DAD'S SPAGHETTI BIB

One of the most vivid memories of my early childhood was frequently going to the neighborhood Italian restaurant to eat dinner with my parents.  I remember the red checkered tablecloths, the mini jukeboxes in each booth playing an endless selection of favorite songs, and the wonderful aroma of the Italian sauces cooking. 

My Dad would most often order their specialty, spaghetti and meatballs.  When they would bring his plate to the table they would generously add the parmesan cheese and then they would do something that I always found amusing…they would tie an oversized white bib around his neck.  I would usually order a club sandwich, so no bib for me, but I thoroughly enjoyed watching my Dad, wearing that huge bib, eat his large order of spaghetti and meatballs.

The bib, of course, was to keep the rich red sauce from splattering on his crisp, white shirt as he ate.  As a child, the idea of the bib was humorous to me because I associated bibs with babies.  Babies, who could care less about stains, are bibbed to keep their clothing clean while they are eating.  We want our clothing to be clean and unspotted; therefore we often take steps to prevent stains.

James 1 is filled with so many lessons…it is hard to take them all in.  For the most part, they are not easily implemented lessons.  Joy in trials, asking in faith, fading riches, enduring temptation, stopping sin, avoiding wrath, planting the Word, looking honestly at ourselves, and bridling our tongue are the main ideas James touches on. 

He ends this chapter with the very last verse giving us the key to “pure and undefiled religion.”  It may sound simple, but really it is huge.  “Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble (easy enough!), and to KEEP ONESELF UNSPOTTED FROM THE WORLD.”  Wow… “unspotted from the world”??  We live in the world, we walk in the world, and we work and go to school in the world…how can we keep ourselves from the world?

How often have you been eating out at a restaurant in nice clothing and gotten a spot on your shirt?  What do you immediately do?  Dab it with your ice water, excuse yourself and go to the restroom and try to remove the spot before it sets.  When you get home, if any of it is left, you take further steps to remove the residue.  All for one little spot!  The idea is to remove it quickly and immediately.   

There is a key to keeping ourselves “unspotted from the world” in both the spaghetti bib and the spot removal process.   If we take preparations beforehand to cover ourselves, much like the bib, with God’s Word and protect ourselves from the temptations that come our way, we are much less likely to become “spotted” by sin.  However, as hard as we try, we are human and we will sin.  If we are diligent in removing each small individual spot of sin as it comes into our lives we are much more likely to “remain unspotted.” 

Sometimes though we may find ourselves in a position where the “spotting” from the world is so large that it seems impossible to correct.  In times like this we may just give in to Satan and feel that we are “ruined,” that there is no use in overcoming our sin because it is so large it will be impossible to rid our lives of it.  This is truly a lie of Satan.  While it is possible for our clothing to become so stained that it is unsalvageable, our lives, covered in sin, never are! 

Christ’s blood, which we come in contact with through our baptism and obedience to His Word, is always cleansing us from sin.  “If we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His son cleanses us from all sin.  If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:7-9.  Though we cannot live unspotted, sinless lives, we can always be cleansed from our sins through Jesus Christ.

The “pure and undefiled religion” that James points us towards is attainable with God’s grace and our diligence.  Cover yourself with the “bib” of God’s Word, work daily to remove the “spots” that overtake you, and pray often to see your distractions to stop them before they become the stains of sin.  Know that "spots" of sin will get past any "bib" you may try to wear...but that God's grace and Christ's blood are always working to help you "keep yourself unspotted"! 

Roberta Pledge 11/16/11

1/2 DOZEN PRINCES, A PRINCESS, AND AN ANSWERED PRAYER

About a year ago we began praying every week in our three year old Bible class for a very special person.  Jack, living at that time in China, was to be soon adopted by Bria’s family and she would not let a Sunday go by without our class praying for him.  If I forgot to mention him, she would quietly whisper his name during the prayer to remind me, or she would say afterwards, “You forgot Jack!” to which I would quickly add a P.S. to our prayer.  Bria would also make an extra take-home for him each time we made anything and if she drew a picture of her family, he was always included.  Bria was a constant reminder in the “accept they become as little children” statement of Christ…she believed in prayer and that God would absolutely, without a doubt, send this brother to live with her family.

Though Bria has now moved up to the four year old class, this past Sunday morning was a very special day for us.  Jack was in our Bible class for the very first time!  How precious it was to have the answer to our prayers sitting with us and to watch him try to sing along with songs he didn’t understand the words to.  He sat quietly the whole time and it was truly hard to keep my eyes off him as I taught, knowing he was with us only through love, prayer, and the Hand of God.  Jack has the blessing of three big sisters and a loving family that will always try to steer him in the direction of God.  And we are all blest to see an answered prayer walking in our midst.

Our class is very simple and repetitive.  We work hard to simply teach these young children that the Bible is the Word of God and the true value of that fact.  We also learn that prayer is talking to God and that God loves for us to talk to Him.  We are very close to being able to sing the books of the Old Testament and, with Laney’s example, the boys are starting to all bring their Bibles to class.  I have started showing them words like “Old Testament” and “Genesis” in their own Bibles and they will now say, “show me the words in my Bible!”  My only goal with this very young group is to teach them to love God’s Word, to love to talk with Him in prayer, and to learn some simple Bible stories that make God "real" to them.  After all...isn't that all any of us need to know, believe, and understand.  They, at age three, are all learning these lessons well!

The blessings of this single hour each week are limitless…we laugh, learn, listen, talk, pray, play, and most of all love during our hour together.  They say we now have seventeen babies in our twelve month and under class…seventeen!  How wonderful it will be to have seventeen three year olds when our time comes!  I don’t know quite how we will manage, but am so thrilled at the idea of having so many children to teach and love.  God has blessed our Great Oaks church family so richly…may He be glorified in all that we do!

Roberta Pledge

11/9/11

NEVER TAKE A NORMAL DAY FOR GRANTED

Sometimes your thoughts are wrapped around death...as my extended family surround my last dear uncle, Waldon Gwinn, in his final hours, I'm reminded of the passing of my Dad over 26 years ago.  Time passes, but love only grows...won't Heaven be Glorious!! rp 11/4/11 

The sunny morning in the middle of August started out as a normal day.  There was a slight breeze blowing as I put my six month old baby girl in the stroller.  Donuts sounded good and from our house we could follow the aroma through our neighborhood to the small shop around the corner.  Mason, Tramp and I walked pushing Monica in the stroller up to the donut shop as our day began.  Back home we settled into a typical summer day, consisting of playtime, naps, lunch, laundry, and all the other things that make up a normal day.

I don’t remember all the details, but I’m sure Mason and the neighborhood boys spent a great deal of time watching Granddaddy.  He was in our backyard building a new playhouse.  It was getting close to completion and with each passing day they were all anticipating the day it would be finished and they would able to move in.  There was a gully in our back yard that was of little use, so my Dad thought it would be an ideal spot for a playhouse.  He had built it up on stilts, four post set off the ground about four feet high.  On top of the posts he built a 6’ x 8’ platform, which served as the floor of the playhouse.  There was a narrow bridge leading from the level back yard spanning the gully to the porch of the playhouse.  The bottom portion was framing and plywood and the upper portion was screened in.  The roof even had real shingles and there was a miniature screen door to close it off from the flies and mosquitoes.   I really don’t know who was more excited about it, Dad or Mason!  

Mason and I divided our time between watching Granddaddy, playing with Baby Monica, and spending time across the street with Grandmother.  She had a swing between her carport and patio where she and Mason would sit on summer afternoons and play a game guessing what color car would pass down the street next.  She had recently fallen out of that swing and was nursing a fractured pelvic bone, so we would go over to help her or keep her company. 

The morning passed into noon and Dad went home for lunch.  We ate lunch and then settled down for naps.  After lunch Dad returned to work on the playhouse and after his nap Mason went over to visit with Grandmother.  We had been to Dyersburg the weekend before and had brought back a sack of peaches off of Auntie’s peach tree.  They had black spots on their skin, but were very tasty and so I decided to make a cobbler for supper.  I was in the kitchen talking on the phone and cutting up peaches at the kitchen sink.  I always enjoyed standing at my kitchen sink and looking out onto my deck and tree-filled back yard as I washed dishes or prepared meals.  As I hung up the phone and returned to my peaches I noticed something strange out my kitchen window.  Dad was lying on the ground by the playhouse.  He was an insulin dependent diabetic and I immediately thought his sugar had gotten low and he had passed out, so I ran to help. 

That is when my normal day stopped.  Completely stopped.  Stopped dead in its tracks. It turned into one of those days, those few days in your life that you wish you could walk backwards away from instead of forwards into.  One of those few day that you remember the rest of your life and reflect on every detail over and over again until it is embedded in your memory until you have no memory.    Running out into the back yard I remember getting closer and closer and thinking that I could not see my Dad breathing.  I remember my neighbors coming to help and someone saying they had called 911 and Mark.  I remember that somehow my four-year-old Mason was suddenly there and I remember telling him over and over, “Pray, Pray hard for Granddaddy!”  I remember running down the street to somehow make the ambulance get there faster and standing in the middle of the street and feeling like ripping my clothes, trying to breathe and not to scream--and praying and praying and praying.  When the paramedics arrived, I remember them frantically working with my Dad and then following as they transported him to the hospital.  At the hospital, more praying, praying and then the moment when someone came out and told us the news we were somewhat expecting.  He was gone. 

My Dad who had been there for me my entire life was gone.  My Dad who at my birth had scrunched down in the hospital waiting room every time they came out and announce, “It’s a boy for…” and would brighten up every time they would say, “It’s a girl for…” until it was finally a girl for him.  My Dad who wanted me named after him and was completely satisfied having me as an only child.  My Dad, who decided to stop smoking, and was baptized when I was born, and taught me how to ride a bike.  My Dad who taught me how to drive a car, going backwards over and over again down a dusty country road.  My Dad who took such good care of my Mom with all of her health issues and spoiled her rotten.  My Dad who watched his diet and exercised every day.  My Dad who I layed carpet with and hung wall paper with, who had built my kitchen table I ate off of and even the television, cabinet and all, that my children watched every day.  My Dad who completely adored my children and would come over and rock Monica any time I need him to so that I could get a shower.  How could life go on without this wonderful man I called my Dad?

As I write this, the events of that day took place was over twenty years ago.  Life, of course, did go on, and on.  And since then there have been many other heart stopping, gut wrenching, not-normal days in my life.  And when I reflect on these days it makes me so very grateful for “normal days”.  The days we often take for granted.  The days we often wish away for the better days around the corner and don’t take the time to cherish them for what they are.  Many times I pray, “God, please let this be a normal day, a day I can praise you and see magic in the ordinary gifts that You give me.”  Gifts like the sunrise, time spent with my children, good food, my husband’s smile, visiting my Mom at the nursing home, calling Aunt Ruth or a friend, telling someone how good God is, and on and on and on.  Sometimes even extra-special days, like birthdays or vacation days, fail to meet up to our expectations.  Help us to always realize that normal days are the best days.  The Bible teaches us to say, “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.”   So take any given day when you laugh a little, cry a little, work a little, play a little, eat a little, sleep a little, read a little, pray a little, walk a little, talk a little, and add it all together for a beautiful gift from God above.  Never underestimate the extraordinary blessing of a normal day!

Roberta Pledge

4/20/06