Church in the Windshield 

 

The Trinity United Methodist Church

July 14, 2019

 

Russell, Kansas, is the home of the Trinity United Methodist Church. The Trinity United Methodist Church is an absolute piece of constructive art. Just a look at the structure itself says to us, “Come and Worship . . . You are welcome.” I stop for a moment and remember some of the pastors from years gone by and am surprised by the number of clergy names that I recall. Russell Trinity has been a very stable church over the years, faithful to God and a blessing to the community.

Sheron and I make our pilgrimage up the slightly curved sidewalk but before we enter the building, we observed the corner stone with a carved written message. The message and blessing is taken from:

 2 Chronicles 7:16 and contains these words: “I have chosen and sanctified this house that my name may be there forever.”

 

This 1952 blessing from God and commitment from the church has been the sustaining foundation for this church for many decades. It’s also a great reminder of what the church is really all about. Jesus implied, “I have chosen this place to bare my name forever.” What an awesome responsibility!

 

As we entered the sanctuary, we observed the worship area and saw the mighty pipe organ. Churches often favor this delightful aid of worship.  It’s not only the heavenly full resonating voluminous sounds that lift the spirit to the heavens on high, but the pipes add to the church décor as well. I not only like to hear the beautiful music emanating from the pipes but also the slight “chuff, chuff” particularly of the larger pipes as air enters their well-tuned voices of praise.

 

There were flowers on the altar in good taste of yellows, reds and brown. Each stood behind a candle of light like cherubs, protecting the word of God, holy and true.  Two cloths, adorned the altar of this holy place, each with crown and cross to remind us of the death and resurrection of a king. The altar itself reminds me of the Ark of the Covenant as identified in Exodus 25:10.

"Have them make an ark of acacia wood—two and a half cubits long, a cubit and a half wide, and a cubit and a half high.

(A cubit is approximately 18 inches)

I am always amazed how modern day furniture ties to worship of the past.

 

The Trinity Church has some of the most gorgeous stained glass windows that deliver light, color, and message. You can feel the presence of God even as you sit in the sanctuary and absorb the presence of the spirit.

These stained glass windows have such intricate detail that each one must have taken countless hours and hours to lead the pieces of each one. Art work like this can only be accomplished by using God given skills, talents, and foresight vision.

The traditional worship service gave us a lift for the day and the message was something that we needed at this point in our lives. God always has some encouragement our lives if we listen through the word, singing, praying and the pastor’s message. We give God thanks for all the pastor’s that work so hard to hear God’s word through the week so they can share God’s message on Sunday.

 

 

The Rev. Mike Ketchens is the pastor of the Trinity United Methodist Church. He is new to the Trinity church this year. He has a delightful and friendly personality, mingles well with people and is very dedicated to preaching God’s message. Certainly, our prayers are with him as he embarks on this venture in his life time journey of faith.

Pastors of all denominations receive a special calling from God to give of themselves a life of service. What is a calling from God?  It is like an inner voice that says, “Come and follow me and I will make you fishers of men.” (Matthew 4:19) Through the spirit, pastors just know that is what God wants them to do.

At the close of the service and after friendly conversation, we left the building and saw a sign worth a picture. Perhaps we could call it another “Aha” moment.

I looked at the sign and thought to myself, God has no limits. He does things in His own time, at His own speed and in His own way. None the less, when God acts, it is never too early, never too late, but always right on time . . . God’s time. So for me, the “Aha” moment was “slow down . . . be patient and God will take care of you . . . in His own time.

If you would like to visit a friendly, down to earth church that lifts up the name of God, then you will want to visit the Trinity United Methodist Church in Russell, Kansas. Worship times are 8:30 and 10:30 a.m. The church will give you a warm welcome

 

Until next time: Be patient and God will take care of you in His own time.

Ron & Sheron, drivers behind the windshield

 

Church in the Windshield

God’s Five Minute Paintings

July 5, 2019

On July 3^rd Sheron and I made our annual trek westward on old highway 56 to one of our favorite places, the “Horse Thief Reservoir.” The horse thieves are gone now and so are the horses.  Perhaps there were never any horse thieves, but there may have been horses.  It’s an awesome restful place where we find renewal of both body and soul. Horse Thief Reservoir is located about ten miles west of Jetmore where we meet our long-time friends of thirty plus years.

It’s been a wonderful three days filled with visiting, boating, fishing, fireworks and food.  The food is always great and plenty of it. In fact, it is so good that Sheron and I must have put on a few pound, at least our waist lines indicate such.

The fireworks were absolutely phenomenal this year because we got to watch them from the water. Six of us afloat in a boat, navigated to a place, close to the dam.  The ship captain shut off the engine and we bobbed, ever so gently in a sea of inky black. From time to time, the captain would start the engine and maneuver the tiny craft back into position where we could all see without looking back. Such a night it was with fireworks exploding in the air emitting an awesome brilliance of light, color and sonic booms. Straight over head, we took it all in and watched the display reflect in the water. All too soon, it seemed, the grand finale came and we headed back to shore.

Privately, I wondered how the captain knew where to navigate. There were submerged trees out there in the darkness just waiting to snag a propeller or puncture a whole in jell-coated fiber glass. I could see no buoys, no red or green lights to mark the channel, but somehow our captain knew the way. I guess it is a lot like our relationship with Jesus Christ, we can’t always see the way but we can always trust the captain.
The next day it happened, July the 5^th a little after 9:00 p.m. Sheron and I were sitting in our motorhome enjoying the last few hours before the wake-up call to go home. I peered out of the window and hollered, “Sheron, Sheron, Come quick and look at this.” Sheron looked out the window and saw God’s painting. I grabbed the camera, ran outside and began taking pictures because I knew that I had only a few short minutes to capture God’s beautiful scenic landscapes. The painting was not just a few hundred feet in the air like the fireworks; it covered the whole western sky. Sun shining behind the shelter house on the hill reminded me of a modern day capture of the stable where Jesus was born, the presence of light in a dark world.

 

When I turned around, I saw this breath-taking rainbow painted beautifully within an orange background. At first, I didn’t see it but gradually it appeared and became more prominent. Where else but in Kansas at the Horse Thief Reservoir would we experience such exquisite art work? Certainly for me, it was an “Aha” moment and I decided to leave the date and time embedded in the picture to remind me of that “Kum ba Yah.” Come by here, my Lord, Come by here. For that moment, I knew God was in this place.

A slight turn of the camera to the right, revealed a partial rainbow supported by a cluster of clouds. In less than five minutes the sky turned from various shades of orange to total darkness
as God cleared the canvas for tomorrow’s expression of paint and beauty.  I wonder how many times we miss the good things God has in store for us.

Until next time, Keep your eye on the skies and the peace of God in your hearts, less you miss something really important. God is good all the time . . . All the time, God is good!”

 Ron & Sheron, Drivers behind the windshield

 

Church in the Windshield

Good Sam Campout

June 13-17 2019

 

 

Last Minute Preparations

It’s 9:00 a.m. on Thursday June 13 and we are loading the final last minute items onto the motorhome. I have checked the coach, its fuel tanks are full, the oil levels proper and each of the six tires show a pressure of 105 pounds.  The car is in good order as well and has no mechanical issues. I press the button on the garage door opener and listen to the giant garage door creak, rattle and shake as it rises above the roof line of the coach. A turn of the switch brings the diesel to life . . . music to the ears of people who like to travel.

Within a few minutes both coach and car are parked on the street and securely hooked together for safe towing and travel. Sheron climbs aboard the coach and I ask her if she has closed and secured the house . . . “No,” she responded, “I forgot something.” As she went back to the house, I sat in the driver’s seat drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and fuming because the time was close for us to meet our camping group at exit 206. In a little while Sheron came back and once again climbed aboard announcing, “Well I guess we are ready” . . . It was then that I remembered the forgotten keys needed for this trip. Needless to say, it was a bit humbling for me to reopen the house . . . God has such a good sense of humor.

 Isaiah 26:3 King James Version (KJV)³ Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.

 It seems to me that we could save ourselves a lot of frustration if we took the finger drumming time to pray and focus on God.

 The Meeting

Before long we were on our way to exit 206 to meet our camping friends. We parked along-side of the entrance ramp close to Interstate 70 and waited.  Soon two other camping units parked behind us and we all waited for the rest of our camper friends to pass by us eastbound on interstate 70. The phone rang and a cheery voice said, “Mount up the horses, we have just passed the Dorrance exit.” We called the two camping units behind us and told them that our camping group had just passed Dorrance.  In a few minutes, the first camping unit came by and then came another . . . and another until four had come by. We all took our turn merging into the traffic. Sometimes merging into traffic with one of those big units can get a little interesting especially when both lanes have side-by-side traffic but, no problem today three units made uneventful merges.  Seven camping units were now traveling east on Interstate 70 and spread out for half or three quarters of a mile. We had ourselves a “camper’s convoy.”

 It’s rather neat to travel in a convoy . . . look ahead and as far as you can see there are campers. We like to be the last vehicle in a convoy so we can watch the full length of the convoy going up a hill in the distance and then down the hill on the other side.  It’s fun to watch the convoy travel around curves like a giant serpent slowly making its way through the marsh land. It’s fun to travel with a convoy at night and watch a live moving breathing stream of red tail lights mark the path ahead. It’s fun to travel through a large busy city at night and watch several lanes of red taillights move like the ocean tide going out to sea.

We made our way to Hutchinson uneventful until we got to plum and seventeenth-street. It’s a tight turn at its best and larger vehicles have to turn into the northbound turn lane to have enough room to make the turn.  The light changed to green in our favor and we began the maneuver just then an elderly gentleman (myself excluded) entered the turn lane from the west. For a few seconds, it looked like we were going to meet eyeball to eyeball with our headlights fortunately both vehicles were only creeping along. Each driver gave the other as much space as possible . . . we all made it . . . “life is good!”

 A Warm Welcome

Hello Kansas State Fair Grounds, we are the Heartland Good Sam’s Camping Club. We even have a sign on one of our vehicles showing that we are “legit.” A park attendant greeted us with “Welcome Heartland Good Sam; find a place to park, anywhere you want.” We all circled the wagons (campers) and began dragging hook-up plunder out of storage areas. In a little while, everyone had electricity, water and a sewer line.

We dragged out our lawn chair type camping rockers from the basement of our motorhome, slid out three slides to make the living space larger. And now we were setup to enjoy each other and the other members of our camping group . . . that is right after a nap.  Naps are good . . . long naps are better than short ones. No naps at all, make our spouses “grumpy.” Can you guess which type of nap we recommended for each other? And so, day one of our camping experience began.

Before the day was over, we had a “pot luck dinner;” or should I say “lock put dinner,” whatever. Any way, it was one of those dinners where everyone brings their specialty cooking recipes. I like to start at the dessert table and get the “good stuff” first but on this day I was cordial, friendly . . . and patient. After dinner, we all sat around and had a good time visiting. I recalled and recited a little poem (I don’t know the author) but the poem went like this:

 Thank God for dirty dishes, they have a tale to tell, while some folks go hungry, we are eating very well. With home and health and happiness, we shouldn’t want to fuss, for by this stack of evidence, God has been very good to us.

 Strataca

It was 12:45 p.m. and everybody gathered around to sort out which vehicles were going to Strataca and who was riding with whom. Strataca is a new name for the Old Hutchinson Salt Mine. We must hurry, I thought because we have a 1:30 p.m. tour scheduled.  I thought I had gotten over the finger drumming, but I guess I still have some work to do on that one. At any rate our five car parade eventually made its way across town, passed by the airport and parked in the Strataca parking lot.

We “que tips” (older white haired people wearing white tennis shoes) made our way to the Strataca lobby and waited for instructions. We observed a group of tourists waiting patiently near a door and all of them were wearing yellow helmets. Suddenly, the door opened and we were ushered into a room next to a large rugged iron elevator.  But . . . but we don’t have yellow helmets, I thought to myself . . . they have yellow helmets . . . why don’t we get yellow helmets? I soon had an answer to that question. A firm no nonsense female voice said, “Those of you that don’t have helmets take a white one off of the rack next to you; place it on your head and adjust the head band to fit.” I decided it was not in my best interest to ask why we didn’t get yellow helmets. It turned out that the lady was our safety guide for the elevator; certainly nice enough but, she knew her stuff and how to make the elevator ride a safe one. She went on to say, “Those of you who have white helmets will get to take the tour . . . and the dark ride.”  I thought to myself, life is good . . . all good. Certainly this was new twist to the scripture listed below:

 Matthew 7:20. So then, by their fruit you will recognize them. (In this case, the recognition was not by fruit but by helmets.)

Ride to the Bottom

The elevator was a double deck freight elevator with each deck having a maximum capacity of fifteen persons. A bell rang, heavy doors clanged open and fifteen of us stepped inside the upper deck. One of the fifteen was our safety person who closed the heavy metal door with a bang! The elevator shook a bit and moved up eight to ten feet. Fifteen people boarded the deck below us. We could easily hear the banging of the heavy metal doors in the elevator below us. In a few seconds the elevator gave a slight jolt and started descending to the bottom of the mine.  Ninety seconds later we were 650 feet below ground surface.

Once we reached the bottom of the mine shaft, we were ushered into a magnificent large room with walls and ceiling made entirely of salt. The pavement below us was constructed by using salt instead of sand mixed in the cement. A photographer took a group picture of the que tips reporting for duty. Sheron and I were the ones wearing the white helmets . . . Duh!

A quick look at the walls, revealed God’s handiwork, art and history. God’s signature was everywhere, His story written on every wall like graffiti written on the side of a train. Layer-upon-layer written over thousands of years, God wrote His story and signed it with His finger. Let God Write Your Story.

It was relaxing to sit on the tram for a few minutes. Before long the blocking strips were removed and the tour guide said, “Hi everybody,

welcome we are glad you are here to take a tour through the mine. Please, stay in your seat . . . don’t stand up  . . . keep your arms in and enjoy the tour.” With that, the tram lurched forward and we were on our way. It was awesome to realize that we were beneath four hundred feet of highway melt and untold tons of cattle lick.

During the course of the tour, we saw old salt handling equipment now rusted and inoperable. In its day, the equipment was dissembled and piece by piece hauled down the freight elevator; then reassembled in the mine.  This old equipment will never be returned to the surface; what goes in the mine, stays in the mine.

About mid journey, the tram stopped to let off willing workers. The workers with helmets of yellow and white determined to work through the day and part of the night, to find the treasure just perfect. I watched this motley crew dig in the salt for something new. Then I spied a box on the table it sat.  I looked in the box and found the best treasure yet. I was excited as can be; I grabbed it up and held it close to me . . . cost a dollar.

 The treasure that I found, I took home and placed under color changing LED lights and this is what I saw. These two pictures are both of the

same piece of salt. I couldn’t help but think about what Jesus said in the following scripture:

 Matthew 5:13“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

 The salt of the earth is the common folk, rich in the faith, strong in the spirit and willing to share the word.

The Dark Ride

 

A young tour guide announced over the tram sound system, “All Aboard!  Ah . . . well I guess you are aboard . . . come to think of it.” He then turned toward the tour scheduling booth and yelled, “Is this the group that I am supposed to take through next?” “Yes it is,” echoed back the reply.  We began the tour ride through the mine, around darken corners, through sometimes narrow passages and then through wide open spaces. The tram stopped, the lights went out and it was darker than standing in the middle of a pine forest on a cloudy night. I gave Sheron a squeeze and she said, “I will give just to three to stop that please . . . 99 . . . 98 . . . 97 . . . and the lights came back on.

All too soon the tour was over and the photographer took one last picture of a miner, exhausted from a hard day’s work. Again, the freight elevator doors clanged and banged before the ninety second ride back to the top.

 Once on top where the sun was hot; “que tips” made their way to their cars and journeyed back to the old camp ground. For a while, some visited, some read and some just kicked their shoes off for some “toes up time.” One thing about a que tip camp-out is that it is not too structured and free time is . . . well free time.

Evening Diner

In a little while though, campers began to emerge from their homes on wheels . . . its supper time or dinner time depending on your corner of society. For us though, eating is anytime; call it what you want. We all made our way to a nice local restaurant and the food was so good. And as for Sheron and I, we decided to call the place “The Royal Gorge.”

The Storm

It was about 10:30 p.m. when Sheron and I decided to call it a day and turn in for night. No dogs were barking; no cats yowling, no loud music playing and the park seemingly at rest. Sheron peered out the window and said, “I think I saw some lightning . . . do you think we need to pull our slides in?” I responded with “Nah, we will be fine, I am going to bed.”  Close to the middle of the night, there was more lightning; thunder, heavy rain and wind, lots of wind, strong - unrelenting wind.  Sheron said, “Honey do you think we ought to pull in the slides?” “Nah, I responded, it will soon pass over.” Just then, a gust of wind caught the awning slide cover, yanked open the retracting spring and violently-flopped the canvas. I jumped out of bed and yelled, “Bring the slides in, bring the slides in.” I pressed the button and the slides came in . . . I hate it when I’m wrong. Remember when Jesus the disciples were fearful for lives then Jesus calmed the storm?

 Matthew 8:23-26 (NIV)²³ Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. ²⁴ Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. ²⁵ The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!”²⁶ He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

After the storm, we thought, had we been in the mine, we would not have seen the lightning, would not have heard the thunder, and would not have felt the wind. Walking with God is as calming as being in the salt mine during a storm.

Commitment in an empty Water Bottle

Each Sunday morning, the “Heartland Good Sam’s” celebrate God in a worship service. This Sunday

was no exception.  Campers found a shady spot, brought their lawn chairs and prepared for the worship service.  Sometimes, they (the campers) have music, sometimes sharing but always a devotional. On this particular Sunday, each person was given a strip of paper and asked to write on it what talent or skill they would be willing to use for God in the coming year. They were then asked to put the paper strip in the empty water bottle and talk about their commitment (if they felt so inclined). Each person participated and placed their commitment in the bottle and each person chose to share their commitment. We are all a part of the body of Christ; one party with many parts.

Romans 12:4 . And although its parts are many, they all form one body. So it is with Christ

The Final Good Byes

After the church service campers prepare to break camp. Connecting hoses, cables and wires all returned to their proper storage places. Good Byes are extended and one by one the campers begin to leave; sometimes a lump comes up in our throats and maybe a tear in our eyes. We travel quietly for a while.

Until next time, Let God Write Your Story and keep the faith.

Ron & Sheron, Drivers behind the windshield