Archive for the ‘Teamwork’ category
November 17, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. November 17, 2014
I love snow days…and I hate snow days!
I love the unexpected freedom, the sudden opening up of my day’s schedule, and the surprise of a snow day.
But I hate the loss of rhythm that a snow day brings.
I have discovered that I am a person of routines and consistent behavior. I’m at Starbucks right now as I write this. It’s Monday morning about 9:00 and my day off. If you were to come to Starbucks next Monday at 9:00 you’d stand a very good chance of finding me sitting on one of the stools facing the windows drinking coffee and pecking on my laptop. I feel comfortable integrating certain routines in my life.
If it’s 2:00 on a Sunday afternoon I’ll be napping.
If it’s Wednesday night I’m at church.
If it’s Friday morning at 8:00 there’s a fifty percent chance I’m at a different Starbucks having coffee with Roger and Steve. The chances are only half as good because we meet every other Friday morning.
If it’s 10 P.M. I’m thinking about bed if I’m not already in bed.
I think you get the picture. Life has its patterns and order…and then the thermometer plunges to 0 and chaos blows into the day. Events get canceled, meetings get postponed, there’s a breath of fresh air in the uncluttered day…and I feel lost!
I find myself trying to figure out what day it is, what’s on the schedule, and what I’m about. We are creatures of habit whether we want to admit it or not. If given a choice the Hebrew nation would have chosen to return to Egypt. Egypt offered steady work…yes, also enslaved work, but a person knew when he woke up in the morning what he was going to do that day!
It also makes me wonder about those who become followers of Christ during their adult years, and slip away within months of their conversion. Spiritual transformation for many people is a tremendous change, leaving the old and accepting the new. We use terms like lost and found, “the old has passed away and the new person has been born.”
And yet such terminology, freeing on one hand, is difficult on the other hand. It’s like the ratty blanket that I sleep with each night, and have slept with for about 35 years. It doesn’t really offer that much warmth, but it feels like home.
Conversion, though it offers freedom and forgiveness, a new start, a fresh beginning…is out of rhythm for us.
On the other side, I’ve been a Christ-follower since I was 12. I’ve always gone to church on Sunday. In fact, growing up I was in church Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night. I thought Sunday night services were mandated by the Bible. I remember asking Dr. James Payson Martin, Senior Pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Arlington Heights, Illinois why the church didn’t have Sunday night services. I was serving there as a youth director while i was in seminary. I’ll always remember what he said to me. “Well Bill, what it takes you Baptists two services to do we can do in one service!” A few years later when I was pastoring at First Baptist Church of Mason, Michigan, I brought Sunday night services to a close.
I’ve always gone to church, been involved in ministries, participated in leadership as a member and pastor. My Sunday morning seems to have gone haywire if I’m not in worship. I don’t quite understand Saturday night services. If I went to one I’d be lost on Sunday morning!
The longer I pastor the more obvious it is that there aren’t many people left who see things like I do. The church is populated with an increasing number of people whose life rhythm is not centered on Sunday morning worship as a consistent part of their lives.
Understand that I’m not whining about that. I’m just coming to grips with what is the reality. My understanding of having a conversion experience is a different picture than most people now have. Being aware of that has given me more of an open mind and listening ear to those who are still trying to find that spiritually healthy rhythm of life.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Holy Spirit, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: cancellations, Delays, Egypt, habits, rhythm, routines, snow days, the rhythm of life, traditions
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October 20, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. October 20, 2014
Momentum is not a scriptural word…unless you go to The Message paraphrase, and then it appears once in Matthew 4:25. Other than that there is no momentum in the Bible.
And yet we talk about momentum quite a bit in the ministry of the church. Perhaps it’s an offshoot of our over-zealous sports world mindset. There’s hardly a game that can be viewed on TV without “The Big Mo” word used during it. Teams have the momentum, grab the momentum, make a play that changes the momentum, can sense the momentum shifting…and on and on.
And so we hold it up in the church as a key part of our success…or failure. There’s a couple of problems with momentum. One is we try to make it a spiritual concept. Or on the other hand, we translate a spiritual revival or awakening as a sign of building momentum. Increased attendance at worship is seen as meaning there is momentum. An increase in baptisms, or those wanting to become members of the church, or financial giving, or a building project…all of those are viewed as spiritual indications of momentum building. We crave it. We even idolize it.
But where as the Spirit is steady, momentum is fickle. It can come and go at a “moment’s” notice. The hardest Sunday of the year for a pastor is the Sunday after Easter. Easter is a spark of momentum. The Sunday after Easter things go back to the way they were. It’s almost like Jesus goes back into the tomb. So much for momentum!
There’s been a few years where the excited momentum of Easter was quickly followed by the depressed loss of life.
Which brings me to a final question that I don’t necessarily have an answer to, but I want to ask it! What is the difference between the moving of the Spirit and momentum? The early church experienced both. I love the Acts 2 and 4 passages where the believers met daily in the temple courts, praised and prayed, took care of one another. The difference between the moving of the Spirit and momentum is that transformed lives are the result of the Spirit’s moving. People who are changed are left in the trail of the Spirit’s wind. Ananias and Sapphira’s “special gift” mentioned in Acts 5 was an indication of being caught up in the momentum of the times. They weren’t moved by the Spirit, but rather by their greed and need for recognition.
So…any time there is a sense of momentum there will always be the anger of false acts of spiritual devotion. It’s the Christian version of “fifteen minutes of fame!”
How do we know what is of God and what is of our own creation? I don’t entirely know, but I am taken back by the story in the gospels where Jesus notices the gift of a poor widow that everyone else has discounted as meaningless.
Something to think about!
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Holy Spirit, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Acts 2, Acts 4, Acts 5, Ananias and Sapphira, Easter, fifteen minutes of fame., having the momentum, momentum, moving of the Spirit, Post-Easter, Spiritual renewal, Transformation
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September 22, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 22, 2014
I graduated from Ironton High School in 1972. For those who are math-challenged that means I received my diploma 42 years ago. It also means that most of the people in my high school class hit the “6-0” sometime during this year.
This past weekend people from my “Class of ’72” had a 60th Birthday Bash in Ironton.
I couldn’t go! I had a team of three year olds I needed to coach in soccer…otherwise known as “herd ball.”
But I did see pictures from the birthday bash that several of my Facebook friends posted. Here’s the hard part! When you don’t see people for decades you tend to ask the same question over and over again: Who is that?
Sixty looks different than eighteen! My frame of reference with Ironton High School is still with an eighteen lens. But things happen! Hair turns grey…or white…or disappears! Waistlines expand, people get shorter, more bent over. Wisdom has its price tag…support bras, support leg stockings, back support wraps. Aging is not easy.
I miss a lot of my high school classmates…Dave Hughes…Margaret Whaley…Mike Fairchild…Tommy “TD” Douglas…Jim Payne…Susan Heald…Greg Harding. The memories come back of Carl Pyle singing “Climb Every Mountain” at graduation, Sunday night youth gatherings at First Baptist, Junior Prom with Mary Cronacher, setting the school record for the mile run (which lasted for one..maybe two years) in a race in Charleston…and only finishing fifth! Getting ribbed for not getting my driver’s license until I graduated (Jeff Waddell kept asking me how the stereo system was on my bicycle!), Smitty’s for unhealthy lunches, the protest of some of the African-American students, during which they got on the school P.A. system.
Good times!
I’m assuming that most of us in my class have grown out of high school. We’ve matured, gone on to raise families, become overbearing parents just like ours were, and now grandparents who carry around thousands of pictures of our grandkids…and maybe one each of our originals! We’ve gone our different ways and now we look back on what was and miss the Friday nights, the possible teen romances, and the laughter of crazy adolescence.
Sixty is a new phase of life that came along whether we were ready for it or not.
I have to admit something. In some ways it’s hard for me to go back to my old high school. For one thing, they tore down my school and built a new building on the spot, with the exception of the nostalgic front entrance columns that they kept standing. But it’s also hard for me to go back because I’ve moved away and moved on. Life is better in many ways, harder in others, but most of all, completely different. I’ve been a pastor for thirty-five years, married the same number and only once, father of three, grandfather of two and a half (3 next March). Most of my life these days is focused on a completely different set of priorities than I had at IHS.
I miss my old classmates, and I’m okay with that.
Categories: children, Community, Freedom, Humor, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 60 years old, birthday, class reunions, Friends, high school, Ironton, Sixty
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September 15, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 15, 2014
I’ve noticed something a little strange! A growing percentage of my life is being spent with three year olds. As I’ve mentioned in recent writings, I’m coaching a soccer team of three year olds. And now…this past Sunday I began co-teaching a Sunday School class mostly of three year olds.
About twenty-five years ago Robert Fulghum wrote a book entitled All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten. I’m thinking of a revision, without Fulghum’s permission, entitled “Most Of What I Know Now Was Learned From Three Year Olds.” I may have to shorten the title, but the thought resonates with me.
Here’s a couple of things I’ve discovered from three year olds.
What you say…they take literally! My granddaughter was playing goalie in our soccer game on Saturday for one of the quarters. Coach Tony who helps us told her that when the ball came towards her she was to jump on it.
She did exactly what he said! When the ball came towards her she jumped on it…with her feet. Jumping to her means jumping up in the air and landing back on your feet again. So…she tried to land on top of the ball with her feet, but her timing was off…so, in essence, she jumped up just in time for the ball to pass under her and into the goal.
Three year olds take things literally. It’s also why you can talk about polka-dotted ponies and whispering caterpillars with them and they believe. Perhaps that’s why Jesus talked to his followers about having a child-like faith. Faith requires that you take God at his word! Thirty-three year olds aren’t as good at that. Neither are sixty-three year olds. Too much skepticism has been spoken into our lives at those points.
Here’s something else I’ve learned from three year olds! What is important isn’t really what’s important! I had a schedule for Sunday School class this past Sunday. I had a lesson plan. I had times attached to each part of the lesson. Half of the plan got accomplished. None of the students got upset at missing out on “Activity #4”. What was important to them was Goldfish crackers, singing “Jesus Loves Me” accompanied by a classroom full of percussionists, and coloring a picture of a school bus to take home with them. Likewise, three year old soccer players don’t keep score. They giggle, look at airplanes flying overhead, and play with the assurance that their will be a snack time after the final whistle. What is important to them is having a coach that will give them a high five, pick them up when they fall down, and help them tie their shoes. Simple things. Uncomplicated things like Jesus loves them this they know…for the Bible tells them so!
One more thing they’ve taught me…so far! Play is just as important as work! The soccer field we run around on is right next to a playground with swings, a slide, and monkey bars. Several times so far I’ve had players take a soccer break and meander over to the slide. Their soccer “responsibilities” can wait, even though their coach is sensing “they aren’t taking this seriously!” Their lives will be filled with work soon enough, and at that point they will wonder why their playtime had to decrease and, for some, disappear.
Teaching a three year old Sunday School class requires being able to still play some. It requires getting down on the carpet even though you’re not sure how quickly you’ll be able to get back up again.
As I tell the high school basketball players I coach, the game is played closer to the floor than in the air. Three year olds prove that…especially the playing part!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Faith, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: important, Jesus Loves Me, Robert Fulghum, simple things, soccer, Sunday School, teaching three year olds, three year olds
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September 6, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 6, 2014
This morning at way too early…with wet grass glistening…nine three year olds arrived at the soccer field, accompanied by parents holding cups of Starbucks coffee, for our second practice and first game.
Thirty minutes of practice followed by thirty minutes of a “game.” To call it a game would be similar to calling the school custodian a maintenance bio-engineer- there is some element of truth hidden deep within the title.
Coach Carol- also known as Mrs. Carol Wolfe- bought a balloon to take to the game with Spiderman on it. We tied it to one of the goals to help our confused three’s know which was our goal. It also helped us figure out our team name: Spiders! One young guy who had worn a Spiderman jacket the first week was totally excited about that being our name. Plus, I wasn’t really too enamored by the suggestions from last week: Butterflies, Butterfingers, Pink Toes, and Pizza Hut!
In our short practice we worked on kicking the ball hard. Some are still not comfortable with such violence. I assured them that they could not “bully” their soccer ball. They looked unconvinced!
We welcomed four new kids who missed the first week. One of them ran around most of the time pretending to be an airplane. Another was so scared she never left her mom’s side. “Playing time” is not a big concern of hers right now, unless you’re talking about the swing set.
Right as we had herded the spiders to the correct side of the field to start our game two of our players needed a drink of water. The “airplane” player was coming in for a landing…on the next field over!
The game started and we kicked the ball…not necessarily in the right direction, but we kicked it. One of our girls runs like a horse- not a thoroughbred, mind you! A prancing play pony on two legs. One little girl fell and ran to Mommy. One little boy kept asking when snack-time was going to be. Another little boy was contesting the soccer ball one time with a boy from the other team. “Winning the ball” had not been clearly defined to him. He did a two-hand shove of the opposing three-year old and took the ball away. An opposing player picked up the ball one time and started heading towards the parking lot.
And then it was over! All survived and all got the much-anticipated snacks of the morning. I asked the Spiders what they had learned that day: Kick the ball at Spider-Man, kick the ball hard, and stop being so cute (Just kidding)!
Kids left with smiles on their faces, parents checked iPhone photos taken, and Coach Carol and Coach Bill started thinking about nap-time!
Categories: children, Community, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: coaching kids, giggling, having fun, kicking the ball, laughter, soccer, Spider-Man, three year olds
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September 2, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. September 1, 2014
I entered a new phase of my coaching career this past Saturday. I had the first soccer practice with a new team of three year olds!
Three year olds! A three year old has been alive five percent of my life!
Why three year olds? My granddaughter is on the team…her first team experience ever…so Granddad and Grammy are the coaches.
The practice did not involve soccer ball juggling or players getting to open space, as we say. There was no instruction on defending or setting off-sides traps. No…the practice included asking each player what their favorite lunch food items were.
“Macaroni and cheese!”
“Pepperoni pizza!”
“Peanut butter and jelly!”
Notice I put exclamation marks after each favorite lunch. That’s because each was said with enthusiasm…especially my granddaughter’s pepperoni pizza.
We transitioned to stretching.
“Okay! See if you can touch your toes without bending your knees (I can’t!).” One three year old boy fell over and concluded that stretching was not his strong point. He looked with a pained facial expression at his mom and dad. A couple of the girls thought stretching was fun.
“Okay! Let’s take our soccer balls and put them between our feet.” Two kids with limited coordination fell down just taking steps. Two others put the soccer ball between their feet and sat on them. It’s about at this time that I decided it would be good to get a water break. We had been hard at it for almost five minutes.
I crossed off the slide tackling drill we were going to do!
“Okay! Let’s learn how to dribble. Everybody look down at your soccer ball and say “Hi!”
They all thought that was cool…talking to soccer balls was now on the same level of excitement as favorite lunch choices.
“Now, let’s use the inside of our foot and kick the ball all the way to the white line.”
Ever seen one of those crawling baby races where the babies are released and they head in a dozen different directions? Our first attempt at dribbling a soccer ball was like that. It brought back memories of my old electric football game when I was growing up that no one ever figured out. How was a tackle ever made in electric football? It wasn’t!
Water break!
“Okay! Say hello to your soccer ball again, and let’s go take shots on the goal!”
One thing I learned about three year olds is that they are scared that they will hurt their precious soccer ball. One of the girls had Barbie or some pink character on hers, and now I’m telling them to kick it hard!
Dainty and gentle would be better descriptions of our foot to ball contact at the first practice.
Water break!
A couple of the boys were reaching the end of their attention span. They spotted the swings and slide in the back of the park. I lost them!
In all, I think we had a good thirty-five minutes of practice. Take away the favorite lunch conversation, water breaks, and getting to know their soccer ball on a casual conservation basis…okay, maybe twenty minutes, but it was a hard twenty!
And I was exhausted!
Categories: children, Community, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized
Tags: attention spans, coaching, coaching soccer, coaching three year olds, dribbling, grandparents, juggling soccer balls, pepperoni pizza, soccer, soccer balls, stretching, three year old soccer, three year olds
Comments: 1 Comment
August 28, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. August 28, 2014
It seemed like a good idea! Lace up the cleats…dust off the jersey…”stick-em” spray on the hands…let’s go!
Last Sunday night I played football with the “young guys” from church. “Young” seems to get older in it’s definition each year, but for this group it is boundaried by years number 25 to 32.
Last May I turned 60! That’s twice them! Two times as long, twice as many Christmases, double their hair loss…and more than two times at risk for injury. The menu for injuries for me now includes things like broken hips, strokes and heart attacks.
But I ran on to the turf like a Johnny Unitas in low-cuts! I could feel a growl in my soul!
The eight of us warmed up for at least three minutes before figuring who was on which team. Let’s get it on!
We received and marched down the field before stalling at the twenty yard line…our own twenty, that is! Our friends in blue jerseys scored in one play. Lucky!
I quarterbacked the next series and threw a perfect go route pass to my son-in-law. We were clicking!
From there the clicking stopped! The guys on the other team started intentionally kicking off aiming at me! They hadn’t seen my career stats! And then I stretched to make a two-hand touch on a young buck named Austin and my left hamstring didn’t accept it…the stretch that is! It refused to be extended. It’s amazing how one muscle can redirect the entire body! The rest of me got in line behind my rebelling ancient inflexible hamstring and joined the coup.
When Paul wrote in Philippians 3:13 about “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead”, I don’t think he had a hamstring in mind, but my strained hamstring now gives me a different interpretation of the scripture!
A little disgusted I had to become the rusher on defense…on one leg!
I actually had a great time that night, and the young guys applauded my effort, even as they snickered at my slowness. The next day every…and I mean every…muscle in my body hurt! I popped Advil as I prayed for healing!
Several have asked me why I subjected my body to such torture? Because althoiugh my body is sixty my mind is still thirty. When my mind feels as old as my body I’ll take a padded cushion to the field with me and watch from a distance.
But for now I think I still have Johnny Unitas-potential!
Someone just shared some cruel news with me. Johnny Unitas passed away twelve years ago!
What?????
Categories: Bible, Community, Humor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: effort, Football, Forgetting what is behind, gridiron, hamstring, jersey, Johnny Unitas, Philippians, Philippians 3:13, Sixty, Sixty years old, straining toward what is ahead, two-hand touch
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July 5, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. July 5, 2014
A few minutes ago I left a breakfast that a group of men from our church had at a local restaurant. We were gathered on both sides of a long table…yacking…telling stories…razzing one another…stretching the truth like taffy.
On one side of the table were a row of hats placed in extreme orderliness on four heads. They weren’t just any kind of hat, but rather hats signifying the military service of the wearer.
One was worn by a Vietnam Vet who was in the Army. An Army brat himself, he served his country well in the midst of a difficult confusing war.
Two of the hat wearers were Navy vets who served during World War Two and the Korean Conflict. One had been on a destroyer in the middle of the Pacific. The other had spent most of his time in an iron lung in San Diego, after being diagnosed with polio. His willingness to serve his country was trumped by the illness that took the lives of so many.
The fourth head wore a hat telling of his service in the Air Force. He learned Russian at a time when the Cold War was heating up. It was at a time when Americans and Russians listened to one another, albeit by intercepting messages and other spying techniques.
The four men has served their country for the cause of freedom, sometimes not understanding it, sometimes in harm’s way, sometimes at a distance.
As we ate our eggs and bacon I found myself being extremely appreciative for sitting at the same table with them. They had laid their lives on the line for people like me.
Yesterday we celebrated 238 years of independence. There is a large fellowship of the hats that has offered headwear of protection for our nation through generations past and present.
Sometimes we fail to appreciate the magnitude of freedom until we hear of regimes in other parts of the world who do not believe their citizens are entitled to it. But freedom for our nation is a foundational principle. It is why we became a rebelling population that risked everything for independence.
The fellowship of the hats is to be honored and treasured and saluted. Our hats are off to you.
Categories: Freedom, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized
Tags: Air Force, free, hats, independence, Iron Lung, July 4, Korean Conflict, military, Navy, tuberculosis, Vietnam War, World War Two
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June 26, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. June 26, 2014
My home study is populated with pictures. Pictures tell of what was, and provide sweet remembrances of times gone by.
Sitting on my desk in front of me is a framed picture of my granddaughter when she was two, dressed in the same red dress with white lace that her mom wore when she was also two. Reagan is staring at my when a smile on her face. If her picture came alive right now she could get whatever she wanted from her granddad!
Above her on the wall is a picture of the Mason High School Girl’s Junior Varsity basketball team that I helped coach in 1997. I’m wearing a sweet looking pair of khaki shorts and eye glasses that cover about two-thirds of my face. Eleven girls separate me from Coach Don Fackler, who is on the other side of the picture. Don taught me so much about coaching, and I miss him terribly. I find his voice coming out of my mouth so often in practice and at games. The girls in the picture have gone on to be moms, coach other teams, and develop callings and careers that we would never have imagined.
When I turn around the wall behind me is covered with team pictures of other teams I’ve coached through the years. Each picture is now still life, but my mind is flooded with memories when I gaze at each one of them. I remember the goofballs, the boys who would make me laugh hysterically, and the head cases that kept me awake at night.
Good teams! Bad teams! Teams that worked hard, and teams that didn’t know how to work.
At the top of the rows of pictures is my youngest daughter’s college cheer squad from University of Sioux Falls. She cheered for the Cougars all four years she was there and only experienced one defeat in football, that being one year in the NAIA championship game. The other three years they won the NAIA. She looks so fit and pretty in the squad picture. I’m a little reluctant to remind myself that she is my baby.
There are no wedding pictures in my study. For some reason those are confined to the guest bedroom, like a different exhibit in the museum.
Pictures tell a thousand stories and cause my soul to chuckle in delight.
Categories: children, Community, Humor, marriage, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: big glasses, cheer squad, coach, Coach Fackler, coaching, Mason High School, memories, remembering, team pictures, University of Sioux Falls
Comments: 1 Comment
June 21, 2014
WORDS FROM W.W. June 20, 2014
Depending on who you talked to God was in it or grieved by it!
The Independent Church Softball League was canceled after the sixth week of the season. Some said it was long overdue; others said it was a sign of secular humanism’s takeover of the world. Y2K was linked to it by some since most churches are about twenty years behind the times anyway.
It started with the Freewill Baptist Church Flames, who protested the fact that the Brethren Church Brethren were permitting a woman to play on their team. The Flames did not believe freedom extended to the opposite gender when it came to church softball. It did seem kind of odd that the Brethren would be the only team to have a female put a glove on.
The disagreements between league congregations didn’t end there. Torrential rains canceled all games during the second and third weeks of the season. It was either forget about them or plan for a few to be made on Wednesday night. The Apostolic Holiness Church could not allow that to happen. Many in their church believed that Jesus was going to come back soon…and it would probably be during their Wednesday night prayer meeting. Not many from their softball team attended the prayer meeting, but if Jesus did return on a Wednesday night, and they happened to be playing softball they were certain there would be eternal consequences. The Nazarenes weren’t too high on the idea either, but their make-up game was to be against Mercy Bible Church who hadn’t won a game since Jesus was here the first time. The Nazarenes couldn’t let a sure win slip through their fingers, all because of it being a Wednesday night.
And then there were the Independent Irregular Baptist Church, who no one much cared for. They voted not to let a new church join the league because several of the players had hair that came almost to their shoulders. They forfeited their game against the long hairs rather than be tainted by the association. Brother Rice of the Irregulars stated that long hair was the working of the devil, getting men to take on feminine characteristics. To quote him: “You let one little thing pass, and pretty soon a tidal wave of paganism starts arriving every Sunday to the church.” The manager of Mercy said he thought Brother Rice was splitting hairs.
The final straw of dissension amongst the league’s members was when a visiting evangelist for the church of the Flames was asked by his hosting church to give the prayer before their game with the Second Street Wesleyan Church team, and he preceded to pray that the Wesleyans would turn away from their wicked ways and be saved.
After long loud debate and accusations the league disbanded. Some of the best players from amongst the teams got together and made a new team that was sponsored by Rosie’s Bar and Grill and played in the City Tavern League. Most of them rediscovered that playing the game is fun!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Brethren, church, church softball, independent church, Nazarenes, secular humanism, softball
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Words from WW Blog 