12/09/08 From the DOD:
I have really been enjoying our Monday lunch time Advent Study. It’s called The Scriptures Sing of Christmas and it is by J. Ellsworth Kalas. He admits he wrote this book out of two lifelong prejudices. The first is toward Christmas and the second toward music. In the first lesson we focused on “Mary’s Song” (The Magnificat, Luke 1:46-55). The second was “Concert in a Field” (the shepherds and the angels, Luke 2:8-14). This past Monday, we studied a story I was not familiar with. It was “An Old Man Sings” (Simeon with the infant Jesus in the Temple, Luke 2:25-35). We touched on some very interesting points in this story and I’d like to share one of Kalas’ insights. He reminded us that believing is easier for you and me. We’ve had a lot of time to see the wonder of Christmas at work and have heard many stories about the lives that have been changed as a result of this unique event on which we base the structure of our calendar. “And we have that subtle advantage of mystical and theological detachment, so that we’re untroubled by the obvious humanness of a little baby. But Simeon looked at a baby who to all apparent evidence was like any other baby, and at parents who differed from other parents only in that they were less prepossessing than most. Looking at the ordinary, Simeon saw the extraordinary; observing the obvious, he saw the miraculous. Thomas Carlyle once said that the degree of vision that dwells in a person is the correct measure of that person. By Carlyle’s measure, Simeon was a giant among us humans.” Times are uncertain right now. People of the world are experiencing a palpable sense of despair. But you know what? We are not of the world. We are of Christ. The back wall of our sanctuary is not lined with banners that read: Sorrow, Animosity, Fear, and Chaos. They read: Joy, Love, Hope, and Peace. As Christians and Disciples of Christ we are called to be a part of the solution. My prayer for you and for me is that we be filled with the vision of Simeon. May you be filled with the joy, love, hope, and peace of Christ who is our salvation, Rachel “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word: For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.” Luke 2:29-32 (King James Version)

My sister, Sylvia, passed away in an automobile accident during my senior year of high school in October of 1983. In that moment her family’s lives were changed dramatically. She was survived by her husband, John, her 15 year old son, John Gordon, her 7 year old daughter, Myra, and her 5 year old son, Clinton. Sylvia was the glue of our family. She was like a mother to me when I was a child. She had graduated from high school when I was born and according to my mother, Sylvia would “wag” me around town and people thought I belonged to her. When my mother abruptly left my father the summer before I started 2nd grade, it was Sylvia who saw that we had a place to stay and helped my mom find a job. She saw to it that I had school supplies, clothes, and transportation. She made sure that I got to participate in activities, like softball, baton lessons, band, etc. Most importantly, she cared for my emotional and spiritual well-being. Since my mother worked most Sundays, Sylvia saw to it that I was at church every time the door was open. She was a dedicated Christian who tried to live as Christ-like as humanly possible. Her husband often called her “Esther”. Not because of the Esther of the Old Testament, but the Esther from the TV show Sanford and Son. Her death was dramatic for me. Almost 8 years ago her youngest child, Clinton, got married to a beautiful girl named Vida. Clinton was living with me at the time they were planning their wedding. Clinton does not really remember his mother, but has acknowledged the void created by her absence. His father who passed away last year, had never remarried. One day, Clinton and I were talking about his upcoming wedding. I mentioned learning of a practice where a rose was left in the place reserved for the mother of the bride or groom if the mother was deceased. He said he would consider this. The day of the wedding arrived. It was a beautiful, cold fall day. The handsome groomsmen were seating the guests. I was waiting to be seated when Clinton walked up in front of my groomsman and took my arm and led me to the seat beside his father. There was no rose there. He sat me there. I was moved beyond words. And I will never ever forget it. This past weekend, my daughter, Lydia had a dance recital. This year’s recital included a father/daughter dance. Even though Lydia and Mary’s father is not directly involved in their lives, they have a wonderful godfather, Kevin Butler. Kevin graciously agreed to dance with Lydia and took her to several practices for this special performance. A couple of weeks before the recital, Kevin sustained a torn calf muscle and was barely able to walk, much less do a dance that involved a lot of lifting of a 6 year old girl. Lydia was in need of a father for the dance. Kevin kindly offered his assistance in teaching the steps to someone else. He would meet with him, attend the rehearsal with him, and bring him to his home to practice some more so that Lydia could dance this dance. This past Saturday night, sitting in the audience of my daughter’s recital, I glowed with maternal love and pride as I watched a handsome, wonderful, special man dance my beautiful daughter around the stage. I bet Sylvia smiled too. Thanks, Clinton. I love you. Peace of Christ to each of you as we strive to be Christ’s family, Rachel

06/03/08 From the DOD published in Scottsboro CP Church Spire

From the DOD - Acolytes

Sunday was an important Sunday for the Cook girls. It was the first time that Mary and Lydia were Acolytes. They were very excited about this rite of passage. I was very nervous about it. I let them practice one afternoon at the church but without the flame. I think the fire aspect of their participation was what I was most nervous about. (Speaking of which; I’d like to apologize again to the lady who sat in front of us at the last candle lighting service we had. My child did not mean to cauterize your hair.) As they were preparing for a practice walk down the aisle I went to seat myself on the front pew. I heard Lydia giggling and turned around just in time to see Mary straddling the candlelighter like a horse and galloping around, waving her arms like a bronco rider. I went into a big long spiel about how the flame represents God’s presence and how they must respect the flame! Sunday finally arrived and the service was about to begin. I looked at my 2 little girls in white robes standing side by side holding the candlelighters. Art Sabia whispered to them reassuringly. I smiled at them and they smiled back. Then the prelude began. When I saw my little girls proudly walking toward the cross carrying the light of God I was taken aback by the tears that were filling my eyes. I was no longer absorbed with images of rodeo antics and smoldering vestments. Rather, my mind filled with the image of my babies being carried down this same sanctuary aisle with their little foreheads glistening from beads of the baptismal water. And I knew that if Jesus could love me even half as much as I love those 2 precious girls, then I am indeed loved. The light of our Savior shined especially brightly for me last Sunday. I hope it did and continues to do so for you this week. Peace and Love of Christ, Rachel “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” 1 John 3:1

25 Year Reunion

I just had my 25 year reunion. One of the spectators at the Homecoming parade had the courage to call me and my classmates old. It took courage because we were flinging candy and beads to people and I for one had purposefully purchased heavy candy. I loudly explained that I was 2 when I graduated in 1984. Haven’t you heard? 40 is the new 20. I told the truth, sort of. To be honest, though, I had not planned to attend anything other than the parade. I enjoy riding on the back of the truck with my friends and acting like a bunch of teenagers. I like waving to the people I know on the roadside. I like the smell of the hay. And I like throwing candy to children and at smart alecks. But I didn’t particularly want to go to the other activities. I felt that I really didn’t have anything in common with my long-gone classmates. I was still “iffy” about it until my friend, Imogene, said something at the Primetimer’s luncheon. She talked about going back home to Virginia for her high school reunion. She mentioned her disappointment that many of her classmates who had never left home did not attend the activities. They did not take into account that those who traveled far to attend had hopes of seeing all of their classmates. After Imogene said this, I knew that I should participate in more than the parade. And I am glad that I did. After 25 years we had more in common than I could have imagined. We had a deeper appreciation for the humanity of each other. In 25 years we had experienced a lot of life. I saw people with hearts wounded from divorce. I saw people struggling to raise their children without losing their minds. I saw people who were moving closer to home to care for aging parents. We reflected on the lives of our classmates who had died too young. We no longer worried what we would wear to the homecoming party. In fact, ours was a casual backyard affair at the home of 2 of our classmates who had married. 5 years ago I borrowed a shiny black outfit to wear to the big reunion party at the Country Club. This year we all wore jeans. And we really, truly talked to each other. And we really, truly listened. I am so glad I went and took the opportunity to get reacquainted with my friends. As we said back in high school: “We are the class of ’84. That says enough. We’ll say no more.” Peace and grace, Rachel “The revelation of God is whole and pulls our lives together. The signposts of God are clear and point out the right road. The life-maps of God are right, showing the way to joy. The directions of God are plain and easy on the eyes. God's reputation twenty-four-carat gold, with a lifetime guarantee. The decisions of God are accurate down to the nth degree. God's Word is better than a diamond, better than a diamond set between emeralds. You'll like it better than strawberries in spring, better than red, ripe strawberries.” Psalms 19:7-10 (The Message)

New Job at Church

A funny thing happened at church the other day… Jane left the office Monday afternoon to go home and prepare for a trip with her family for the Thanksgiving holiday. I told her as she was leaving to call me if she thought of anything she may have left undone since she would not be returning for the rest of the week. I received a call from her 2 or 3 hours later. “Rachel, I forgot to do something before I left”, she began. “There is a watering can on the bookshelf on the other side of my desk. Beside it, there is a white container of humidifier treatment. Put a cap of this in the watering can and add water to the fill line.” Then she said, “With this, you will need to water the piano,” and proceeded to explain how I was to do this. I thought to myself, “Poor Jane, she’s had to put up with us Church folks for too long and now her cheese has slid off her cracker.” Unable to convince Jane that she surely meant that I was to water the plants, I did as I was instructed. As I approached the piano with the watering can, I scanned the alter for a hidden camera. I wondered if this was some sort of initiation for new staff and made a mental note to ask John and Nora if they had fallen for the old “water the piano” prank. Low and behold, there was a plastic tube coming from underneath the piano. There was also a blinking light indicating the piano’s need to be hydrated. So I watered the piano.

As a lesson in Discipleship, I could take this true story in several different directions. As disciples we are called upon to learn new things. Or, as Disciples, we are sometimes asked to do some cockamamie things… But the piano watering task was merely one of many tasks I have observed being carried out in our Church. I’ve been impressed by the work that goes on daily, not only by the staff, but by all of you. It takes dedication and discipleship to be a church. Can goods are gathered, boxed, and delivered to people in need. Paraments are changed as needed. The sanctuary is tidied. The Church van is serviced. The grass is cut. Light bulbs are changed. Doors are replaced. And the piano is watered.

Well, to start with, I'm going to post some of the articles that I wrote for our church newsletter. I haven't had time to compose much else. But at least this way, I'll have an extra copy of them somewhere:)

Wow. This was easier than I thought. I'd been toying around with the idea of starting a blog and now I have. We'll see where we go...