07.04.08

Dawn of a New Era

Posted in Random Musings at 8:34 am

Hey, everyone!

Dawna and I are sitting outside under the awning, watching a beautiful
new day unfold. It’s July 4th, and with apologies to our friends across
the pond in England, today celebrates the 232nd birthday of the USA.
I made eleven trips out of the the country last year alone, as well as
many more through the years; I’m well aware of the anti-USA rhetoric
in many countries. It’s not new, and, I suppose, tied to some degree
to the fact that we’re the world’s last remaining superpower, for now,
at least. But, I always pause on this holiday to give thanks that I live
in this great country. We may have gotten our start in rebellion, just
as another grand country - Australia - began as a penal colony. The
passing of decades tends to blur much of our beginnings, after all. I
appreciate this country for a multitude of reasons. Here are a few:

In the last century, we finally entered two wars “to end all war”. Our
brave men and women went to fight in lands far away. Many died on
foreign soil, and their remains are buried there. Many of the parents
of those soldiers never got to see their graves. I know (or knew) a
few of those parents, and their sacrifice was enormous. Our nation
hadn’t been attacked, but our allies had been. Stable democracies
and monarchies were being threatened, and the US went to help in
their preservation. And frankly, regardless of personal animosities, I
think that’s one of the things that characterizes my nation’s history.
I respect that. We’ve gone abroad to help nations remain nations
that today, claim to despise us. We send billions of taxpayer’s dol-
lars each year to nations that consider us enemies. We do so from a
position of knowing that regardless of whatever we send, those who
receive the funds won’t change their opinion of us. We also “loan”
untold sums to countries around the world, and continue to do so
despite the fact that supposedly only two have ever bothered to
repay the loans. We stand united in our support of Israel. And yet,
when our nation was attacked on 9/11, and we’ve finally fought
our own battles in Iraq and Afghanistan, the world claims to hate
us, and our current President. Honestly, I don’t understand it for
a moment. But, it doesn’t bother me very much…very little that
we’ve tried has worked anyway, as regards world opinion. Today,
I give thanks for my country. God has blessed us richly, and no
matter where my travels have taken me, I’m always happy - and
proud - to come back home.

On a personal level, God has also blessed me in Dawna, in ways
that are too numerous for an essay like this. Alan Jr. has moved
back home, at least for the summer. When Devin’s lease runs out
at the end of this month, he’ll also be moving home. Shannon is
at the house most days when she’s finished work, and to watch
my kids interacting with Dawna is amazing to me. She’s already
filling our lives with amazing love, humor, wisdom, and grace. She
impresses everyone wherever we travel, and it’s just no wonder.

We purchased a pre-owned motor coach for our travels. When I
finish this blog, I’ll put a link at the bottom to show you a photo
of it. For you who RV, it’s a Fleetwood Discovery, 38′ long. Built
on a Freightliner XL chassis, it has a rear Cummins diesel engine
and a 6-speed Allison World transmission. Yes, diesel fuel isn’t
exactly cheap these days, but that enabled us to buy the coach
for a whole lot less than we’d have been able to, had diesel fuel
been as reasonable as it was two years ago. We’re averaging
all of 10.6 mpg with it in the first 2500 miles of travel. Folks who
know say that’s wonderful for a coach that weighs over 13 tons.
Having almost every comfort of home as we travel is a real joy.
We won’t take it on every trip, of course, but we did the math;
and with airline travel also rising dramatically in cost, buying two
tickets is often a lot more expensive than driving this rig. It is a
dawn of a new era for us, and we’re really loving it.

Life is good again. So good. So many of you prayed this for me,
as so many of Dawna’s friends prayed the same for her. We both
thank you - more than words can express. We’re together at a
magnificent RV campground in North Carolina, overlooking a lake
with geese and ducks. Soon I’ll head back inside and turn on the
satellite TV and catch up on some news. We’re relaxing, and just
loving being together in our little home away from home.

To all of our fellow Americans, Happy Independence Day. My hope
is that all of us who are Christians - in every country - pause this
day to give thanks to our God for our ultimate independence, born
of enormous pain, when our Savior purchased our eternal redemp-
tion on Golgotha. My dear friend Neil Enloe said it best, in his song
The Statue of Liberty. This song garnered him two Dove awards.

In New York harbor, stands a lady,
With her torch raised to the sky.
And all who see her, know she stands for
Liberty for you and me.

I’m so proud to be called an American.
To be named with the brave and the free.
I will honor the flag and our trust in God,
And the Statue of Liberty.

On lonely Golgotha, stood a cross,
With my Lord raised to the sky.
And all who kneel there live forever,
As all the saved can testify.

I’m so glad to be called a Christian!
To be named with the ransomed and whole.
As the statue liberates the citizen,
So the cross liberates the soul.

Yes the cross is my statue of liberty.
It was there that my soul was set free.
Unashamed I’ll proclaim that old rugged cross
Is my statue of liberty!

Blessings, my friends…

Alan and Dawna

Our “New” Coach

06.06.08

Happy Days Are Here Again!

Posted in Random Musings at 11:40 am

Hey, everyone!

I’m writing this from hot, steamy Texas. We’re back from our wedding,
which was on a beautiful cruise ship, and our honeymoon cruise. All of
it is a bit of a blur still, but I wanted to thank you for your prayers, and
for all of your e-mails and phone calls of congratulations. We appreciated
every single one of them, and the cards.

My brother Lin performed the ceremony, and Dawna and I have both told
him that not a single word could have been improved on. There were a
few tears, and some laughter, and we both still can hardly believe that
we’re “here”. God is so good. The cruise was fantastic, and I think the
kids will be talking about it for a long time to come. We had only one day
of rain, in Grand Cayman, that interfered a bit with our shore plans; but
it sure didn’t ruin the day.

Our plans are still incomplete, but we’re planning to leave here for SC in
a week or so. We’ll be driving our big diesel motor coach home; a trip that
just two years ago, would have cost about a quarter of what it will now.
Traveling these days has just about become painful, but there isn’t a lot
that we can do about it!

Here’s a picture of Dawna and me from our first shipboard dinner. Again,
all I can say is that God is just so, so good….In Dawna, He has given me
a gift that I can’t describe. She’s everything that I thought, and every-
thing that I ever dreamed of, and a whole lot more. I can’t wait for you
all to meet her!

I’ll be back in touch here once we’re in Myrtle Beach, and trust that this
finds you well, happy, and enjoying a good and safe summer!

Blessings…

Alan

Mr. and Mrs. Alan Parks

02.28.08

Some News

Posted in Random Musings at 8:53 am

Alan and Dawna

My dear friends,

It’s with a really happy heart that I announce that I’m engaged to be married!
A great friendship with a Texas beauty led to a whole lot more as last year
unfolded, and by early Fall, I began to realize that I didn’t want to continue
life without her in it. Over the holidays, I asked her if she would marry me, and
to my wonderful surprise and delight, she said yes!

Her name is Dawna Dickens, and she has come in to our lives, winning us with
her always-happy disposition, her incredible capacity to love, an infectious wit,
and her very real spirituality. Dawna’s the type of girl who wakes up happy,
lives that way through the day, and says goodnight with a happy smile. It’s
so wonderful to be in love again, to be loved, and so happy again. Dawna’s
husband was a fair bit older than she was, and died in his sleep after many
years of heart disease. She has two wonderful sons, 20 and 24, and they’re
already my sons too. My family has welcomed her, and love her…I thought
I’d never see Shannon so happy again, and to hear her call Dawna “Mom” is
an amazing thing.

We plan to be married on May 25th in TX, and will make our home base here
in Myrtle Beach. For now, we’ll continue to keep Dawna’s home in TX, as her
sons and her parents are there. Her parents are older, and rely heavily on
her. They’re so happy for us, but scared for themselves, as they need her
so much. We’re hoping that we’ll be able - or at least Dawna will be able -
to fly back to her home one week per month.

This August 15th will mark 40 years since the first time that my brother Lin
and I stood in front of a large crowd, sang, and received compensation for
it. Hard to believe. I write that, to say that I’m very used to “life in the fish-
bowl”, but it’s all new to Dawna. She’s gladly entering a whole new arena,
and I feel very protective of her. Dawna will be traveling with me on most
of my trips, possibly almost all of them, and when you meet her, you will
notice her warmth and people skills…I’m in awe of how amazingly well she
meets people. Everywhere we’ve been, she just wows the folks. Please
make sure that when we’re in your area together, you come up and say
hello to her, will you? I’m so anxious for her to meet all of my friends!

Many of you have told me that this is an answer to your prayers. I can’t
tell you just how humbling this is, that you would be praying for this, when
I couldn’t dare to. Thank you, my dear friends…

A couple of picture links are below, so you can view the beautiful lady who
has filled our lives so wonderfully. When the picture comes up, click on it to
make each one of them somewhat larger.

Blessings,

Alan
alandawna2.jpg

alan-and-dawna.jpg

12.23.07

Two Days Before….

Posted in Random Musings at 6:27 pm

I started writing this on Friday, sitting in the New Orleans airport, en route from
Houston to home. But, as usually happens, I didn’t finish it. And so here it is, the
Sunday before Christmas. A busy, but nice day is winding down, and it’s time to
wish everyone a blessed and Merry Christmas.

Despite all of the commercialism, this is still my favorite time of year. I didn’t get
into the decorating mood this year for some reason, but then, I wouldn’t have
been here to see them much anyway! This year, I’ve been thinking a lot about
Mary, the mother of our Lord.

We don’t worship her, of course, nor do we venerate her to the level that some
have. After all, she recognized her own need of a Savior (Luke 1:47) If she knew
that people prayed to her today, I’m confident that she’d be aghast at such a
thought. So no - we don’t worship her, but we sure must honor her.

Chances are that Mary was very young when the angelic messenger gave her
news that would rock her little world. She might have been as young as 14….
Imagine how you’d feel at being told that God had chosen you - a virgin girl -
to carry, and deliver, His only begotten Son. To be unmarried and pregnant
in her day was a desperate scandal. She and her betrothed husband, Joseph,
had to flee to an unknown land, right at the time she needed the love and
support of her family the most. This was no light task that God had asked
her to do. But the God Who had watched her, knew her; He knew her piety
and her purity. And yet, read Luke 1:38 - Mary showed obedience in her
Identification as God’s handmaiden. She showed it in her obedience to the
desire of almighty God - “So be it…” And, she showed obedience despite
the solitude forced on her, as the angel, after leaving the message with her,
departed. This was no ordinary young girl, this Mary. But that shouldn’t be
any surprise to us. God wouldn’t have chosen any ordinary girl, would He?

Mary’s song, or Magnificat, found in Luke 1:46-55 is a lesson in maturity at
a young age. Wisdom beyond years. To read it is to be left in awe. I think
it would be a good series of lessons for us, to read this section again.

But, what has hit me the hardest this Christmas season, has been the story
of godly Simeon, as the little family came to him on Temple Mount. A man
whose life had been lived to see the Messiah, got his wish, and actually
held God in his arms. Did he truly realize that while he was holding that
eternal baby, the baby was actually holding him? In Luke 2:34-35, Simeon
addressed Mary, ending with unusual words: “Yes, a sword will pierce through
your own soul also”. This was a prescient prophesy, without doubt.

Imagine raising the perfect child in your home. I’ve often thought that it
must have been hard to have been one of Jesus’ brothers, or even his
sister. How many times do you think Mary or Joseph must have said to
their other children “Why can’t you be more like your brother?!” Imagine
a child who never went through the “terrible two’s”, adolescent rebellion,
who never needed correcting, never talked back. The perfect child, the
perfect son. When it appears that Joseph died, Jesus would have taken
over the carpentry shop, and was the principal provider for the family.
No doubt, He was a grand worker and provider. Those would be heart
strings hard to cut, but the day came when Mary had to cut them. It
had to be a soul-piercing. So would it have been when she watched her
Son begin His ministry, only to be largely rejected. I’ve thought a lot
this week, of His last week…a triumphant entry to Jerusalem, for the
One whose face had been set for the events there like a flint. And yet,
within days, betrayal, rejection, a mock trial, a rabble crowd crying
“Away with this man - we will not have this man to reign over us.”
(But oh - He will, one day. He will) Every event of His last week, a
sword to the heart. But God wasn’t nearly finished yet.

We all know that Mary had to have waited through that last night,
heart shattered, for the first sight of her eternal Son, when he was
released from the soldiers’ cruelty. How must it have been for her,
when she first saw Him, her unrecognizable Son? Battered, bruised,
beaten unmercifully, wearing a man’s spittle, beard torn out. A crown
of thorns, a scourged back. I’m already writing in tears, but God was
not done yet….

How many mothers have to witness their Son’s execution? No matter
how many times that promised sword had pierced her soul already, it
was time now to turn the hilt. And so, He was led out to Golgotha;
considered not just a common criminal, but the worst of three who
would die that day…the one on the center cross, “Jesus of Nazareth,
The King of the Jews”. Mary had to hear the hammer’s blow, and the
thud of a tree trunk as it seated in its socket. For three hours, she
listened to the taunts, the mockeries, and had to stand in desperate
wonder, how anyone could say such things about her perfect son.

And then, for three last hours, the Light of the World was covered
in a darkness blacker than any midnight. I have much that I want to
learn from Mary in Heaven one day, and if I ever get the chance to
ask her but one question it will be this: “Mary, as the darkness came,
did you inch your way to the cross? Did you stand underneath Him,
and did you ever reach up to touch his nailed feet? Did you ever
whisper softly up to Him ‘I’m still here, Son’?” How could a mother
ever reconcile sinless perfection being made sin? Did God give her
a little window into eternity, to allow her to see all of the sons that
one day He’d bring to glory through His vicarious sacrifice? I wonder.
She heard His selfless cries, and the interchange between her Son
and a dying thief. Did it help to ease her pain? I think about these
things so often. We do know this - she heard His triumphant cry,
and with a mother’s intuition, she probably knew the instant that
her Son dismissed His spirit. The sword had done its damage, and
couldn’t hurt her anymore than this. Her Son…born to die. And
now, He was dead. To quote the hymn writer, “Say while lost in
holy wonder; why oh Lord, such love to me. Even me.”

Had Mary’s story ended there, ours would have never begun. But,
as He’d prophesied so often, He arose. Hallelujah!! Mary got to see
and hold her grown baby Son again, to see the wounds of the nails,
and to hear His eternal voice. The last time we read of her, in Acts
1:14, she’s in an upper room in Jerusalem, with the disciples - and
her formerly unbelieving younger sons - as they meet for prayer.
Her Son was ascended, and like us today, she - and we - await
that moment of final triumph and victory.

A long journey from girlhood, and a manger. A long time since the
angels proclaimed “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace,
goodwill to men.

In two days, we’ll celebrate again the birth of God’s Son. The One
Who was born to die, that we might live. His birth was solitary and
in the most humble of surroundings. His life was one of relative
obscurity. His three years of ministry changed the course of human
existence. His death was one of ignominy and shame. But His resur-
rection was a thing of eternal triumph. So will His coming be to the
air. And this year, even before 2008 rolls around, we might be in His
very presence! Maranatha!

From my family to yours, Merry Christmas….

Alan

11.18.07

A Request….

Posted in Random Musings at 7:58 pm

My post on Thanksgiving was easy to write, actually. This won’t be
as easy. And here’s why…

If you go back and read a post called “Catching Up” from August,
you’ll be introduced to an amazing work that takes place every July
in Newcastle, Northern Ireland, known as the Northfield Bible Weeks.
When I was there this July, I was at the 21st annual convening of
the most effective Gospel campaign that I know of.

Northfield is the vision - primarily - of one of my dearest friends on
earth, Austen Alexander. He would be the first to tell you that he’s
only been one of a team, and this is true. I take nothing from the
yeoman efforts of the men who share Austen’s vision, as well as their
wives and families. Their individual and collective rewards are the talk
of Heaven. Their vision, put into reality over 21 years of desperately
hard work, have caused a great number of angelic eruptions, as they
burst into song over so many who found the Lord under that huge
tent roof, or after hearing the Gospel there.

Austen’s wife Heather needs our prayers just now, and in a massive
way. As well, Austen needs our prayers, as does their son Neil and his
most lovely wife Sara. Neil and Sara had to say goodbye to an infant
son last summer, and will soon be blessed with the birth of a new baby.
Austen and Heather’s daughter Esther, as well as Alan - her fiance -
will need your prayers, as will Jemma…their youngest spitfire of a very
amazing daughter. I’m asking you to please band together - everyone
who reads this - and remember this wonderful lady and her family, as
you pray. Will you do that?

Heather is undergoing chemo right now, for what seems to be a very
aggressive cancer. Their hope (and ours) is that the chemo will shrink
the tumors enough so that the surgeons can remove everything affect-
ed. Her first course of chemo left her desperately weak, and sick. I’m
pretty convinced that you have to have watched and lived with a loved
one undergoing that poison, to fully understand the havoc it wreaks…
The latest reports are that given the circumstances, she looks well,
and that their spirits are high. She’s to undergo another round of chemo
this week.

So, friends, a couple that have been hugely used by the Lord are now
in need of your prayers, and I name them again for you - Heather and
Austen Alexander, their son Neil and his wife Sara, Esther and Alan, and
Jemma. My dear, dear friends. Will you join me in storming the Throne
on their behalf?

Thank you….

Alan

Thankfulness at Thanksgiving

Posted in Random Musings at 7:15 pm

Well, too many of you have written to me, gently chiding me that it has been over
two months since I last posted anything here. I am sorry, I really am. Several
times I’ve started to write, and like now, I’m not entirely sure what to say. But,
I’m stuck in the Charlotte airport with more than a three-hour layover, I’ve
finished the book I was reading, and called those I wanted to call. So, I’m stuck,
and really tired. Another 6-flight weekend; home to Charlotte, Charlotte to
Newark, NJ; Newark to Charlotte, and then to Atlanta last night. We landed at
11:40 pm, and I walked into a room at the airport Hampton Inn at 12:45 am.
Another glamorous 19-hour day in paradise. And now, five flights down, one
more to home. This day will be easier, though…only 16 hours. And so will end
another weekend. The Lord - as He always is - has been so good to me and us
over the weekend. Safety, so far, fellowship with wonderful people, help in a lot
of meetings. This terribly busy catch-up year is winding down, and while it has
been a wonderful year, I’m glad it’s winding down, and looking forward to my
first long break in months.

Thursday, of course, is an American holiday that we call Thanksgiving Day.
I love this day. Of all the holidays, it seems less commercialized than most.
There’s no Easter bunny, no Santa Claus, no surrogate mascot that takes the
place of the reality of the day. It’s just a simple holiday set aside to be thankful.
And here’s my partial list of things that I’m so thankful for. I’m thankful above all,
to be in Christ. A child of the King of Kings. I’m thankful for the grace and mercy,
the kindness and love of the God of the universe. I’m thankful to be just one
member of the greatest family on earth; the family of God. I’m deeply thankful
for my family…Shannon and Chris, Alan and Devin. My immediate family. I’m
thankful for my only sibling, my brother Lindsay, and his wife Diane and their
family. Also for my extended family…so many of Carol’s relatives in Wisconsin,
and for my loved ones from Virginia to Ireland. Dozens of them. I am continually
thankful for friends. Some who are my dearest friends…the ones that no matter
how much time passes, we pick up where we last left off. For friends too
countless to number, who come up to me when I’m in their town, and we also
catch up on life. I have a loving thankfulness for those who I know are praying
for me, and us, every single day. I have a beautiful home, cars that work,
comfortable furniture, clothes to wear for every single situation I could imagine.
Heat in the winter, and air conditioning in the summer. Running water, indoor
plumbing. I’m extremely thankful for all of these things. We take them for
granted in North America. But I’ve made 11 trips out of the US this year, and
I’ve filled numerous passports over the years, visiting areas of the world where
these luxuries are unheard of. I do not take them for granted. I hope I never will.
I’m thankful for the protection of the authorities, and the freedom to meet with
Christians. Many of the family of God cannot say this, and I’m thankful for these
freedoms. I just ate dinner at the airport here. Frankly, it wasn’t all that delicious,
and it was definitely overpriced. But I’m full nonetheless. And in a world where
they say that 58% of the world’s population will fall asleep hungry tonight, I’m
very grateful to not be. I could taste that food. I can hear the announcements
over the P.A. system, I can smell some pork barbecue in the air where I’m sitting.
I can see the pre-Thanksgiving crowds hustling to their gates. For all of the
senses to enjoy life, I’m extremely thankful. As time passes, so will they,
perhaps. And maybe only when they’re diminished will I be as truly thankful
as I should be. But for now, I’m really grateful for them. For everything. I am
loved as I write, and I love. I am cared for, and about. And, I care in return.
I sit here aware of one pressing thing: If I’m not thankful right now, then who
has more right to be than I? Thank You, Lord, for your blessings on me. I am
entirely unworthy of them all, but You shower them on me, and us, in willing
love and gracious kindness. Thank You….

And to all, Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy the day, count your blessings, and for
a special day, be so very thankful.

Blessings…

Alan

09.13.07

He’s Still Always Faithful, All The Time

Posted in Random Musings at 9:19 pm

How nice…I’m sitting in my bedroom, Fox News Network is on, and I’m in the
place I dream of every day when I’m away. Home. It always amazes me that
God would call a man who treasures the little routines of life, and is such a
homebody, to this life. For 16 years, I averaged 268 days of each year away
from home. I wasn’t apart from my family all of that time, of course. We spent
all of our vacation times together, and when I was home, I was really home.
But still, there were a lot of times when we were separated. Maybe that’s why
I treasure the simple routines of life - going out for breakfast to my favorite little
locals hangout, drinking coffee and reading the local newspaper, watching news,
puttering around the house. Just little things that many take for granted. I never
take them for granted. I treasure them. This has been my “catch-up” year; 271
days away this year, like old times, trying to visit as many of the places that I
can, after several years of a reduced schedule. My treasured routines have been
continuously interrupted, and I feel it these days.

I’ve had a couple of real prayers in the last two years or so. One is that God will
give me back the joy of what I do; not the joy of my salvation, as I’ve always had
that. But, the joy of traveling, meeting new people, speaking and singing…all of
the things that I once had, but which frankly, had slipped away. A second prayer
has been that He will allow me to actually be happy and contended being single,
since that’s what He’s called me to be. And, He’s answered both of those
prayers. Very gradually this summer, He has. And it feels so good.

I just flew back home again this past Monday night, from a second trip to the
UK in seven weeks. It took 23 hours from when my alarm went off in Dublin on
Monday morning, until I laid down in my own bed that night. A long day, but it
was actually a happy trip home. A concert in Ballinamallard, Co. Fermanagh, N.
Ireland, went so well. My dear friends Sam and Louise Balmer had been working
their area hard, and keep trying to find outreaches that work. Estimates are
that about 1/3 of the folks who came to the concert in an elementary school,
were non-believers from that village, and that was really encouraging. I’d
flown through the night before, and my luggage hadn’t arrived; I was tired
and felt grubby wearing the same jacket and slacks that I’d flown in, but the
Lord stepped in and gave us a really good hour and a half. The next day I was
at a conference in Carryduff, outside Belfast, which I was privileged to share
with my friend Alan Gamble, from Glasgow. Alan’s a judge, who is an extremely
gifted speaker. And that was an encouraging experience. I stayed to speak in
Carryduff for the next 8 days and/or nights. I took up “Lessons From The Infant
Church”, a series from Acts. God gave enormous help and encouragement, as
well as the times that I sang. The fellowship with, and comments from, all of
the wonderful people who attended, continued the process of healing me, and
gave me enormous comfort and strength. My host in Carryduff, Jim Gilliland, has
been through an enormous life-changing experience himself over the same time
period as my struggles, and I think we were both good for each other. Well,
maybe that’s presumptuous on my part…I know that being with Jim was good
for me.

The lesson here is that whatever I’ve needed, God has provided. I needed
the joy of what I do to be restored, and God has taken me to places where
the entirety of the experiences have solidified why I do what I’ve been
called to do. I needed some encouragement, and He’s provided it overwhelm-
ingly. Having experienced too much death, I yearned for souls to find new
birth, and He has granted me the honor of being there when a nice number
have been saved. And, since I’ve struggled with the aloneness of this new
single life, God has graciously granted me acceptance and peace in it all. I’m
reminded of the lyrics in Sara Groves’ most wonderful song that I chose to
close my new CD with: “Morning by morning, I wake up to find, the power
and comfort of God’s hand in mine. Season by season, I watch Him amazed,
in awe of the mystery of His perfect ways. All I have need of, His hand will
provide; He’s always been faithful to me./ I can’t remember a trial or a pain,
He did not recycle, to bring me gain. I can’t remember a single regret, in
serving God only, and trusting His hand. All I have need of, His hand will
provide. He’s always been faithful to me./ This is my anthem, this is my song;
the theme of the stories I’ve heard for so long. God has been faithful, He will
be again. His loving compassion, it knows no end. All I have need of, His hand
will provide. He’s always been faithful to me.”

Even when we don’t see it, feel it, or acknowledge it, His loving hand is
always there…ever guiding, protecting, comforting, shielding, and supporting
us. And then the day dawns, when everything comes into focus, and it hits
you that He has been there, all along, providing us what we needed in each
moment. When things seemed too dark to see, when we’d changed or been
changed through circumstances, He who has always been, has always been
there, the Great I Am.

He’s indeed always been faithful to me. To all of us. His compassions never
fail, and are renewed with each sunrise. Still Faithful. And all the time.

Keep moving forward - in His shadow, and in His strength.

Alan

08.13.07

Catching up…

Posted in Random Musings at 3:27 pm

Well, it has been a long time since the last posting. I apologize, but I just haven’t
had the time to write much of late.

I spent 18 wonderful days in Northern Ireland. The centerpiece of the trip was a
15 consecutive-night series of Gospel services in Newcastle. This is a unique work,
called the Northfield Bible Weeks. It was the vision of 4 men, primarily, 21 years
ago, that came to be known as “Northfield”, named after the Maine farm of D.L.
Moody, who had two weeks of Bible studies on his farm each summer. The current
Northfield campaign is multi-pronged; teams each week from around the UK and
occasionally beyond, made up of serious young people, work hard inviting people
to the tent, holding open-air services, assisting in two daily VBS services, and a
host of other activities. One of my great delights is to visit them at the house
they live in, on certain nights. We sing, either have devotions, something to eat,
and question and answer sessions. There’s an active young people’s and children’s
work as well, and after the tent service each night, many will head down to down-
town Newcastle, and hold an open-air service on “The Promenade”, singing and a
series of short Gospel messages given by gifted men. This is a beautiful walk along
the Irish Sea, where “The mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea”. Best of
all, God blessed in the salvation of a number of souls; from a boy of 5 to an older
man of 77. In the first week, a delightful girl named Jenny Armstrong accepted the
Lord, and the next week, her fiance, Tyrone Winter, was saved. God is so good. I
told them that theirs was one wedding that I’d better be invited to! This was a real
exhausting journey; lots of long days and very short nights. Every night I’d try to
download my e-mails, and respond to the most urgent ones. Two nights, I made it
to bed by 1:30 am, but most nights were 2:00 or even after 3:00 am. I think I’m
too old for this!

I wasn’t home for very long before heading up to the Ottawa Valley of Ontario, to
Galilee Bible Camp. I spoke in the evenings, sharing with the morning speaker, Jack
Baker, formerly a missionary to the Philippines. We had a super week. It was great
to renew friendships with some old friends, and meet many new people. The week
ended with a concert last Friday night after I’d spoken. Talk about a raspy voice!

I flew back last Saturday, landing at 9:30 pm, and made it home here by 10:30. I
looked through the collected mail, repacked a small bag, and was in bed by mid-
night. My alarm was a rude wakeup call at 4:00 yesterday morning, and 45 minutes
later, I was driving to Charlotte, NC for the day at Believers Bible Chapel. Again, it
was a super day, and I made it home by 11:30 last night.

Today is day one of my catchup. I’m engaged in the glamorous chores of dropping
off drycleaning, going to the bank, getting groceries, and doing laundry. Such fun!
But, I’m home…always a marvelous experience. God has been so good…a lot of
flights, many thousands of miles in a month, souls saved, and kind comments from
the people I’ve had the honor of speaking and singing to.

I hope your summer is going well, and that you’re enjoying His daily mercies…

Blessings,

Alan

06.27.07

If You Could Do It All Over Again….

Posted in Random Musings at 8:23 pm

I had a 451 mile round trip today, which took me to a place I vowed I’d never go to again. But life has this funny way of making us eat our words, doesn’t it? I drove my car for this trip, since it gets nearly twice the gas mileage that my SUV does. My car has a 6-disc CD changer, so I just grabbed one of those loaded CD boxes, and away I went.

I was headed for Durham, NC, specifically to the hospital where Carol spent more than 80 days over seven hospitalizations, and for eight surgeries. When we’d left there, ten days before she died, I made the vow…”Never again. Never again”. That changed last Sunday night.

My great friend Ron had a pretty terrible accident that night. He’s a very fortunate man, and will be fine one day, doctors are convinced. And that’s marvelous news. Ron has been there with me and for me, in some of my happiest as well as some of my darkest days. A real friend. He’s my scuba diving buddy and my Harley riding buddy too. A quiet man, who listens and watches a whole lot more than he speaks. But often when he does have something to say, it’s powerful. And now it was my turn to be there for him, and with him, when his world had turned upside down. I must admit to being fairly “tight” as I drove north this morning. It hadn’t been a good week on my end either, frankly. My “baby daughter” (even though she’s 28 and married) had a fairly bad car accident herself just the day before Ron’s, and certain complications resulted from that. Other things had contributed to the general disquiet that I’d been feeling, but now, I must come back to the cartridge of CD’s that I loaded in my car this morning.

Have you ever heard the expression “They’re playing our song”? Do you have an “our song”? Carol and I had two…one Christian, and one secular. Some time back, I’d bought a Greatest Hits CD of a pop group that was my favorite back in my college days. Listening to it brought back some amazing memories; some good, some not so good. One of the songs was “our song”, at least the secular one. That was the main reason I’d bought it…it was the first song I ever sang to Carol, accompanied by my guitar, overlooking Biscayne Bay in Miami. A long time ago. When I shuffled through the available CD’s this morning, there it was, and so I listened to it, most of the songs, anyway. People who love music seem to associate songs with events and times of life, I think. So, those old songs from the ’70s took me back in time.

And then, I got to the hospital. From memories 30 years old, to memories much more recent. So much came back, of course; the parking garage, that long walkway, the elevators, the lobby, at times feeling like I’d been there last month, and at other times, like it had been a lifetime ago. As I was leaving, I asked Ron’s wife Brenda to take the elevator with me, up to the 7th floor; specifically to the 7700 unit, where Carol had spent over 80 of her last days. We made it as far as I needed to go, to the end of “her” hallway, and just looked down it. I’m one who needs to confront things, and once I do, I can deal with them better. And then, it was time to go.

I didn’t listen to any music driving home. It was a thinking time. We’re all the
same, aren’t we? All of us can look back over times of victory, and times of
defeat. I remembered my college days and how I’d felt that life could just never
be as busy or stressful as it was in finals weeks. And five years, one mortgage,
two kids and two car payments later, college life seemed like no more than a
kindergarten picnic! And the more I thought, the more I wondered…”What would
be different, if I had the chance to live it all over again?” I’ll bet you’ve thought
the same things. At the core, thoughts like these are exercises in futility, as we
can’t ever go back. Fittingly, Gloria Gaither seemed to sum it up best: “Yester-
day’s gone and tomorrow may never come. But we have this moment, today.”
Ah…yes. Maybe it isn’t so futile after all. Maybe we can look over the past and
learn, and let life teach us in the here and now. And, if God grants us a number
of “nows”, then we can build from the past and with His help, become better in
every way. We all probably have past glories that we’d love to relive. It’s why
70 year-old men still have several “The Few, The Proud, The Marines” stickers
on their car. It serves to remind them, and others, that they were once young,
fit, trained and fearless soldiers. On the flip side, I’d think we all also have times
that we’d like to re-do. We don’t flaunt these. They’re the private, and often
haunting memories of past failures. So, here’s the question: If you could do it
all over again, what would you change? When my Dad was alone in the nursing
home, and Mom was up in Heaven, I asked Dad if he ever wished he was young
again. At first, he said No. And after some time, he said “If I could have the
wisdom and experience that I had at 50, maybe I’d like to be able to relive my
first 40 years.” Powerful, that. I thought a lot on the wisdom of those words
today. That’s how it was with my Dad. Like Ron, he often just sat and watched,
and listened. But when he spoke, he could say some memorable things.

Do you remember George Burns, the comedian/actor/singer? Something about
him intrigued me. Maybe it was that he lived to be 100, or maybe it was that
his first hit record was recorded when he was 84. He had a distinctive voice,
and I recall the first time I heard his smash hit on the radio, entitled “I Wish I
was Eighteen Again”. Some time afterwards, I saw that he was to appear on a
TV variety show, and I watched hoping that he’d sing that song. And sure
enough, I wasn’t disappointed. Out he came, a diminutive, frail little old man,
with a black tux that seemed way too big for him, those thick, round glasses,
the terrible toupee, and he sang that song. It was so poignant - his age
gave it a credibility that no 50 year-old man could ever have copied. “I’ll
never again turn the young ladies’ heads, Or go running off into the wind.
I’m three-quarters home from the start to the end, And I Wish I Was Eighteen
Again/ Oh I wish I was eighteen again, And going where I’ve never been. But
old folks, and old oaks, standing tall, just pretend; Oh I Wish I Was Eighteen
Again/ Time turns the pages, and life goes so fast; The years turn the dark
hair all gray. I talk to some young folks, but they don’t understand, The
words this old man’s got to say/ Now I wish I was eighteen again, And
going where I’ve never been. But old folks, and old oaks, standing tall,
just pretend; How I wish I was eighteen again”. Does any of this feel at
all familiar? As I drove down I-95 today, I wondered how Mr. Burns would
answer this from eternity…”If you could do it all over again, what would
be different the next time?”

I think the Apostle Paul gave us some indirect help on this. He wrote in
Philippians 3:13-14. “…But this one thing I do, forgetting those things that are
behind, and reaching forward unto the things that are before, I press toward the
mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Forgetting things
that are past…to me, this means both our successes and our failures. Some
people in later years have been stalled, basking in successes more than half a
lifetime ago. But far more of us are probably stalled from past failures. We
can’t seem to do what God has chosen to do concerning our sins and failures -
remember them no more. There they lurk, haunting us; with an enemy who
loves to bring them up and taunt us with them. And all the while, God is
blissfully unaware of them, as they’re covered by the blood of His Son. If
we had the chance, say, to again live the week leading up to this or that
failure, we’d sure do things a whole lot differently, wouldn’t we?

But, yesterday’s gone, isn’t it? And tomorrow may never come; but we
have THIS moment - right here and right now - today. And as the old
adage says, those who refuse to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

If I could start life over again, yes…much would change. I know that if on
the day Carol and I stood before God and many witnesses and said “I Do”,
I’d learned that in less than 28 years I’d have to say goodbye to her, I would
have still run down the aisle to marry her. And, there are our children. Each
of them distinct and different, yet as a trio, they’re wonderfully complimentary.
I wouldn’t want any of that to change, except to have had the luxury of Carol
and I growing old together. But some things sure would have been done
differently. I would have traveled less, spent less time when home on hobbies,
and more time with four precious people who have moved on in various ways.
I’d love to have the chance to make the right decisions this time rather than
ones I did make. And yet, all of these combine to make each of us that individual
that we are. They form us, mold us, and when God steps in, they serve to make
us better people, less judgmental, possibly more cautious, occasionally more daring.

As I was nearing home this evening, it hit me. Not a single thing in my life
caught God by surprise. All of it was part of His plan, and each success and
failure has been used to mold me, at times break me, and make me anew.
Maybe even a new and improved model. I’m not what I might have been, but
I’m not what I will be one day. Yet each of us is exactly who God knew we’d
be, we’re where He ultimately decided to place us. And our personalities -
formed through the years of what is and has been, and not what might have
been - is just how He knew we’d be. I’d still love to go back to being eighteen
again, but only to be able to relive the years with any wisdom and experience
that life has imparted to me now. You were right, Dad.

Lessons lived should become lessons learned. Failures forge stronger
foundations. So let’s all - with God’s help, say Carpe Diem! Seize the day.
THIS day. It’s really all that we have, and all that we’re promised, down
here at least.

Press on…

Alan

06.12.07

Home

Posted in Random Musings at 10:35 pm

Since my last posting, things have continued along busily. I spent four days in
Ontario; first at a men’s conference in Guelph, which was quite a neat exper-
ience. To hear hundreds of men stand and sing, accompanied by a great pianist,
was like a slice of Heaven. God gave real help. I spent the Sunday morning in
Markham, ON, and was able to visit with some good friends that I hadn’t seen in
several years. A highlight of the morning was being able to sing a duet on “My
Redeemer” with my great buddy Doug Jones, of the Watchmen Quartet. Doug
recorded that song on a solo album some years back, and he shamelessly stole
my arrangement! LOL We’ve been able to sing it together a few times. And,
twice that same day! In the afternoon, after dinner with my dear friends
Bill and Naomi Yuille, we journeyed towards the north, where Paul and Tim
Anderson met us and took me the rest of the way up to Barrie, ON. I gave a
concert that night, and the building was almost completely packed. What a
night…when my normal time of an hour and twenty minutes was up, I still had
two songs left on my schedule. So, I asked the folks if I could sing them, and
several people called out for me to go for another half hour! So, I did just that…
33 more minutes. It was just a wonderful time. Doug and Lois Jones and their
daughter Karen, came up for the concert, and so we reprised our duet on “My
Redeemer” again. Twice in a day…if we’d had the chance to do it a third time,
I think we’d finally have the kinks ironed out of it!

Last weekend I drove the whole trip, for the first time in about 6 weeks. This
was a 1019 mile roundtrip to our original commending church, New Hampshire
Avenue Gospel Chapel, in Silver Spring, MD. The honest truth is, it was good
to be able to drive again. Flying is just such a nuisance these days. I always
have to smile when I meet people who think what we do is “glamorous”! So,
I’ll let you in on a little secret - it’s not. After maybe 6 months, there ain’t
much glamorous about it, I promise. All of the road warriors out there know
exactly what I mean. But, the weekend in MD and VA was really good, and
I got home safely last evening.

Home. I guess this is no surprise to you, but “home” doesn’t mean the same to
me these days. Not by a longshot. I pulled into my driveway, and went to unlock
the door, and walked into an empty house. I do this all the time these days, and
I think I should be getting used to it. But, I haven’t. The grass was fairly long, a
thing that would never have happened several years ago. The only sound that I
heard was the a/c running. There were no kids coming to welcome me home,
and above all, no Carol. I can so perfectly picture the way she’d come to me
when I returned from a trip alone; that million-dollar smile, and eyes that told
me all that I needed to see. No, I haven’t gotten used to this. At all. I think it’s
finally sinking in…I’ll never get used to what home “means” these days. My house
is basically the same. I haven’t done that much to it, after all. It still stands
strong, every wall inside still bears the signature of the Interior Designer who
I shared it with. But, she’s missing, and my kids - none of whom are kids
anymore -have moved on with their lives. I don’t mean to whine. Please forgive
me if it’s coming across that way, will you?

Perhaps this is what we need to really refocus us on the true meaning of Home.
The old spiritual says “This world is not my home, I’m just a-passin’ through.” If
this world isn’t home, then neither are our houses “home”. Oh, they are - in the
transient, temporary sense. They provide us shelter, peace, protection, and for
many, our greatest investment. They may be small or large, fine or not, built on
large tracts of land or tiny plots. Two homes that look identical on the outside
may be so differently decorated that it’s nearly impossible to realize that they’re
the same elevation and floor plan. To us, for now, they’re home. For the Christ-
ian, however, they’re the fleeting domains of the sojourner. I’ve met older folks
who have only lived in their one home for their entire lives. And, I’ve met some
who have moved so often, that they have it down to a fine art.

The favorite song on my last CD, “I Dream of Heaven”, is probably “Homesick”.
Bart Millard, of the super Contemporary Christian group MercyMe, wrote those
poignant lyrics after his Dad died of cancer, and two other group members lost
loved ones. The chorus is powerful: “I close my eyes, and I see your face. If
home is where the heart is, then I’m out of place….” I don’t think the emotions
of home versus Home can be expressed any better.

And so it is…We’re really out of place. Some of us receive more reminders of
this than others, but this is the lesson we must learn, isn’t it? Regardless of
what our Passports say, our citizenship is in Heaven. We’re here for as long as
the Lord decides, with one overriding purpose, to be ambassadors for Him. I sat
on a flight once with the wife of a U.S. Ambassador. I asked her during the flight
if she could describe her husband’s responsibilities as an Ambassador, in just
one sentence. She was quite thoughtful for some moments, and when she
answered it, her words were so profound that I wrote them down. She said
“My husband’s responsibilities as an Ambassador are to represent the interests
of his home country, while he’s a temporary resident in another land.” Could
anyone better state what our responsibilities are?! We aren’t here permanently,
but while we are in this earthly home, we’re here to represent the interests of
our home country.

Home. Heaven. Where we’ll be with Him, and like Him, and there will never again
be goodbyes. No more walking into an empty house, no more emptiness. Never
again will we feel a sense of loss and aloneness. Those who were poor will share
a mansion with those who left one behind, and those who only wish they could
sing right now, will sound like Larry Ford up there! (Which makes me wonder how
good Larry will sound in Heaven!) This is no pipe dream, or, as some skeptics
will tell you, a crutch for the weak. No - this is a promise, from the God Whose
every promise tends to come true. “If I go away, I will come again and receive
you unto Myself; that where I am, there you may be also.”

It’s almost enough to make you happy, isn’t it?! And this is what I think, when I
walk in here after every trip these days. It’s become a mantra of sorts…”Only
for a little while”. And then, I try to sing another chorus from the last CD, the
great Dallas Holm song: “There’s more - more than we’ve ever dreamed.
There’s more - more than we’ve imagined. There’s a brand new world that lies
before us, Heaven’s Home is waiting for us, with more - More than we’ve ever
dreamed.”

So, until morning comes, and we all gather Home, be encouraged. And let’s all
keep our thoughts on Home. Home IS where the heart is.

Blessings…