Two Updates

So I've been back in North Carolina for a little while, and I have two updates. Well, three really. 1 Timothy is a pretty tough book to tackle, first of all. I mean, it sets those guidelines for a Godly overseer, bishop, or pastor in chapter 3, which is something for which all men should strive. The second chapter has that controversial bit about women being saved through childbirth, and then I'm on the fourth chapter, which starts off with the part about apostasy. I feel very much like I'm in the later times, fighting off false prophets and those falling away from the faith. The last part of the chapter, though, is what particularly hit me this morning:

"¹²Let no one look down on your youthfulness, but rather in speech, conduct, love, faith and purity, show yourself an example of those who believe.

¹³Until I come, give attention to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation and teaching.

¹⁴Do not neglect the spiritual gift within you, which was bestowed on you through ^AH)">prophetic utterance with the laying on of hands by the presbytery.

¹⁵Take pains with these things; be absorbed in them, so that your progress will be evident to all.

¹⁶Pay close attention to yourself and to your teaching; persevere in these things, for as you do this you will ensure salvation both for yourself and for those who hear you."

We used to talk about the twelfth verse quite a bit back when I was in the youth group at my old church. We'd always get pumped up and come screaming into the sanctuary about five minutes before "big church" (the service of corporate worship and preaching, usually following Sunday School), demanding to be heard by our elders, pointing to this very verse. But I am reading this with very different eyes today. I've been thinking about evangelism lately, and what the church's and my individual roles are in the American culture at present. Verse fifteen is particularly striking. Go ahead and read it again. I'm not so sure that I always am careful to "take pains" in Paul's instructions. I am more apt to serve my leftovers to God than to take pains to see that I am progressing in example, so others salvation will be ensured. That's a pretty weighty task overall. I'm still pondering these things, but I have other updates to which we must attend.

Bessie is still in the shop. They've got her completely taken apart, and it seems that the solution to the problem will be a bit cheaper than we originally thought. I still don't know exactly what happened to ol' Bess', but she still won't be ready for awhile. Poor Bessie, she just can't catch a break. Hopefully by the time mid-June rolls around, I'll be able to drive her back to her home here in North Carolina. She's just been aching to lie out beneath those Carolina blue skies.

Then came the third update. I visited the Woodhams. Yes, tis true, and I bring good news: I am still alive, and I had a good time. Shocking to some, perhaps, but much expected by those who know these Ohioans to be gracious hosts. We certainly had some adventures. As is necessary for most of my adventures, we got lost at one point. Now, don't let anyone tell you otherwise--we wandered off the trail, were separated from the rest of our party, and could not tell you exactly where we were in the metro park. My friends, if that is not the definition of lost, well, then I would question your language skills.

The evenings were always filled with the comforts and nutrition of home-cooked meals as we ate together around the table (which, by the way, is not entirely foreign to me; I have experienced this phenomenal gathering of humans, myself included, at our annual festivals celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas). I wasn't exactly sure what to do; we weren't going around the table talking turkey or opening presents, so I just kind of winged it. I think I did okay overall. Nobody stared at me (at least, for more than 30 seconds or so), so I assume that I didn't go too much against tradition.

I've always wondered what it would be like to have sisters. I don't really wonder what it would be like anymore.

I've also wondered what it would be like to have another brother, and what it would be like to take these familial friends to kick back a couple of pops (cokes) while blistering our tongues with hot wings (traditional or boneless, your choice), followed by renting violent, er, rather, action-packed! movies that still contained the security device which we, being men (of course), had to destroy with our hands and weapons in an all-out, car magazine-reading, smooth jazz-listening hour of masculinity. I no longer wonder what this would be like, too.

All in all, what a wonderful time I had. In fact, I really can't wait to go back. First, however, I have to make a trip to Dollywood with a friend. :-) Then we can go back. That's a lot of information, and I am tired of typing. Happy Memorial Day!