The lady in this picture is my mom’s mom (those two kids are my cousin’s.) We called her Nen; certainly one of the sweetest souls that ever walked the Earth. I sat with Nen on the front porch of her house one hot summer afternoon in that two-seat gliding porch swing you see in the picture. Nen had a big mixing bowl in front of her and her apron was full of fresh green beans from the garden.

She picked up a long green bean, broke the ends off and then broke it in half. When she broke them it sounded like dried twigs snapping. I said, “Nen, why are you breaking the beans?” And right there she taught me a lesson that I still have in my heart. It’s been more than forty years since we spent that afternoon on the porch.

Nen said, “Mikie (nobody is allowed to call me that but her) it makes them cook up better.” I asked why and she tried to explain it. She invited me to break some too, to help her out. I did a few and then I picked up a bean and tried to break the end off and it wouldn’t snap. So I tried the other end. No luck. I folded it in half, still wouldn’t break. Nen just sat and laughed at me. I was working so hard on something that was never going to change. She said, “It’s a bad bean Mikie, throw it away.”

We sometimes fail to get rid of things that should be set aside. It could be bad music, vile comedians, destructive habits and even toxic people. Not to be harsh, but sometimes we need to end relationships that are not healthy. We need to have the courage to put away those things that hinder our efforts to live good and holy lives.

In the Old Book, Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish. When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore. Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away. This is how it will be at the end of the age.” Matthew 13:47-50

Jesus taught, (and Nen did too), that the good should be separated from the bad. The bad is to be thrown away. What are the ‘bad beans’ in your life? Finding the good beans requires examination. It takes wisdom to know good from bad. It takes courage to make the choice. Be wise and brave.

telemicus out

Most people love their dad—I get that. Sometimes they forget to tell you why or they don’t have a chance. My dad is Jonathan Taylor, we call him Pop. The older I get, the more people I meet whose lives have been changed because Pop passed through their sojourn and proclaimed something of his character, the nature of God, the mission of the Kingdom and a love that he rarely spoke but felt deep within his stoic countenance. He was born in northeast Oklahoma. He worked as an iron worker by trade, preached the gospel and served several churches at God’s call. Now he drives a bus and spends his time loving my mom.

Growing up I remember his thundering voice. Scott and I have talked on occasion about wishing we had inherited that voice. But more than the tone, the message Pop conveyed to us was one that always called us higher. He challenged us to have integrity, to strive for excellence, to go the extra mile and to be noble in character. He set standards that seemed unreachable and then proved we could. I told him once that I couldn’t do something… he had me write ‘cant’ on a piece of paper and go bury it in the back yard. He told me often, “Cant is dead!”

I do not know, God knows, how many men are preaching the Gospel because of his influence. It’s a lot. Just this week a friend wrote me and expressed that he preaches because dad inspired his passion and God called him to it. Dad’s spiritual sojourn has been ahead of his peers for most of his life. He taught the active vibrant role of the Holy Spirit when most in our fellowship were still doubting it had a role at all. He focused on a working knowledge of the Bible and somehow instilled in me a love for the Bible that I do not even understand. I was a student of the Bible even as a boy. The world is different because of Pop’s ministry.

These are his hands. They’ve worked hard, served, and loved. Now they drive, lift grand-kids and ‘piddle around.’ He can be hard headed. He knows what he believes and holds to it with tenacity. But in recent years, he listens better and asks more questions. He’s gentler now and more tender. He expresses love more easily and tears come without restraint. He’s always been a softy, but didn’t show that side very often. (I recently found a picture of him in a crowd of people, he was sitting with a child pretending to talk on a toy phone—the old softy.) He’s growing as a person though he has some years on him. Don’t tell me people cant change. I’ve watched him become a different person in many ways over the years.

I cant tell you everything about him here, but this one thing I want to say. His kids love him. His friends love him and are the richer for knowing him. Pop plans to live to be 100. He has a thing he says that I adopted that goes; “Write this down wherever you write things down so you don’t forget.” Pop says this about his spiritual journey… “I don’t know everything or even most things, but I know this; I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever!” So to my dad I just want to say, “I am one of the many who have been inspired by you and I’m honored to call you Pop. Happy Father’s Day!

telemicus out

People say it so often it’s become cliché—“I’m blessed.” I’ve heard it from athletes, movies stars, casual acquaintances and friends. It’s good to say it and to recognize that God is the source of all good things. However, for myself, I don’t use the phrase often. So as I consider the remarks I’m about to share I don’t say these words without a good deal of thought. I have really great parents. But as I grew up in Kirksville, Missouri I became friends with Keith and Rick Louder. They shared their parents with me and as they grew, their younger brothers, Scott and Corey also became very good friends. I have a second family and my other mom and dad celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary last weekend. I am blessed.

Everything I know about Janet and Larry Louder I know in the context of family and church. They have both served since the time that we met with selfless devotion. I remember mom as the cook at summer camp. She prepared great food and though I was a kid, I noted that this was no typical camp grub we were consuming . . . it was pure greatness. Larry was the camp ‘gofer’ back in those days. (I think he even had a shirt that said “GOFER” on the back.) He served in every area that you can imagine. One summer my car broke down and he and Glen Browning worked on it for many hours over several days while I enjoyed being at camp. Larry is one of the sweetest, gentlest men I’ve ever known.

A few years back they purchased an old house in Greentop, Mo. and remodeled it. The finished product was beautiful. It was very much a dream house, yet they sold it and moved back to town in order to be able to serve the kids at church more effectively. Dad was an auto body repairman when we met. Mom had the guys still at home of course. Later on, Dad moved to remodeling of houses and building things. Every time I’m home he takes me out to shop and shows me what he’s working on. He just finished a project building new bunk beds for the youth camp. Mom eventually went to work for the medical college. She is now semi-retired I guess we would say. She has skills in many areas; cooking, sewing, serving big groups, saving money. She knows more tricks for fixing things than a handy man. She seems never to get frazzled.

Dad is serving the church as an elder. They are still helping in all the ways they can. I watched them mature as Christians too. They’ve learned new ideas and embraced new concepts of spiritual life that impress me as a hunger for God. They have over the years that I’ve known them, served in more ways than I can ever explain. Their example has been one of frugality, generosity, service, kindness and love. They have reproved, re-directed and nudged me in positive ways. They shared their lives and they treat my family as their own. Even my kids call mom, Grandma Janet. Caleb said she was the “coolest old person he ever met.”

The Old Books says, “Give everyone what you owe him: … if respect, then respect; if honor, then honor” (Romans 13:7). I certainly owe the Louders respect, and I wish to honor them for their service to God prompted by love and for the love and kindness to a teenage boy of whom I was one of many drawn into their lives by the exceptional people they are. I call them, my other mom and dad—and I am blessed.

telemicus out

Have you heard people excuse their mis-behavior by saying, “I come from a dysfunctional family.” It’s time to drop that excuse. I’m not a sociologist, but as I see it, dysfunction can either be constructive or destructive.

What I am calling destructive dysfunction cripples through all forms of abuse. Its perpetrators and victims are unable, or unwilling, to construct better more functional lives because they continue to ‘live the dysfunction’ without the support or resolve necessary to make healthy changes that lead to greater functionality. As a result, another generation is raised in destructive dysfunction and the cycle repeats. But by the grace of God, sometimes people reach the place where they refuse to continue that cycle. So they seek the help they need to make healthy changes, they break the cycle and begin the climb out of the grave of dysfunction.

Most of us (those reading this) were raised in constructive dysfunction. By that I mean, our families were not the picture of perfect mental and emotional health, but we worked through those things that were not ideal. This journey toward functionality—developing maturity through ministry, counseling and growth we construct better mental and emotional lives. This generally happens across the family system, meaning parents as well as children continue to develop greater functionality over time. We grow by the process and through the dysfunction.

Our other institutions function in much the same way. Churches are sometimes lead by individuals who have not matured into healthy functionality and as a result, they abuse their people and the church is dysfunctional. We are seeing more and more that churches have moved to constructive dysfunction models. These churches are thriving today.

I think America is a constructive dysfunctional country. Sure we have problems. We don’t always function in a healthy way. But we learn from mistakes. We get help when we need it. We change laws that are unfair. We clean up messes. We are sometimes too indulgent and permissive. And sometimes we fail to respond when we should. When we elect bad actors, we replace them hoping to do better. When policies get out of line with functionality, we call the congress, write letters and protest at Tea Parties.

America is a great country, not because we are flawless, but because we are a constructive dysfunctional people. Our families are great not because we do everything in the most enlightened and healthy way, but because we have learned that dysfunction is our natural state, but it is not our permanent state. Hopefully we are always learning, always growing, always maturing and becoming better, healthier people. If we as individuals move from destructive dysfunction toward healthy functionality, then our families, our churches and America herself will move that direction as well.

telemicus out

Earlier this week the family watched the show, “What would you Do?” In this edition, they had a group of college students (actors) publicly hazing fraternity pledges. In one scene, they tied a student to a light pole with plastic wrap and a passerby took out a pocketknife and cut him loose. When it appeared to be going too far, people stepped up and got involved. They repeated the bit with sorority girls and surprisingly, people did not get involved—many simply watched.

In another part of the program, they showed a young, attractive, nicely dressed woman collapse on a busy sidewalk. They ran the experiment many times and people came to her aid within five seconds every time. However, when they repeated the experiment, using what looked like a homeless man; people were far less responsive. While the actor lay on the sidewalk for almost twenty minutes, a homeless woman, powerless to do anything, asked passersby to call for help repeatedly. One man actually stopped and slipped a piece of cardboard under his head (better than walking on by I suppose.)

I heard or read a story some years ago about a child who, upon hearing the story of Mary and Joseph being turned away from the Inn in Bethlehem, said to his mother, “We would help them, wouldn’t we?” We would all like to think that, faced with situations like these; we would step up and do the right thing. A friend commented on Facebook this week that she wished John Quinones (the host of “What Would You Do?”) would come to her town and test her. In our living rooms, it’s easy to know what we would do.

We lived in some apartments many years ago and early on a Saturday morning I heard a child crying outside. I stepped out on the patio and looked down in the courtyard. Wearing only a diaper and t-shirt with no shoes, a toddler stood—lost, cold and scared. I ran down and tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t old enough to tell me anything beyond crying for his mommy.

I was afraid to pick him up. I was afraid to take him into our apartment, but I knew I had to help him. (I know it sounds like a no brainer, but we live in a time where things are complicated.) So I took him by the hand and we walked through the property. I found an apartment with the door standing open; a woman was sprawled on the couch while another baby screamed in a playpen. I knocked on the door and when she woke up, she was mad at me for having her son. I explained that I found him wondering in another section of the complex. She took the boy, scolded him and slammed the door.

We see people all the time that need our help, whether they deserve it or not. Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). We would help them, wouldn’t we?

telemicus out

My youngest daughter is getting married in two days. On one hand, it’s no big deal. She is always been a solid kid and I’m not worried at all. On the other hand, it’s a scary world and no one is ready at 20 years old for what it is going to do to them. The truth is, we can’t protect our kids from the world or life. We can only give them a solid foundation. Hope has that.

Last night Hope came in after work, I was in my office working. In our little talk, she told me everything I needed to know. She related all that had gone wrong leading up to the wedding over the past several months. The she said, “But stuff happens and you gotta go on with life—it’ll work out.”

That’s my girl!

Heath is a good man. He loves Hope and wants to make a good life with her. He has dreams and plans for his life; knows what he would like to do and is making plans to get there. We love him and look forward to his being a part of our family. We are a strange heard, but we support each other and have fun together. That’s what counts.

Hope is unique. She loves to laugh and have fun. She cracks us up all the time. We are proud of her “can do” spirit. We are proud of her commitment to remain pure for this day. Since she was little, she has decided what she wanted and then gone to get it. She is strong and has learned to be sensitive. We don’t agree on everything. Brittany said the other day, “It’s like you two look at each other and one is speaking Chinese and the other Korean.” That’s accurate, for some reason we don’t communicate well, and it frustrates both of us. Nevertheless, we love each other just the same.

One thing I know. Heath is a lucky man, because Hope makes life better for the people around her. Things work. She will enjoy much laughter and success. If the axiom is true that behind every successful man there is a good woman, then Heath has a bright future. He is marrying a great girl.

A few weeks ago, I was standing in my office and hearing someone talking outside I opened the blinds. I saw Hope and Heath standing by his car talking. It was fun to watch. They were laughing and I could see in both of their faces that this simple conversation was pure joy for both of them. Hope’s soul lights up when she is talking to Heath. I hope it always will.

telemicus out

ps. The wedding is at 1:00 P.M. Saturday March 7 at Mesquite Valley Christian Church, 1401 Clay Mathis, Mesquite, Texas 75181. Everyone is welcome.

In the 2001 remake of Planet of the Apes, there is a surly character named Limbo. He is sort of a slave trader dealing in humans. While making a sale of a human child he issues one of the most memorable lines from the film…

“The young ones make great pets. Just make sure you kill them before they mature. Believe me, the last thing you want is a human teenager running around your house.”

In earlier times, teens were really kids forced into adulthood by life. However, with prosperity came time and “disposable income” (what a ridiculous phrase). With income came stuff and well… you know, here we are. Dude! I am not one of those who is down on the youth and their culture—totally.

Teens drive the social fabric and economic engine of our country. They determine what clothes are in style. They direct the music industry, (I’m not altogether pleased about that.) They have a verbal language of their own. And now they “TEXT” in an augmented English that resembles a sort of code—(imo). [For the uninformed or un-cool “imo” means “in my opinion” – unless you’re talking about the people that are "Imo" and that is a different thing altogether.] As in every decade since any can remember, teens determine what is cool.

Well, for the third time, in a third decade we have a teenager living at our house. He is like most of them. He likes food, likes stuff, likes rock n’ roll, likes the opposite sex, likes clutter, likes video games, and I’m good with all of that. But the thing I like most about having teenagers is where mine, and many that I’ve worked with over the years, are unlike the culture.

Everyone should have teens like we have had. Our kids have been free to choose their friends and they’ve chosen wisely – usually. They’ve been free to disagree with their parents, but have done so within the bounds of respect – usually. They’ve been free to seek and find the Lord, they’ve come to Him on His terms at their own pace and time. They follow Him in faith – usually.

I love teens. I love listening to them talk, watching how they act and interact. I love their sense of justice. Their out of balance drama is the germ of reality TV. The one draw back that I see in teen-hood is when people move to adulthood and bring their teenager mentality with them. There is a time to put away the teen years, but as John said, “Hold on to 16 as long as you can; changes come around real soon—make us women and men.” Even though Caleb is a teen, we’ve decided to keep him - at least for a while.

telemicus out

Now that the holidays have passed and the New Year is underway, I think its time for some reflection, direction, correction and action. I love new years. To me, it’s the best time for new starts and my annual do-over. I’m not big on resolutions and all, but I do like goals. If you’ve been with me a while, you might remember that I asked my family to make new years resolutions for me last year. I asked them what I should work on. The one clear dragon that cried out for slaying was “being fierce.”

Being fierce is what I have always done. It is my control mechanism. It’s how I managed life. I am not brave enough to confront most things head on; I have used moods and the force of fierceness to communicate what I didn’t want to say. If I disapprove, a look will communicate it without words. Irritations are subject to attack with silent disregard and gruff attitude. If words are required, the arsenal is rich; the weapons are deadly, the knowledge keen and the warrior skilled.

I’ve learned a few things about all this that you certainly already know. I’m just letting you know so that if you see me being less than my best, you can let me know its happening (we all have hearts with blind spots and veiled lampshades.) So here are some things I learned in 08 that I hope to make better use of in 09.

Pain does not have to be acknowledged to be valid. It’s enough that we know and respond appropriately. Your personal world does not owe you Understanding of your day or life; don’t respond to it as though it did. In other words, it’s not their fault if you overslept, ran out of gas or forgot a meeting. Frustration is a result of expectations that go unmet. Often, those who frustrate us don’t even know what our expectations are. It is not their fault if we are frustrated at work, with our mate or about our unfulfilled dreams.

Some look at themselves and want to be better. Many look for that magic moment, that word of wisdom, that great epiphany that will make them more loving, eager to exercise, kinder to children and old folks, more fond of vegetables, floss regularly, drink more water, pray, lose weight, love the lost, volunteer in the community and even smile.

There is no such moment, word or epiphany coming. To move to the Better side of Best takes Reflection so that we can see who we really are, Direction so that we know how to go, Correction so that we don’t continue behaviors that lead to less than our best and Action so that we don’t look at the calendar in December and ask ourselves, “Why didn’t I make any progress this year?”

I’m going to try to move this year from this side of my best to the better side of my best. It’s not an easy climb, but the view from the better side of our best is one that makes us better people to be with. I hope you will climb with me.

telemicus out

Back in the mid 70’s our family lived in Kirksville, Missouri where my dad, Jonathan preached. In the trenches of ministry, it is sometimes hard to see if you are making any progress. We see challenges, we take on the opposition, we beg God for help, we walk faithfully and we wonder; Am I making any difference? But now and then, we find out that something we never expected was a big deal. Rocky Veach was a young boy when I met him. This is how it happened.

Dad sent out a mass mailing in our town offering a free Bible Correspondence Course. Out of four thousand fliers, he received eight responses. Rocky’s mom was one of them. She finished the course, in time had further Bible studies, and was baptized. Rocky and his brothers began to ride the church Joy Bus to Sunday school.

One Sunday morning, Rocky missed the bus. I think he was about ten years old. He called a cab and paid with his own money for a ride to church. I remember one of the men at church saying, “We have adult members who don’t want to be here bad enough to do that.” He looked like most any boy I guess. He had long hair, thin build and loved being at church. So whatever happened to Rocky?

This week, with the help of a friend, I found him. Rocky was, he says, “radically” saved at the age of 18. From 1984 to 1986, Rocky attended Rhema Bible Training Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He also met and married his wife Bobbi, during that time. Rocky has been involved in ministry for more than twenty years. Today, Rocky Veach oversees TORCH Ministries and directs IMN, a Missions based organization dedicated to spreading the Gospel, while helping the poor and needy around the world. Rocky travels internationally, ministering in churches, conferences, and Bible Schools. Together, Rocky and Bobbi also pastor, “Connections Church” in New York’s Hudson Valley.

This is what Rocky said to me.

“Please tell your father I have often reflected on the way the Lord used the Joy Bus and am very appreciative of the impact your family made on my life as a young boy.  It is amazing how passing acts of service and leadership can have eternal results, sometimes in the least likely of candidates.”

We never know what the simplest act of service might mean to a person or to the world. Nice going Pop!

telemicus out

When I was a teenager, our parents let the four of us kids drive out to the Christmas tree farm east of Kirksville to pick and cut down the family tree. I think the price in 1975 was $8.00 if you cut it yourself. We loaded into the station wagon, my sister Cindy drove. We arrived at the lot with saw in hand. The hunt was on and we ran all over trying to find the perfect tree. It was almost dark and we found one that we liked. I lay on the ground and in a little while, we were dragging the prize to the Buick.

In the light of home, it became evident that the darkness of the night had also clouded our judgment about the tree. The trunk was as crooked as a reindeer antler. Like flowers at Lowes look really great when there is whole flat of them but one by itself looks a little sad, so this tree looked fine in the natural setting with all its friends. However, standing alone in the light of the Taylor living room all its flaws were on full display.

For years, the family served up memories of that tree fiasco with a generous side of laughter when decorating subsequent trees. I know the tree was flawed. It received the nickname the “Charlie Brown tree.” I’m reminded this week of the original Charlie Brown tree. When the Peanuts gang worked their magic on that pathetic little tree and it became full and beautiful, Linus said, “It’s not such a bad little tree – all it needed was a little love.”

I suppose many of us, if we were Christmas trees, would be like the one I cut down in 1975 or like the one Charlie Brown chose. We have bare spots, falling out needles, crooked trunks, misshapen bodies and perhaps we are even a little dried out. All the folks you will see this holiday season are like the trees in our homes. Some are beautiful and majestic, while others are simple. Many are refined with gold decorations and white lights while others are little more than cedar bushes with homemade ornaments and a single string of giant multicolored lights. We know the real ones and the artificial, although some of the frauds are very realistic.

Common among all of us is that we are not such bad little trees; all we need is a little love. May we all decorate the people we meet this Christmas season with a little bit of love. It’ll bring out their best.

telemicus out