secular sacramentsIf we are very fortunate, every now and then our senses encounter a moment of beauty so transcendently marvelous that the experience becomes for us a portal or gate to the eternal. Wordsworth saw in such moments an "intimation of immortality," a memory of the soul's eternal existence before our birth, when "trailing clouds of glory, we come from God." Celtic Christianity described the event more biblically as a "thin space" or "thin place" where whatever separates the seen and unseen dimensions becomes almost transparent.
our mortal minutesWe know in our heads that we cannot take life for granted because the Bible says so, but we learn it in our hearts through experience on the ground. During the past three days, I have received three reminders that our earthly life at its best is both fragile and brief. Two reminders took the form of emails, bringing word of friends who have received devastating diagnoses. The other was a phone call reporting the death of a relative. It is evidence of godly wisdom for us to pause at such news and to reflect with sober mind on the lessons it has to teach.
through a personal storm (two gracEmails)As you know, Hurricane Ike unleashed its wrath last week (September 2008)... with disastrous consequences.... The storm took precious lives, destroyed billions of dollars in property and still leaves millions of people without electrical or other basic services. So today I pray for every victim of Ike, and give thanks for protection of my own and others' homes.... I also give thanks for deliverance through a personal storm during the same general time period. Last week when Ike came ashore at Galveston, Sara Faye and I (with longtime friends Mark & Phyllis Whitt) were sailing along New England and Canadian maritime provinces on a cruise ship vacation. This wonderful holiday became my personal health storm when on its second day I suffered a severe asthma attack and afterward came down with pneumonia. After spending days in the ship's on-board hospital, I traveled last Sunday by ambulance from the ship to New York Presbyterian Hospital in Manhattan, from which I was released five days later.
thanksgiving for familyIt is Saturday afternoon, July 14, 2007. Sara Faye and I are at a Fudge family reunion hosted by my brother Benjamin and his wife Susan at their home in beautiful Upland, California. Nestled at the foot of the San Gabriel Mountains in San Bernardino County, this little section of Planet Earth must make "San Gabriel" the archangel smile with pleasure.
family mattersThis past Thursday through Sunday, Sara Faye and I attended a reunion of the extended family of my maternal grandparents, Will and Delia (O'Neal) Short, who themselves went to Africa in 1921 as missionaries and served Christ there for more than 60 years. About 100 Shorts, O'Neals, Fudges, Ewings, Mansurs and decendants came from across the United States, England, Holland and (recently) Africa to the beautiful Roman Nose State Park Resort in northern Oklahoma.
family roots and branchesThis weekend Sara Faye, Grandma Locke and I, with both our children and their spouses (all from Texas), enjoyed a Fudge family reunion at beautiful, wooded, Doublehead Resort on Wilson Lake in North Alabama (www.doublehead.com). My brothers from California and Florida werethere, as well as two brothers and a sister from Alabama and our mother from Ohio.
ashes or just A-fib?This past Wednesday in many Christian traditions was Ash Wednesday. It is the first day of Lent, a 40-day period (not counting Sundays) of repentance and prayer that ends in the victorious climax of Easter Sunday. Some churches ignore, avoid or even oppose the liturgical church calendar because it is not mentioned in the New Testament. However, a person would be hard pressed to object to the traditional themes and details those special days incorporate.
reality realizedDuring my senior year in college I lived alone and off-campus, without radio or television in my room. In the resulting silence my mind played some peculiar games. For several weeks, for example, as I lay in bed at night, the question kept coming into my head, "How do I know that I am me and that my life is real? What if my entire perceived life is really only the dream of a Chinese peasant living on a sampan in the Yangtze River?"
Grandpa's faith and fearAs I write this on a Sunday afternoon in early April 2002, our first grandbaby Julia remains in the special care nursery at the hospital where she was born five long days ago. Her parents, Melanie and Michael, are staying at the hospital, although Melanie has been officially discharged as a patient. It seems that Julia's temperature is lower than normal and her heart beat is slower than usual.
relationship with GodJesus came to give abundant life, a gift that is not measured by physical health or material prosperity (John 10:10). It is life in fellowship with the Creator, life that continually bubbles up like an artesian well from a hidden, inner source (John 7:38-39). This life produces peace and joy that are undefeatable and that can thrive despite any circumstance.
ordinary peopleFor Saturday breakfast, I sometimes pick up two chicken-biscuits at the drive-through, which Sara Faye and I both enjoy with a cup of hot tea while reading the morning's Houston Chronicle. This weekend the paper featured an interesting group of 22 very ordinary people who were brought together by a common experience.
reverie on a walk am using vacation days from work this year-end and part of my loose agenda includes taking some walks around the neighborhood. My life is largely sedentary, though I do manage frequent lunchtime strolls at a mall throughout the year. The weather this evening is perfect for a T-shirt hike in Houston -- 70 degrees temperature with 81% humidity and 16 mph winds from the Gulf of Mexico to our southeast.
counting blessingsIt is 10:00 a.m. and we are at our church's meeting place. Looking around at the brothers and sisters present for worship, and remembering some others not there, I reflect on so many blessings which I must not ever take for granted. Gayle smiles sweetly from her wheelchair. Cerebral palsy left her unable to shake hands but it can't stop her from touching hearts.
reunion and renewalIt is late Sunday night and I have just returned home to Houston from a weekend of very special blessing in Athens, Alabama where I grew up and where my ancestors had lived since about 1805. The occasion was the 40th year reunion on Saturday night of the Athens Bible School graduating class of 1962. All 17 members of our class are still living and 13 were present for this occasion
soul-longing for a world to comeWe took my wife's 85-year-old widowed mother home last week, to a little stone house in Tennessee which Granddad built for her 57 years ago and in which she has lived ever since. Sara Faye carried her by car to experience the transition, then stayed the remainder of the week to help her get readjusted.
our finite yearsIt is late Sunday night and I have just returned home to Houston from a weekend of very special blessing in Athens, Alabama where I grew up and where my ancestors had lived since about 1805. The occasion was the 40th year reunion on Saturday night of the Athens Bible School graduating class of 1962.
happy birthday memoriesToday -- April 5, 2007 -- brings special memories of my father, Benjamin ("Bennie") Lee Fudge. This would be his 93rd birthday . . . had he not died suddenly and unexpectedly at age 57 in February 1972. It's an amazing thought. I cannot imagine him old. Nor is it easy to think that I have already outlived him by nearly six years.
life now and foreverThis final week of 2004 has seen what is perhaps the largest natural disaster in the world's history, following an earthquake under the Indian Ocean more than 740 miles long and having the force of a million atomic bombs. The quake, which jolted the earth's rotation, spawned monster waves called tsunamis which swept across the Indian Ocean, killing (says the Associated Press) more than 44,000 people in eleven countries from Thailand to Somalia.
sleeping and wakingDid you ever notice that things we call "natural" are those to which we have grown accustomed? Meanwhile, we reserve the term "supernatural" for events which are unusual, extraordinary, infrequent or which we cannot explain. Following such reasoning, many Westerners since the Enlightenment watched the "supernatural" shrink in direct relation to the increase of calculated human observation and organized descriptive thought
a daughter's reflectionsMy wife Sara Faye and I are honored to have her mother Celia live with us in her declining years. The two of them just made a trip to check on the family homeplace in Middle Tennessee. I thank Sara Faye for allowing me to share the following personal reflections with you which she jotted down one evening during that visit in 1999.
two photosOne of our family's cherished photos, taken 29 years ago, portrays three women and a baby girl. The infant is our weeks-old daughter Melanie, held by my wife Sara Faye (then in her 20's), accompanied by Sara Faye's mother Celia and Celia's then-aged mother whom we called Tata. On this Mother's Day 2002, we took another photograph to place beside that one. Celia is the 90-year-old in this picture and the infant is our granddaughter Julia.
reflections after surgeryAfter nine months of leg pain which increased in frequency and severity whenever I stood or walked, and after a progression of unsuccessful treatments including chiropractic, medication, physical therapy and a steroid injection in the spine, God gave me relief and healing two weeks ago (June 1998) through the skillful work of Houston neurosurgeon Dr. Rob Parrish
frail creatures of dustGod made us from elements of earth, to which we eventually return. He animates our clay bodies with his gift of life-breath and makes us whole living beings ("souls" in Hebrew). Every moment's life, every experience of joy and taste of beauty, every sharing of love -- all are gifts of divine grace to a frail people living in a broken world.
milestone and millstoneThis Monday (May 13, 2002) marked a milestone in my life and its passing also removed a millstone of sorts from around my neck. That day was exactly two months before my 58th birthday, which weighed on my mind because 30 years ago my father died exactly two months before he would have turned 58 years old. Call it silly, superstitious or satanic, I have long wondered, with some measure of anxiety, whether God would give me earthly life longer than he gave it to my Dad.
mortalityAs I write these words in 2001, I face a small and treasured family picture on my desk. Melanie appears to be four or five years old, Jeremy about two. Both are now grown and married. Where did those years go? Can I really turn 57 this year? The folks I once knew as grownups are now either old or dead. My contemporaries are showing their own years. The youths are taking over the world.
gratitude and perspectiveI am writing this on Sunday afternoon, September 25, 2005 from our son Jeremy's home in Dallas where the four generations of our family in Houston came last Thursday to escape Hurricane Rita's expected arrival there on Friday/Saturday. We did not anticipate that three million other pilgrims would be travelling west and north from Houston that same day! The trip normally takes about five hours. Sara Faye, her 93-year-old mom and I left at 7:00 a.m. and arrived 18 hours later.
praise God for his protectionThe call came about noon. Jeremy had been in a wreck, maybe 100 miles south of Amarillo. A moment's distraction . . . a veer off the left side of the freeway . . . across the interstate to the opposite side . . . hard turn left to regain stability. The Blazer flipped, then skidded down the shoulder on its passenger side until it stopped. Jeremy opened the driver's door, now above his head, and climbed out -- unharmed.
Pepperdine, hospital and homeMy brother Benjamin and sister-in-law Susan live in Upland, Calif., so I spent a night with them before and after the Pepperdine Lectures. As we prepared for my flight home to Houston on Saturday morning, I began experiencing symptoms. Instead of taking me to the airport, Benjamin and Susan drove me instead to the San Antonio Community Hospital. I was immediately admitted to the ER, attached to a heart monitor and IVs in both hands. EKGs showed atrial fibrillation -- an irregular heartbeat somewhat analogous to a defective timing belt in an automobile.
appreciating breath of life. My wife insisted that I have a hearing test, then urged me to get hearing aids when the test revealed a 50% deficit. I turned a half-deaf ear to her pleas, noting that I have worn eyeglasses since age 10, a decade of sinus problems has robbed me of taste and smell and I have a numb foot following back surgery several years ago. "I already have impaired senses of sight, smell, taste and touch," I reasoned cheerfully. "I'm not about to admit that I can't hear either."
our own generationSara Faye and I married in June 1967 and this year we mark 40 years of wedded life. We celebrated last weekend by splurging on a first-time, Friday-Monday getaway to New York City. Like millions of other visitors to America's largest city, we were awed by the concentration of skyscrapers, museums, historical sites and international cultures. We also were indulged by the meals both elegant and ethnic, tired by the walking and unnerved by the taxi rides. On Saturday night, we thrilled to the enduring Broadway musical production of Les Miserables with its powerful tale of transforming grace.