Badgered and beaten back to the blog

“When are you going to update your blog?”

“Expect the next edition immediately following the Lord’s return!”

“No, really! Get busy and write something.”

“SOMETHING! Satisfied?”

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Why the hesitation to write? Frankly, I am enjoying myself. That is a preacher’s blog no-no. Ministers traditionally must write of grave conflicts they face or the vast numbers of lost who, upon hearing the preacher preach toss themselves into the saving waters of baptism. Our conflicts are few and minor – to swap the ladies room for the men’s or not? There was a baptism on New Years Eve, but I had little to do with it other than hand delivering the buckets of water necessary to fill the baptistery to immerse our new brother.

Earlier this week, a non-Christian asked THE question: What do you do the rest of the week since you only work Sundays? Great question! The following is a fair example of one day taken from the “rest of the week.”

Sandy rises early, usually between 5 and 5:30. She makes the coffee and I pour myself down the stairs and usually but not always manage to pour a cup into my sleepy mouth. We share breakfast, pray for those for whom we are concerned, check the e-mail, deal with any emergencies, and take Ajax on his morning constitutional. On the village green we meet with others of like interest – God and dogs. We chat for a while return home and I begin working.

“Working? Doing what?”

Letters, sermons, lessons and some days Bible studies.

“Is that it?”

“Is that it? Are you kidding?” (You, see! This is exactly why I have hesitated updating the blog. I just knew someone would come up with thoughtless questions like this.)

We also volunteer at the community center setting up and taking down tables and chairs for the handicapped elderly who meet regularly to fellowship. We go around the village chatting people up and looking for opportunities.

“What do you do for fun?”

“Preach and teach.”

“No, really, what do you do for pleasure?”

“No, really! Preaching and teaching are pleasures.”

The Brandon fellowship of saints is an “E” ticket to a wonderfully fulfilling spiritual ride. Among our number are saints from Africa, Philippines, America, Ireland, Scotland, the Caribbean, England and even Texas. We are learning from one another and growing ever closer to each other in Christ.

Sandy and I have been known to travel a little, attend an auction or two (or 10 or 11), visit used book stores and let no tea room pass unattended. Walks and bike rides are part of every week. See, there’s no drama to validate our service here. It’s all about continuity, one day after another of gentle service in the name of our Lord.

I have four paws and a maw!

Greetings! If the title was not a sufficient clue then know that I, Ajax, am the author of this edition of the blog. (By the way, for the uninitiated my name has absolutely nothing to do with cleanser. Think of Odyssey, Troy and all that.) My two “children,” Sandy and Phil are both jet lagged and too enraptured to be in one another’s company again to write. So the task falls to yours truly.

As for me, the two flights to England were a breeze. My airborne accommodations were surprisingly roomy and pleasant. That was not true for my bipedal children. Their seats were crowded, noisy and unpleasant. My male biped, Phil, believes the airlines specifically hire the same 400 pound man to take the seat in front of him for the sole purpose of immediately dropping the seat upon Phil’s ancient knees. My female biped, Sandy, accuses Phil of hyperbole. Whether he is exaggerating or not I am thrilled to have my own uncrowded flight through the crowded skies.

At last we are at home in England. My sincere thanks (a large wet lick to the face via the net) to all who have made this move possible through your prayers, your encouragements and your support. England is wonderful! The temperature is perfect (for Border Collies). I can run about the fields all the day through with no thought given to the heat. What fun! The single drawback is that the Brandon church of Christ does not have as many little sheeple as does the Pearl Harbor congregation. I particularly miss the challenge of herding all those young ones.

Another big wet lick of gratitude goes to Larry, Ann, Kenny and Michelle Brabham for housing us during our Texas stay. Their generosity in sharing company, time, space and food is a testimony to their understanding of Christian hospitality.

Of course, the high point of our Texas stay was to reunite with the grand lady of the Brabham clan, Sandy’s 93 year old mother, Modene. She remains feisty and active. Her primary concessions to age have been to grudgingly give up driving and reduce the number of cattle in her herd. Otherwise she is unchanged. Of course, we got along very well, indeed. (On the other hand, cows are HUGE and HUGELY STINKY. Give me sheep or sheeple!)

So many people and so many events filled our Texas stay that to recount them all would take volumes and too much time to type. Besides my paws are tired! (Remember, key boards are species specific and are not designed for us K-9’s. It would be nice if dogs had opposed thumbs. But then it would be nice if humans had tails.) Cheerio, then! My tired paws are taking me to the food bowl to feed my maw!

Loading Up

Saturday morning, 11 October, from 0800 - 1000 with help from many of the brothers/sisters here at Pearl Harbor the many items that Phil had so diligently been packing over the last two months were loaded into a container for shipping to our future home in Brandon, UK. Thank God that there were no injuries, all the things were packed in with very few difficulties. Our thanks go to all those who were able to help and all those who helped with their prayers. God bless you all!

Now that the container is packed and ready for pickup on Monday (13 Oct) we can take care of the remainder of items on our agenda prior to leaving our home here in Honolulu and begin the trek to our new home in Brandon. We have a couple of last appointments: health certificate for Ajax, dental appointment for Sandy, notary appointment, one last Aloha Sunday ect. Thursday evening we three should be boarding our flight to begin a new adventure and we ask for your prayers.

We have been so blessed in the relationships that God has provided for us here. It will be very difficult to leave so many of our family. We are comforted in the knowledge that God will provide for our family here as he always does - and look forward to being amazed by His mercy and goodness in all our lives.

YMKTB, Friends, Locks . . .

Delta Airlines kindly returned this old and lonely traveler to his lovely and highly missed Sandy. Georgia, Alabama, Tennessee and Georgia again suffered my presence. Why visit those venues? Alabama was the sweet home for the union of Brandon Harris and Lacey Fry. They gifted me with the opportunity to participate in their wedding. And what a wedding it was – absolutely beautiful. Indeed, the couple and the families were moved to tears of joy. It was that grand an occasion.

No small part of the joy was reuniting with former members of the Pearl Harbor congregation. The McCoy’s, Courtney Swain (who had wonderful news to share), the Hardy’s, the Gibson’s, Rebecca Carter and her daughter Emily, the Fry’s and of course, the Harris family. It was a union reunion!

Sunday it was on to Tennessee. There Bob and Joann Taylor kindly and bravely put up with me for an extended stay (or so it surely seemed to them). The alleged purpose of the visit was to sort through the contents of our storage room to send worthy items to Georgia for sale. Problem: I did not have a key to the storage room. A greater problem: The storage company irresponsibly sold a highly technical and effective lock to a technically incompetent and ineffective soul – me. The lock defied our bolt cutters. The manager called in her manager and they made no greater headway. So their maintenance and lock wizard was called up from Atlanta. On Thursday the lock was cut and Bob and I sorted madly through the “treasures.” The next morning and after a stressful search we located a truck, loaded it and I was on my way to Frank and Ercy Deal’s peachy Georgia home.

Fay, the hurricane, provided the in transit entertainment as its winds rattled the large, lightly loaded and kite-like truck and its frightened driver. God blessed me with a safe journey and I arrived in Peach Tree City in timely fashion. A blessed group of volunteers quickly unloaded the truck. Frank Deal, an airline pilot and perhaps the world’s most thoughtful heart was not present. Ercy, her wonderful mother-in-law, Ida, and Ercy’s two daughters provided me with a warm welcome. The two Miss Deal’s are a delight.

In Tennessee God blessed me with the honor of gathering with several of the families who participated in the oversight of our Philippine mission effort. Far too much time has past since we last gathered together. The prayers were heartfelt and sprinkled with tears. It was an amazing gift to be among these dear saints.

Perhaps the highlight of highlights was a lunch spent with John and Nancy Mitchell. There have been times when the Mitchells served the Terrys as the shield of last resort. They have always been there for us and shared with us the encouragement of their remarkable faith. John is having a tough struggle bouncing back from a kidney transplant. At the same time Nancy is caring for her mom. She has a double dose of rough duty and yet she conducts herself with admirable grace. What a lady! Please take this splendid couple before the throne of our Father often and with passion.

And now for a crass commercial message: As Sandy highlighted in her last blog entry we are moving to serve the congregation in Brandon, England. If you desire to read more about this effort please visit philsandyterry.org. Paying homage to full disclosure, our move is a bit of a mission effort and the website does contain an “opportunity” to assist us.

We're moving?

Yes, I know. The fact of moving should come as no surprise to me. But the fact is, I've been in denial and have diligently avoided all details of the impending detachment from what has become home. Well, I can no longer deny the reality - items are starting to disappear from closets, cubbyholes, shelves while the stack of boxes in the aforesaid closets, cubbyholes and etc are beginning to - well, stack up!

I've also noticed, very observant person that I am, that two rooms have veritably disappeared from view under a deluge of open boxes, bins, stuff to pack, and other related minutia. How did all this happen outside my line-of-sight? It's a mystery! Or perhaps it has something to do with the state (or country) of denial in which I've been living.

Blindness no longer seems to be an option. The moving stuff has moved into the living room. Right in my sight every single time I walk into or through that room. There is crate in the middle of the room. How can I believably NOT NOTICE that? It's impossible!

So, yes. We are moving - mid-October is the target date for our actual departure from Hawaii. Although I will dearly miss friends, family, tropical weather and many other aspects of living here, England is beckoning with friends, family, non-tropical weather and many adventures. Thank God for his blessings, even in the midst of the disarray. We ask for your prayers for safe travels.

Shane Came Back

On May 1st I went into surgery. So did Shane. Mine was scheduled and his was not. Shane and his Sergeant, John, were hit by an RPG. Obviously, the two were not in Hawaii. Both were very badly wounded. Both were evacuated to Germany. John’s family joined him for the flight back to the States. The sergeant's family lost their precious son between there and here.

Shane’s 22 year old wife Hazel, the mother of three little ones, flew with her youngest to Washington D.C. and the Walter Reed Hospital. Her first trip was to visit a mostly unconscious young soul housed in a much battered and broken body. She was with him all day and every day. Tough duty for a young lady not that many years removed from a comfortable adolescence. Hazel returned to Hawaii to spend time with her other children. The report came that Shane was in crises – pneumonia and a blood infection. The prognosis did not lend itself to hope. That was June 10th or so.

A few days ago, the doctors cut me loose to do all the silly things I love to do. Today Shane is being prepped for outpatient status. A member of the Pearl Harbor congregation and a soldier awaiting his third deployment to Iraq just visited us. He was thrilled to have read the e-mail reporting Shane’s recovery. In the course of our discussion Aaron offered a salient observation, “Why are we surprised when our prayers are answered?” He’s so right! Two weeks ago this congregation met for the sole purpose of praying for Shane and other wounded members of this congregation. I know for a fact that members of this congregation have been praying individually long and hard for Shane. Unlike politicians and preachers, prayers work.

That being the case, please pray for Shane and Hazel. The road to full rehabilitation is several years long. This young man and his younger wife are worthy of our very best prayer efforts as well as all of our appreciation.

Dodging Bullets

The details are irrelevant. It is sufficient to know that my dear Sandy was referred to a surgeon. The initial consultation suggested three potentials were on the table. The first and best alternative was to observe and see how circumstances progress. The second was a bit more invasive and requires modest surgery. The last and most fearful was a complete reconstruction. Which would it be? Prayers went up and then the verdict was handed down. Options one and two are viable. At this time the dreaded number three is not even a prospect.

During the same time period Sandy took a break from work to hike to Cold Stone for a little you know what. Her office parking lot is attached to another parking lot and a mall by a narrow bridge. It was this that Sandy traversed to and from ice cream heaven. As she re-entered her office she heard the sound of a crash. Such sounds are not uncommon and she thought nothing of it. Then she noticed a group of people in her building looking out upon the bridge and parking lot she had just traversed. She stepped out of her office and joined the crowd. There was a body lying in the parking lot not 150 feet from her office and within a few feet of her route from the mall. The deceased was a car thief who attempted to escape by wildly speeding across the bridge and crashing into several police cars and a civilian’s van. The thief would not stop crashing his vehicle into the other vehicles. Thus, a few feet from my one and only the bullets flew and the thief’s life ended in a parking lot and not far from Sandy.

My dear wife takes all this in stride. Her husband of almost 31 years is less phlegmatic and extremely grateful to continue to revel in her delightful company. Keep dodging them bullets, honey.