Vol. 17 No. 26 | June 29, 2015

One day last week I was not feeling well. Had been having some things that did not feel just right and finally decided to go get checked out. Call the doctor, got an appointment, went to see him, checked me out, made a diagnosis, prescribed meds, started taking them, all within a twenty-four hour period. What a world we live in!

While I was in the doctor’s office, after we had discussed my situation he said, “I’m going to talk to my computer for a moment.” He did. I left the office. Within a few minutes my pharmacy called and an email arrived in my box saying, “Your prescription is ready for pick-up.” What a world we live in!

Driving home one day my daughter and granddaughter called wanting to FaceTime with me. I pulled over into a shaded spot in a parking lot and for the next thirty minutes or so, I could see and hear them, they could see and hear me. We shared things that are going on in our respective worlds and I could see and hear my granddaughter as she told me all kinds of things that she understood completely. Twenty minutes later I received a call from my son on my cell phone as he walked through the streets of his city and I drove through the streets of mine. Less than half of an hour later after I had gotten my daughter-in-law and other granddaughter called to FaceTime with me. For thirty minutes or so I watched and listened to them, and they to me as we again shared the details of our day and week. What a world we live in!

My wife came home the other night with a little disc in a red plastic container. I took the disc put it in a machine, changed a few settings on out television and we watched a movie right there in living room while we were eating dinner. If we wanted to pause it, we did. If we missed a line we hit rewind and listened again. What a world we live in!
While I was sitting in a waiting room instead of picking up one of the outdated magazines on the table next to me I opened up this device I had in my hands and began to read news stories, messages, jot down a few thoughts in my sermon notes, and read part of a chapter of a book. What a world we live in!

When last week’s big news stories broke, within seconds the social media sites were exploding (so I am told) with the opinions of anyone and everyone who chose to share one. The opinion could be a popular one or it could be one that produced annoyance, irritation, and anger. The posts could be intelligent, respectful, and thoughtful comments, or they could be worded so as to express the ignorance and hate of the individual expressing them. I am sure there were, and are, plenty of both. Discussions began. Arguments erupted. Battle lines were drawn. All were free to speak their mind, voice their opinion, and declare their convictions. What a world we live in!

On Sunday morning I drove to our church building, gathered with believers in the God who created us all, we sang songs of praise, we offered prayers to the Living God, we opened His Word and studied from it, and encouraged one another to go out into the world and share His message. There were no barriers. There were no restrictions (other than what we placed on ourselves). We worshipped freely and openly. What a world we live in!

Tom

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2015. Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved.

Vol. 17 No. 25 | June 22, 2015

Disclaimer: I do not speak Duck or Robin. I have not studied the Duck culture (please do not report me to the Duck Dynasty), and I have never gone undercover (perhaps under-feather would be more appropriate) to watch and learn the ways of Robins. Nor have consulted an Ornithologist to check the accuracy of what I am about to present. I am just an ordinary guy who recently saw a one-legged duck and later that same day took notice of three Robins in a rose garden.
The one-legged duck (actually it was a one-and-a-half-legged duck) was on the fringe. It did not appear that the other ducks were being unkind or keeping their distance, it simply appeared that this duck felt more comfortable on the fringes. When on the ground the one-and-a-half-legged duck kept some distance between him (not sure if it was him or a her) and the other birds. When he wobbled into the water again he seemed to keep a safe distance as he paddled with his one leg.
Now shifting got the rose garden with the three robins, the atmosphere was quite different. These three robins came together — one from the fence, the other two from other locations in the garden — and shared a worm. They all took a nibble or two then returned to their place. One enjoyed the rest of the worm while perched atop the fence, the other two went back to search for more. After a search they came together again to share their findings, chat a bit then flew away.
I noticed that the three robins seems happy. The three robins seemed concerned about each other. The three robins seemed to be helping one another. The three robins seemed to enjoy being one another.
As I pondered these interesting creatures I was reminded of interactions I have observed within our spiritual communities.
Is there a one-and-a-half-legged duck in your church? You know them. Or, at least you have seen them. They come in late. That find a seat in an area where few people sit. During time of fellowship they leave early, or they keep to themselves. The only interactions are those initiated by someone else. He is not opposed to the connections, he probably would not be resistance to more in depth conversation, and even developing a relationship. He will not resist it but he will never be able to make the first move because he has been injured. You cannot see his injury because it is on the inside.
The robins are a different kind of church. They are friendly, loving, caring, and devoted to one another. If one has a need, all others rally to provide that need. If one struggles then all struggle. If one rejoices they all rejoices. Joy abounds within the community
The challenge here is for you, and your church, to look beyond the injury that has crippled the one-and-a-half-legged duck. The challenge is love him as he is, injured, broken, and weak. It will be up to you to approach him, welcome him, show him you can trust him, and become a safe place for him, when he is ready and willing, to reveal his injury to you. The reward for you, and for the body, will be when the one-and-a-half-legged duck is restored to become a vibrant and resourceful member of his new found family.
Whether yours is a community of robins or you are a one-and-a-half-legged duck, there is a place for you to use your gifts and abilities to serve others and bring glory to God. The challenge here is for you to be who God has created you to be, and to become.

Tom

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2015. Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved.

Vol. 17 No. 23 | June 8, 2015

Norma Lee Taylor (November 18, 1926 – June 2, 2015)

Every now and then something happens that as it is happening you realize that because of it your life will never be the same. That was the case at a few minutes before 11:00 last Tuesday night when we got the call that Nana (my wife’s mother) had taken her last breath. Prayers were answered as she peacefully and quietly took a couple of breaths and went home to be with the Lord.

In those moments your mind our minds filled with memories and swirled with details. We knew it was coming. We had prepared for it. She knew it was coming so she had made preparations that would lessen our burden. There Were people to call. We would need to finalize the arrangements. We would need to discuss schedules and travel plans. We knew it was coming, but still we were frozen in disbelief.

Grief is often described as a wave in the ocean. It comes out of nowhere when you least expect it and knocks you for a loops. You recover the best you can, get your bearings, steady yourself, then suddenly another wave hits you from behind and takes you down. That certainly describes the experience of the last ten months as our family and friends walked with Nana, and with each other, through declining health and eventual death. As we hold on tho the memories to encourage and comfort us we will periodically be swept away by other waves of sadness and loss. We will also be refreshed and restored by memories of joy and laughter and a life lived long and well.

In the sprays that followed we shared memories of Nana’s strength and determination. We recalled occasions when because of her sheer determination to make life better she worked hard, she provided food, she offered financial assistance, she made phone calls, she served on boards, she offered advice, she asked questions. She could really ask questions. And, if she did not hear the answer she wanted, she would often ask it again, and again, and again. Even if you repeatedly gave the same “I don’t know” answer she assumed you would surely know the answer if she would still ask it one more time..

We remembered times when she helped her husband achieve his career goals.  We reminded each other of how when he was sick she stepped up and did whatever she needed to do to get him help, get him where he needed to be, and stayed with him until the issue was resolved. We recounted how she stayed with him to very end, relentless in her efforts to make sure he was cared for and provided for as he should be.

Her children shared how Nana had provided for them through her love, her words, her written notes, her financial assistance, her direct eye-to-eye confrontations. They shared stories of how she stepped in when there was no one else to step in. We heard stories of how she cared for her own mother, making sure the received the best care available to her, and again how she was with her to the very end.

We read hand-written notes where she stated the guidelines for her long-term care: how she wanted to spend her last days, where she wanted to spend them, and how they were to be paid for. Nana was a woman who knew what she wanted and was not afraid to let it be known. She was a woman who had definite feelings of what she expected from you. If you failed to fulfill those expectations, she was not afraid to let you know.

Grandchildren told of conversations on growing up, marriage, politics, trips they had taken together, and times when she had reminded them that there is a right way to live and that the right way was what assumed you would want as we. We remembered how she had encouraged all of us to do our best, to carry our own weight, and exert whatever effort necessary to make sure we reached or exceeded our potential.

Nana supported causes and people she believed in. When a need seemed insurmountable or too big to handle, she found a way, or manufactured one. She was a faithful wife and a devoted mother. She was loving grandmother, great-grandmother, church member, neighbor, and friend.

As the wife,of a university professors wife for almost fifty years, Nana displayed her extensive wisdom and strength with dignity, and grace. She finished her life in the same manner. Lingering longer than anyone expected or could predict, she spend her last days in the place she wanted,  in the manner she wanted, and with the people she wanted.

For almost forty-two years I have been the recipient of her unconditional and unreserved love. I could not have ever imagined a better mother-in-law. Through the years we talked about the trivial things of life, and we talked about some of the most serious things. She encouraged me as a preacher, as husband, as a father, as a grandfather, as a writer, as a christian man, and she always considered me to be a much better person than I could ever possibly be. She loved me, and I loved her. I will miss her. All who knew her will miss her.

Paul’s words describe Nana’s current status very well. “For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” (2 Timothy 4:6-8, NIV)

Thank you, Nana for loving us and letting us know and love you. I hope that in your new dwelling place you have finally had that conversation with my mother that you’ve always wanted to have.

Tom

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2015. Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved.

Vol. 17 No. 22 | June 1, 2015

One of the recurring tasks of life seems to be finding the balance in holding on and letting go.

When you drop off your child for their first day of school parents struggle with finding the balance between letting go and holding on. You experience the same struggle when they transition from elementary school to middle school, and from middle school to high school.

When a parent watches their son walk across a stage to receive their diploma they are smiling on the outside, but on the inside they are trying to find the balance between holding on and letting go. So is their son.

When a mother gets her child settled into their first dorm room or apartment she struggles with the finding the balance between letting go and holding on.

When a father walks his daughter down the aisle he rehearses his response to the question: “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” Even when he manages to verbalize the words in his heart he is struggling to find the balance between letting go and holding on. So is she.

When a couple reaches a mutual decision that it is time for their relationship to end a major part of their struggle is to find the balance between letting go and holding on. They believe it is the right decision, but what if it is not.

It is not long after the birth of a child that parents are forced to come to terms with the struggle to find the balance between letting go and holding on. We call the parents who struggle to let go “helicopter” parents. We call the parents who let go too much neglectful.
As we experience the aging process where we are forced to accept that we cannot do all the things we once did we struggle with finding the balance between letting go and holding on. As we watch life slowly drain from the body of a loved one we struggle with finding the balance between letting go and holding on.

Although he spoke with confidence and determination, one has to wonder if Paul did not also struggle a bit with finding the balance between letting go and holding on, when he wrote: “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:12-14, NIV)

There is a balance. Holding on seems natural. Holding on often seems to the right thing to do. At the same time letting go may feel cold and indifferent and wrong. There is a balance between letting go and holding on. May you have wisdom, patience, and peace as you search for that balance.

Tom

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2015. Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved.