall, Grande or Venti?”

“What?” Did someone whisper ‘hurry up’?

“What do you mean?”

“What size do you want?”

“What’s Venti?”

“It’s Italian for twenty.”

“Twenty what?”

“Twenty ounces”

“How big is Grande?”

"Sixteen ounces"

“Okay, just give a small”

“Okay, one tall regular Columbian coffee of the day.”

“No I said a small.”

“We don't have a small. A Tall is a small.”

“Then what’s the short?”

“It’s a small tall but it’s not on the menu.”

“Then why did you offer it?”

“Well we have it but you normally have to request it because it’s not on the menu.” The line is now 10.

“That makes no sense?”

“Sir I only work here.” They open another line; at least the pressure is off for a bit.

“Okay, I’ll take the small tall.”

“A short?”

“No a small tall.”

“That is a short.”

“Give me a Grande”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Can I add it myself?”

“Yes, but you need to tell us if you want it.”

“Why? Is it extra?”

“No Sir”

“Then why do you have to know?”

“If you want cream and sugar we don’t give you a full cup?”

“So I get less coffee if I want cream and sugar?” The line is backing up again.

“Well, yes but only to leave room for the cream and sugar.”

“Oh. Cream, please.”

“Low fat, Nonfat, Breve, Soy, Organic or Eggnog?”

“Just black please”

“Here or to go?”

“I’d better get it to go; I’m expected home for supper.”

“Name?”

“You need my name to order coffee.” Two people left, I’m glad they were pretty grumpy folks.

“Yes to put on the cup.”

“You want to write my name on the cup?”

“Yes sir, it’s so we can call you when it’s ready.”

“When it’s ready?! It’s just a cup of coffee.” Both lines now have 10-12 people, I quit counting.

“Yes sir, but there are a lot of orders being filled and we’ll get yours as soon as we can.”

“Okay, put down Bob.” I didn’t give my real name because I was afraid of retribution from the crowd.

“Okay, Bob that will be $1.85.”

Silence.

“Bob that will be $1.85.”

Silence.

“Bob! Sir!”

“Oh, sorry I forgot my name for a second. $1.85!. Does that come with refills.”

“No Sir.”

“That’s $1.85 for a black, bold, Grande, Columbian coffee of the day. Would you like anything else.” Someone behind me said “no thank you.”

“I guess not.”

“Cash?”

“No, someone gave me this $50 gift card, so I guess I’ll be back again.” Something must have happened, the crowd was groaning behind me.

“I’ll have to thank them.”

“You’ve been very helpful. Are you working tomorrow?”

“Why, are you coming back?”

“I plan to come back every morning until my card is used up.”

“No, Bob, I’m on vacation for the next month.”

“Oh! Too bad.” I paid my bill, waited until my name was called, got my coffee and left. There must have been a party because I heard a big applause as I walked out the door.

Life is full of choices and decisions. Often times we become overwhelmed with life and the choices that we have to make. We long for times when we could walk in and say, “a cup of coffee please” and the waitress sets it down in front of us without asking a question at all.

Sometimes we just want someone to help us get things across. You know the Holy Spirit is that way. When we make our requests to God we are told that the Holy Spirit helps us to communicate. “We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” It’s a simple process, no decisions required on our part.

Tomorrow, I will be thankful that when I turn on my coffee pot, I’ll get coffee with no questions asked. And when I pray, I’ll be thankful that the Spirit of God is talking on my behalf.

Leave 'em Laughing

His name was Jack Thum. His profession was a professional clown. Few people remember him especially those outside the Chicago area. You see, Jack died some thirty years ago of terminal cancer.

When Jack died, Walter Cronkite mentioned it on his broadcast and the church bells of Chicago rang in tribute. All of Chicago mourned.

So what made him so special? Why, on October 31, 1979 did the mayor of Chicago declare the day to be "Jack Thum Day"? Why did Chicago mourn? The answer lies in the fact that Jack was more than just a clown. He was a man who loved children. For years he would perform in the children wards of the Chicago hospitals mostly without any compensation. He did it because he loved to make the sick children laugh.

But even greater than that, he and his wife, Shirlee, cared for 37 orphaned and neglected children throughout their married lives as well as their own. Although a couple of little means they cared for these homeless girls and boys without any government assistance. Again they did it simply because they loved children.

Mickey Rooney portrays Jack in a little known movie entitled "Leave 'em Laughing". In it there's a little song that carries a great thought. The movie has it as Jack's theme song. Its simple lyrics go:

"Wear a smile
On your face
When you're feeling blue
For a smile makes you feel
Like you think you should.
It's part of the clothes you wear
After you comb your hair.
Just put on your shoes and smile."

There's a lesson we can learn from Jack. We have a choice in how we approach life. We can wallow in the negatives and misery or we can put a smile on our face and make life better for ourselves or especially someone else.

Jack Thum's name will soon be forgotten except for an occasional rerun of the movie. There will be no more "Jack Thum Days" and the church bells will remain silent on the anniversary of his death. Soon his life will fade away into the pages of someones ancestral history.

But in the minds of the hundreds of children who saw him in the hospital his love will remain. The lives and futures of 37 boys and girls that spent time in his home will forever have Jack Thum as part of their heritage.

So, what mark will we leave behind? Will someones life be better off because they crossed our path? Will tomorrow be better because we were there for them today? Will someone be uplifted because we taught them to smile?

It should be our goal every day we live to find at least one person whose life will be happier because their path crossed ours. We should make it a point to make every day we live better for someone else and in wearing a smile on our face make their tomorrows better than their yesterdays.

It All Started with Kraft

I believe it all started with Kraft. It was on that day when I opened the bag of caramels and discovered it wasn’t there that I began to realize that things had changed. I thought little of it at the time, but when I opened the second bag and found the same thing was missing, it was then that I knew the end was near. It wasn’t there and chances are it never would be again. I was disheartened at the change; a change in something that had been an American staple for all the years that I grew up. It was something my brother, sister and I fought over with each opened bag, but now it was gone. When did it happen? Was it when Nabisco bought them out? Was it before that, just to cut costs? Why change? Why leave out the single most important part of the bag? Tears come to my eyes as I think of that one lonesome chocolate fudge caramel once hidden in each bag and the loss haunts the memories of my childhood!

Change is something that has slowly slipped into our world and it is disheartening and confusing at times. Remember when a five pound bag of sugar was five pounds? Now it’s only four. For Christmas my mom would always give me a box of chocolate covered cherries; twenty to a box. Suddenly there were only 16 and the last box was only 12. The box was about the same size but the contents had gone down dramatically. Frankfurters are now 8 to a package instead of 10. Of course that one was logical since buns were always eight to a package, but I suspect any day now that will change to 6. This week all of a sudden the bread was shorter and sure enough, it was now one and a fourth pounds instead of one and a half. A sixteen ounce can of green beans is now fourteen and a half ounces, a pound of coffee is thirteen and an half ounces and baking chocolate has dropped two ounces in some brands, while cupcakes and Twinkies are down a third.

Oh, and it’s not only the food industry. A two by four is now a one and three-fourths by three and three fourths, while a three quarter inch sheet of plywood is now only twenty-three thirty seconds. So why, are they still called two by fours and three quarter inch plywood?

And by the way, did you know that the 400 meter dash is only 437.44 yards and the 1600 meter run is 10 yards short of a mile! Now when did that one slip in on us?

Change can quietly slip up on us and as a result can make life very frustrating. We get comfortable and secure in knowing things are dependable, when suddenly, without warning, we get caught off guard when quietly our security is torn out from under us.

In this world of change, however, there is one thing that never changes, Jesus Christ. The Hebrews writer tells us that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.” (13:8) No matter what happens in the world we live in this is the one foundation stone on which we can continually trust. It is the one place we can always, from now and forever, turn to for security.

By the way I’m thinking of petitioning Kraft to bring back the fudge caramel in the regular bag of caramels. Some things just shouldn’t change!

Why You Should Watch MTV

I believe every adult should sit down one evening, turn on the TV (or turn on the TV first if you live in the stone ages and don't have a remote) and tune in to watch MTV. You should plan to block out the whole evening so that you can get a good grasp of the station. After you have enjoyed your four hours go back and read the following article from the magazine "America, Return to God" edited by Thomas Wang.

“According to the Nielson Media Research, MTV is watched by 73% of boys and 78% of girls aged 12-19. Children are the target of the hard-selling of casual sex, drugs and alcohol. The Parents Television Council reported in their study that children on the average watch 9 sexual scenes per hour, 9 un-bleeped expletives per hour and 6 violent scenes per hour on MTV music programs. MTV reality show have about 13 sexual scenes per hour. There were 52 obscene words per hour in the program “Making the Band 2” and 32 sexual segments per hour in the program “Spring Break Fantasies”. Studies have shown that MTV is influential in changing the attitude of teenagers towards accepting promiscuity and homosexuality. With an hour of watching MTV, teenagers would have less inhibition in resisting sexual desires and temptations. Moreover, MTV is a prime station for beer commercials.”

Why should you watch it? So that you will know first hand what's coming into your home. So that you will, without hesitation, every time you walk through the room and the station is tuned in, calmly walk over to the remote and CHANGE THE CHANNEL.

Battle Scars

When you go into battle chances are you are going to face an injury or wounds of some type. My battle injuries have not come from war since I have never been able to serve our country in this manner. My battle scars come from sports.

In baseball I’ve had “strawberries” from sliding into base and jammed fingers from catching the ball wrongly. I played second base and used my left leg to block the base from the runners stealing second. Mind you this was in the days of steel cleats so my left legging was ripped to shreds and left calf remained scared from being in the way of many a base stealer.

In track I ran the hurdles, high and low. We started out with a cinder track, which meant every time I fell I ended up picking small pieces of red clay from their embedded homes in my arms and legs. My left knee remained in a state of “need of repair” from constantly nicking the top of a hurdle as I sailed over them and sprinted down the track.

In football I played tailback, offensive end, defensive end and was on the kickoff and return team. I have had a broken collar bone, broken cervical vertebrae, two holes drilled in my skull for traction (no comments please) a cracked knuckle, two broken teeth, sprained ankles, a hip pointer and cuts, bruises and abrasions most of which I can’t even remember.

But, you know what? There is not one of these sports that I wouldn’t want to go back and play again. I loved all of them. Injuries and wounds are just part of the game. They are going to happen if you are on the field of play. The only ones who don’t get injured are those who are on the sidelines. Well, they may get injured if they stand in the way of someone playing, but for the most part sideliners are pretty healthy.

Life is that way, too. Any time you are trying to move ahead, anytime you are trying to do what is right, any time you take a risk there is the chance that you will be scarred. Church life, work life, school life and so on are going to be what we make of them. We can be sideliners and watch the world go by, never taking the time to make it better or we can be players. But if we decide to play we’d better expect that we will eventually get hurt. Then again, if you really love what you’re doing the hurts won’t be that painful and you’ll continue on in spite of the pain.

I never changed the way I guarded second base. I never ran around a 42” high hurdle because I was afraid of hitting my knee or toppling to cinder track. Believe it or not after I broke my collar bone I ran another play. I remember in the huddle telling Billy Don, “I think I’ve hurt my shoulder, let someone else take the ball.” And if I could go back to those days knowing what I know now, I’d still play. Why? Because I loved the games.

We have a choice. We can go through life afraid, never getting into the game, sitting on the sideline and not caring if we make a difference or not. Or we can run onto the field of play. Yes, we’re going to get injured from time to time. Someone is going to criticize us. Someone is going to get mad at us. Someone is going to treat us rudely. True, we may embarrass ourselves. Of course, we will make mistakes. And inevitably, we will probably fail many times. But if we love what we’re doing these things will only make us stronger leaving only minor scars of reminders that we can overcome what life throws at us.

I have a lump on my collar bone, two holes in the top of my head and a few knuckles with arthritis. They are all reminders, not of pain, but of the things which I enjoyed doing in my life.

October 4, 1957

It weighed a little over 183 pounds and was less than 25 inches wide. Scores of people crowded to try and get a glimpse of it. It was the most amazing thing anyone had ever seen. Nothing in the world had ever been built that could compare to the amazement of what this small object held as people anxiously jostled for a chance to see it. The pyramids were spectacular, but only a few thousand people a year made the trip to see them. The Empire State building was magnificent with a glorious view, but again the crowds were minimal to the millions that wanted to get a look at this small simple object.

It was a Friday night in October when it came to our town. In Texas Friday night is big with hundreds of football games across the state. But the buzz that night was not the game. It was what was coming to town. The big problem was that it was to arrive after the ballgame had already started. The dilemma of choice was tough, should we miss the game to see it or not? Others made plans to see it after the game was over, but it was still on their minds throughout the game. Parents were telling their children about it and it was exciting that it was coming to our town.

I remember seeing it for the first time. We actually got to see it before we headed off to the game. “There it is” someone cried out, but it was a false alarm, so we continued to wait. Then there standing in the dark someone pointed upward and shouted “Look over there!” This time it was there right before our eyes. We all stood in silence and watched as it moved across the sky, a simple white streak of light, barely visible to the naked eye. Amazing! Fantastic! Wow!

It was October 4, 1957 and its name was Sputnik, the first manmade object put into orbit around the earth. There was really nothing to it compared to what takes place today, but to that generation it was a marvel of man’s achievement. It was a mere speck in the universe that circled the earth every 98 minutes.It didn’t do much, but it started the “race for space” that eventually put men on the moon and routinely now sends men up and back again. Now there is talk of even going deeper into God’s universe.

Great events don’t always start out great, but many times begin small and grow into greatness. It’s the same with people. The great people of history did not all start out great. Men like Moses, David, Joseph, Peter, Paul and many others of the Bible were simple ordinary people that God used to do great things upon this earth. No one said look there’s Moses, but when God used him to part the sea his name went down in history. David was a simple shepherd, but when he downed Goliath people wrote songs about him. The Bible teaches us that God can do great things using the ordinary, simply because “He” is great.

We often dwell on our weaknesses. We spend time looking at how little we are instead of the great things God can do in us. Most importantly we fail to see that when we do little things for God it can quickly spread and be something great for him.

Tonight as I walk outside and look up into the sky, I will no longer see Sputnik, but I will still behold the great heavens built by God in which it took its journey.

To My Friends of 1965

Just recently one of the families in our congregation had family members involved in a terrible automobile accident. More than 50 people were at the hospital when the injured family members arrived. Others drove 60 miles to be with other family members and still others were in Ft. Worth at the hospital waiting for the arrival of others that were injured. It's times like this when you realize how great it has to have friends who love and care for you.

As I thought about it later I wondered, what is it like for people who have no friends when they need them? Did the people in the other car have scores of people waiting to support them or were they all alone? Solomon wrote "If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up."

In a time that seems so long ago, but then like only yesterday I was picked up by my friends. Many of these friends were people that I did not even know, but cared about me enough to be beside me through a dark hour. The attached video is a "God Story" that was given for our church. But it is also a friend story. It's a story of how I made it through a tough time because there were literally hundreds of people who were with me. I thank the Lord that I had so many people at the time who wanted to pick me up.

To all my friends known and unknown in 1965 I say thanks for being there.

I Started School as a First Grader

I had the fortunate opportunity to attend the same public school system for twelve years. Although most of the memories are locked up somewhere in the file cabinet of my mind there are still glimpses of the past that will pop into consciousness every so often.

I started school in the first grade, since kindergarten didn't exist in Plano in the '50s. The school was Plano Elementary School, later to be named Mendenhall Elementary. First grade started on the far west wing and you continued from grade to grade and finished the sixth grade at the far east wing. The building was only around 3-4 years old when I started so was modern for the time.

It's hard to remember much of my childhood in detail, but I do remember every teacher I had in elementary school. I can even still picture their faces in my mind. I also remember how I felt about each one. In first grade I had Mrs. Rogers. I guess this was the one teacher I remember liking the least and was glad to leave first grade. She wasn't mean and in fact was always kind to me and a lot of my classmates loved her, but I can remember distinct times that she made fun of someone, one of whom was me, and I guess this stuck in my mind and I was ready to move on.

In second grade I had a grandmotherly type teacher in Ella Page. She was one of my favorites and I remember crying when school was out and we'd have a new teacher the next year. She tried to comfort me, but I knew no one could take her place. Then came the third grade and Miss Streetman. I think this must have been her first teaching job and to the boys she was beautiful. We were nine and she was a much older 22 at the time. She'd give the boys a kiss on the cheek when they left class, a highlight of the day. She was a very kind person. I didn't get a penmanship certificate that year and cried about it (I cried a lot back then). She felt sorry for me and said she'd give me one if I'd work on my writing over the summer. That was the last one I got, the rest of teachers weren't such push overs.

In the fourth grade I moved to the east wing and Clara Wilson's class. She was probably the most fun of all the teachers I had in elementary. You guessed it, I cried when I left that class too. For the record this was the last time I cried moving to the next class. From there on out it was "let's move on". Fifth grade brought Jack Harris another new one to teaching but was fun to be around.

Next stop was the sixth grade. The one teacher you didn't want to get was Mrs. Kate Holder. We had heard the horror stories of bleeding hands and boxed ears from discipline. To those of us who were younger she was scary! We had two or three 6th grade classes so everyone wanted one of the others. The first time I walked into the room there she was, I had drawn the short straw, the dread of the 6th grade. But you know, what we fear is not always what is out there. Mrs. Holder was strict, but she was also kind and I enjoyed being in her class that year.

Children are impressionable and and the impression we leave on them can last a lifetime. I've no idea where all these people are today. Some have passed away and others I'm sure are retired somewhere out there. But in my memories the legacy of school that they left me is still there over 50 years later.

Jesus loved children. He encourages us to make a good impression on them and not lead them astray. In our children lies the future of the nation and the church, we should do everything to give a great impression that will lie forever in their hearts.

In my mind I can still walk the halls of Plano Elementary School and am thankful for the faces I see in my mind that made my six years there a joy to remember.

Question from a Seven Year Old

Friday night I answered the phone and my 7 year old niece was on the other end of the line. She then began to ask me a theological question that I had never been asked in my 40+ years of ministry. A theological question from a seven year old? Now that was something I was never expecting. In fact it's a question I'd never asked myself and have never been asked by an adult, mostly because to an adult the answer is obvious, but it was a very logical question for a seven year old to ask.

"Uncle Danny," she asked, "If the Bible says that brothers and sisters are not suppose to get married how can brothers and sisters at church get married?" You must admit that for a seven year old to come up with such a question it had to have her mind clicking on things she had heard at church and at home. However, no one knew how she came up with this particular question.

As adults many of us don't think that deep when it comes to Bible study. We rush quickly through our reading hardly pausing to take in what God's word is trying to tell us, much less asking ourselves questions about what we read. I don't know if it's an "I don't care" or just a "I never thought of that" attitude. However, most of the time the question goes unasked and often we go through life never knowing the answer.

As we study and start asking ourselves questions we'll get much more value from our time in the Word. What it does is cause us to research and seek out answers. This in turn deepens our faith. The "whys" and "how comes" are what can spark us on to delving deeper in the Words of God.

By asking questions I found out that Noah was still alive for the first 50 years of Abraham's life. Wow, just think to be able to sit at the feet of the man whose story you had heard over and over. By asking questions we learn that when we talk about Jesus bearing the cross, it's not the physical wooden cross, but the burden of sin that he truly carried for man. We learn by asking questions in our study.

A small child will ask you a thousand "whys" trying to quench his or her thirst to know. In the words of Jesus "So I say to you: Ask and it will be given unto you. Seek and you shall find. Knock and the door will be opened to you." If you never ask the question, you'll never know the lesson.

So I received a theological question from a seven year old. How do you explain it so they'll understand the answer. The simple answer is that brothers and sisters with the same grand-parents cannot marry other than it's okay. This doesn't completely answer her question, but maybe it will suffice until she turns eight.

What's Wrong with Today's Music?!

I would like to share what is wrong with the music our young people play today. The answer is as simple as, you know, "the nose on your face". It is so plain that it will make perfect common sense once I explain it below. The main issue with music today is that it is too loud and the words don't make any sense. When you compare music to today to that of the past it is obvious there is a problem.

Where are the days when you could sit down and hear a love song about your girl "Boney Maroney" who's as skinny as a stick of macaroni or your girl named "Rama-lama-lama, lama-lama-ding-dong" who means everything to you?

You remember when music really asked the hard questions like "Who put the bomp in the bomp-bah-bomp-bah-bomp? or know that what sets our hearts aglow is the "boogity, boogity, boogity, shoo" and how it happens every time my baby and I dance to the "dip da dip da dip"?

Oh and what deep meaning when we hear that "a-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom" as we "Tutti Fruitti" or "Wooley Bully". Yes and how life could be a dream "sh-boom sh-boom ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da sh-boom" with my baby "beep bop a lula" in the red blue jeans.

And when we didn't know what to say to our girl the doctor coached us with "Oooo eee oooo ah ah ting tang walla walla bing bang, Oooo eee oooo ah ah ting tang walla walla bang bang" knowing "hoop dee doo, hoop de doo" when we heard a Polka our troubles were through.

Generations are different. We all have our likes and dislikes. Granted I don't like the songs with off color or suggestive lyrics. Then again as a teen I remember having "Louie Louie" and "House of the Rising Sun" banned from our school dances.

In order for generations to get along and solve our problems it's important that we try to understand each other. No generation is any better than any other. We all have something to offer. The older generations need to listen to the younger and the younger needs to listen to the older. It's a two way street to a better world.

Now I'll still have a button on my XM radio for the 50's music and one for the 60's, but I expect that half-time at the super bowl will be music for a much younger generation. You know what? That's okay. It's okay to be different with different likes and dislikes. It's okay if you like blue and I like maroon. It's okay if you like chocolate and I like vanilla. It's okay if I wear a tie to church and you don't It's okay to be different.

The main thing is that we learn to respect each other for who we are and "hot diggity dog diggity" and "tweedlee dee" we'll be able to "ba-bah-ba-ba-bah, ba-ba-bah-bah-bah" in harmony.