Blog

A testimony is a witness to personal experience. It cannot be refuted or explained away. It belongs to one person and need not be duplicated by another. This is my testimony of stewardship. I tell only what I have experienced.

    My initial introduction to financial stewardship started at an early age when my sister and I asked Daddy for an allowance. (This was about 1950.) Having thought about it, he handed each of us two quarters and a box of church offering envelopes. He explained that our weekly allowance would be given to us on one condition: one quarter would be given to the church. Both of us agreed; after all, we were one quarter ahead of no allowance.

    Then our church started a building fund. Sure enough, Daddy wanted us to give one quarter to the building fund as well. At first our hearts sank. But Daddy increased our allowance to $1.00 and we were happy with the new arrangement. This went on until I began to earn my own money by baby-sitting and selling Christmas cards. By then I found it natural to give a tithe (10%) of my earnings to the church. I’m thankful for parents who taught me to tithe, even though the first arrangement had been 50/50.

    This habit held fast when Bill and I got married for Bill had also been taught to tithe.  When our church in North Biloxi, Mississippi, began a building program, we set the example for the congregation in giving. In those early years in the pastorate we designated our giving so that it would not come back to us in salary.

   Twice I remember we questioned this principle of tithing. First, when Bill began seminary as he pastored a church in Kentucky. We soon rationalized how our income did not amount enough to title; and surely the expenses of seminary could be counted as an offering to the Lord. We vowed instead to tithe our modest income to the church and missions. After all, wasn’t everything we owned a gift from God?

   Second, when we moved to Indiana to work with OMS International (currently One Mission Society), we reasoned we would have to delete our personal share support of missionaries. But when we figured out our tithe (on our gross income), we had enough to continue our commitment of giving.

   Do you ask about the benefits and rewards of giving? For us, it has meant no sweeping abundance of wealth or material blessings. But God has met our needs, even when dinner meant bread and gravy along with green beans from some parishioner’s garden. Each faith pledge has been met without an unexpected gift, and met by putting God first and using available resources to His glory.

   The greatest benefit has been a deep satisfaction in giving back to God a portion of all He has given to us. (See Proverbs 3:5, 6, 9, 27.)  That benefit has lasted through the years, and today we continue to praise God for the privilege of being a part of Kingdom work with our finances as well as ministry skills.

Some habits are good while others are not so. As I put a tissue in each pocket this morning, I thought of the reason. On occasion during the day, a tissue from my right pocket will be for me, and the tissue in my left pocket will be for Bill. He carries a handkerchief in his back pocket, but rarely gets it out to use. So I have a tissue ready for him.

On my desk I have a notebook that holds my notes from various web meetings. It’s halfway organized, but still useful. While I cannot attest that I refer back to all those notes, it’s a habit I don’t neglect. Another but smaller spiral notebook has been my safe place for notes of all kinds. This was added recently so I could keep track of reminders, rather than have a bunch of small papers which I’d lose on occasion.

Habits not only benefit me, but they can be appreciated by others. Such as preparations for meals. That can become a dreaded occurrence, thinking about what to serve and then doing the work. But if we’d do away with it, we know it would not be good for us. Bill likes meals on time, and he will point at the clock when it’s noon, even if we just had breakfast three hours ago.

Bad habits don’t always start out that way. We often find out their harm as we continue doing them, or when someone corrects us. That happened recently when I tried to end a text conversation by saying, “Thanks for your input.” It came across to the party as condescending and dismissive. I needed to hear that in order to do better next time. My words were like moving out of a room in a face-to-face conversation. That habit has to be broken, so we can have a better relationship. I’m grateful for the correction.

Developing a routine or rhythm in life can start with habits. Friday (the day I’m writing this) is my laundry day, and others in the household honor that time. It became a routine when we moved to Indy. For Terre Haute I volunteered at the CPC on Fridays. Habits or routines can change to accommodate a set schedule. With Bill’s dementia, having a rhythm is important for his day. He can expect what will happen in a consistent pattern. We could all learn from that.

As I got ready to save this blog post, I found that I had written one on habits in 2018. It must be an important aspect of life. I’ll examine more of my habits. How about you and your habits?

The following paragraphs in quotes were written by our daughter, Becky Gearhart, and posted on her Facebook page: 

“I just had a 20 minute ‘conversation’ with my dad. I have absolutely NO IDEA what he was trying to convey. It began with showing me the two locks on the back door. In his mind something was not right about them, although they both seemed to be working just fine. Then he began stringing words together, and in his mind, he was making perfect sense. All I could do was listen and nod…and try not to cry.

“My dad used to teach a class called The Art of Preaching. Gifted with teaching and preaching, he loved to read for knowledge and as a hobby. Words were extremely important to him. He can no longer read, unless it’s put to music, and then he gets most of it right. He usually doesn’t talk much, but when he does, he can’t put together a complete sentence. We often have to try to figure out what he means and try different words or hand gestures if we are trying to say something to him because the words don’t ‘compute.’

“Alzheimer’s disease/Dementia have slowly been taking him farther and farther away. He’s still here physically but my dad is no longer here. It’s a slow death and hard to watch up close.

But God is still good and His mercies never fail. God is still on the throne and He is still sufficient!”

   In June our granddaughter, Anna Rhodes, and her family spent two days with us. The triplets, Ethan, Naomi, and Levi, saw up close what dementia looks like by being around their great-grandpa. Since Anna is a psychiatric nurse, it gave the kids opportunity to ask questions and get good information. At one point, Anna showed her kids an x-ray photo on her phone: a healthy brain and a brain affected by dementia. Holes represented spaces left absent in one’s memory.

   Since their great-grandpa likes to play solitaire on his computer, the kids would join him, and soon they would take over the games, having good fun with Bill who would occasionally instruct them. Naomi sat near him once while he talked. Afterward, I asked what they talked about. She said it was about what he used to do, doing it right, a common theme.

   Anna engaged in a couple of conversations with her grandpa and she was more interactive than I have been. After one talk, I asked Anna how she kept the talk going, how she engaged herself in the conversation. Impressed with her patience and endurance, I needed a few pointers from her. She concentrated on keeping the talk going, whereas I want it to end. Anna would repeat to him some of his words, or give a sense of agreement and appreciation for what he had said. If I can do that, it would please Bill, but it will not be an easy lesson for me to apply. The level of love Anna showed is above her training as a nurse.

   In an earlier blog post I wrote about the term “ambiguous loss.” Becky, in her Facebook post, referred to that by saying her dad is here but not here. While Bill is present, what he used to be is now absent. In his talks, we get a picture of what’s not here anymore. His sentences don’t make sense, and we try to figure out what he’s saying.

  One evening Bill came into the kitchen as Paul and I prepared supper. Bill started talking about his usual theme of doing what’s right and good. We could clearly get that much as he continued to talk. His serious expression showed this was important to him.

   A few mornings later at two o’clock, I awoke to see Bill standing by the bed and talking, again about doing what’s right. As I went over to his side of the bed, he pointed his finger at me and said it would be good for me to do what’s right. He continued to talk as I persuaded him to go to the bathroom.  As if in another world, he talked in a subconscious state, but not in his sleep. At breakfast I told Bill he had been preaching. No response. Anyway, it’s a fun story.

Attempting to Communicate

We go to doctors’ appointments together. I am my husband’s memory when questions are asked. This has been a gradual thing, starting after Bill’s 24-day hospital stay for Legionnaire’s disease the summer of 2010, two years after his retirement from the pastorate. His neurologist had diagnosed the memory loss due to hardening of the arteries. But I am convinced that the Legionnaire’s disease was also a contributing factor. Being intubated meant Bill received a sedative that may have been too much for too long. His lungs are fine now, but deprivation of oxygen affects every cell in one’s body: brain, eyes, muscles, everything. So he is dealing with both short-term and long-term memory loss.

A few years ago while sitting in the waiting room to see our family doctor for a routine visit, I spied a Q & A sign board on a table. The question: ‟What is needed for caregiving?” Post-it notes offered answers from patients. I wrote out my response, ‟Good Communication,” and put it on the board. For communication to be good, it must be frequent and honest. Throughout this process we have had frequent talks together. When Bill used to talk more, I could vouch that his communication was honest. I’ve often said that Bill’s middle name is ‟integrity.” He has openly faced the reality of his situation. He has admitted he has a problem and doesn’t hide it from anyone.

Over time Bill would tell anyone––family, friend, doctor––when he didn’t know something or had trouble remembering. Short-term memory was the first to be affected: forgetting where an item was stored in the kitchen or bathroom, such as a funnel or Q-tips. Of course, the biggest memory block has been with names of people, events, and things. I pointed this out once to our granddaughter after Bill had delivered a sermon and couldn’t think of the ‟Haystack Revival.” She offered this compliment: ‟Grandpa has such a good vocabulary, he comes up with another word, description, or definition.” He had called it a revival associated with a pile of straw.

Long-term memory loss has also developed over time. I first discovered this when Bill answered a medical history form with numerous questions about past ailments. He asked me to go over the form with him to make sure he answered correctly. Surprised that he had answered ‟no” to the question about depression, I had him backtrack by describing what had happened and the effects. At the time he could make associations, ‟Oh yes, I remember now.” At that stage he only needed prompts to help jog his memory. That would not help him now.

Bill also has skewed memory. When telling the reason why he returned to pastoring: ‟It was because I got tired of teaching and wanted to preach again.” That’s not the whole story. He had actually been released from his teaching position at a college due to his bout with depression. The first time the skewed story happened, I corrected him. Confusion ensued. From then on, I let it go. If that’s how he wants to remember what happened, why not?

How does this affect me? Mainly I have to be careful about my tone of voice when I answer his oft-repeated questions, for he doesn’t always recall that he’s asked me once or twice or more often. Perhaps I patronize him. My biggest problem is that I have unreasonable expectations. I would like this to be different, for life to go back as it was, but we tread on, and with hope.

Our hope is not in the medications or doctors’ analysis, but hope that tomorrow will include something sweet and good, some new avenue of sensing God’s goodness. Our hope is not in a remedy down the road but in the Lord.

Carrollton Avenue United Methodist Church, New Orleans, Louisiana

Dad worked for a steamship corporation first in Mobile, AL, then for nine years in New Orleans, LA, before our family returned to Mobile. In New Orleans we attended Carrollton Ave. United Methodist Church, and that’s where I met Bill, later to become his wife after I graduated from Murphy High School in Mobile and he graduated from Tulane University in New Orleans. Our wedding ceremony, August of 1957 in Mobile, had Bill’s Uncle Bud come from Mississippi to officiate. That will be 66 years ago this August.

Uncle Bud found Bill a supply pastorate in North Biloxi, MS, and that’s where we began our marriage, the very next Sunday after our wedding. The parsonage behind the church was furnished and Bill had a small study where he added a small bookcase assembled by his dad. We still have that bookcase. Bill also secured a teaching job at D’Iberville High School when the principal phoned Bill to ask if he could teach Math. He declined, saying he would be suited better to teach English. The school hired him. For two years Bill preached twice on Sundays, led Bible study on Wednesdays, and taught English on weekdays. Those students have kept in touch with us until this day. For their senior year, Bill and I, along with another couple, led the students on a trip to Monterey, Mexico. Quite an adventure filling us all with lasting memories.

Bill accepted his next appointment in Lucedale, MS, for a four-point charge. That’s four churches in a not-so-distant area. Bill set up a new schedule to preach every Sunday at each church, satisfying their need for consistency and our need to know the parishioners better. After two years there and our second son on the way, Bill applied for ministerial training at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, KY. Bill got church appointments which provided our family with housing. After two degrees from ATS and two more children, we moved to Indiana and another church assignment while Bill attended Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati. That meant Bill traveling on weekends to fulfill pastoral duties and connecting with family.

Back to Kentucky when called to be a substitute for a professor at ATS on sabbatical. Two years later, Bill with family moved across the street to Asbury College to teach and finish his PhD dissertation from HUC. Not going into details, we later moved to Greenwood, IN, to take staff positions for two years at One Mission Society. Then back to Asbury College when Bill was appointed Vice President of Academic Affairs.

Several years later we moved again to Indiana when Bill accepted a senior pastor position at World Gospel Church in Terre Haute, IN. After 19 years, Bill retired and we stayed on for nine years in a house we had built on 12 acres. During our time there I held a staff position at the local Crisis Pregnancy Center. In 2010 Bill contracted Legionnaire’s disease that accelerated dementia, later being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.

Southport Presbyterian Church, Indianapolis, Indiana

In July of 2017 we decided to move to Indianapolis to live with our daughter, Becky, a nurse, and her husband Paul. Each family sold homes and bought a house together. That’s where we are now with our “East Wing” apartment. We attend Southport Presbyterian Church where Paul is youth director. While we miss friends in former pastorates, we are satisfied with our move, adjusting to life with changes as we age and deal with Bill’s dementia. It’s “new every day.”

From Alabama and Louisiana to Mississippi, with long stops in Kentucky, we have settled in Indiana. From our roots in Wesleyan theology and membership still with the United Methodist Church, we attend a Presbyterian church with good gospel preaching. One former pastor of SPC often teases us by saying, “They let Methodists come here.” I tell him, “Yes, it’s because of you.” Through all these times God has been good to us.

This topic was inspired by a blog post I read from a writer friend Anna Holloway

The first song in the worship service Sunday morning had a line that captivated my thoughts. I’m not quoting, for this was a new song to me. But the lines spoke of Jesus’ tomb being borrowed for three days. I wonder how Joseph of Arimathea reacted when he found out that Jesus had risen from the dead and his tomb was empty. Joseph, “a righteous man,” had made preparations to place Jesus’ body in a “new tomb,” perhaps Joseph’s own tomb. This was done “late Friday afternoon . . . as the Sabbath was about to begin” (Luke 24:50–54). The tomb indicated a gift to be used forever. Jesus was dead. We do not think of tombs being borrowed and for only three days. It made connection with the sign Jesus gave them of Jonah being in “the belly of the great fish for three days and three nights” (Matthew 12:39).

Pastor Glen’s sermon centered on forgiveness, using Matthew 18:7–22, and it includes instruction on reconciliation that can be useful in church policies. As Pastor Glen gave possible illustrations, I thought of situations which had happened in our former churches and work places. Some turned out well and others didn’t. But we did apply God’s grace to forgive.

Not included in the sermon, but what gave me pause to consider, happened to be the emphasis Jesus gave about “little ones,” repeated in verses 4–6, and 10. I’m reminded of the recent film we saw: The Sound of Freedom, about children sold in sex trafficking. This movie heightened awareness of this evil in our world and in our own nation. I recommend it highly.

Pastor Glen also taught Sunday school with the Scripture on Luke 4:16-30 where Jesus read from the scroll of Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me” (v. 18). The passage emphasizes the fact that Jesus’ custom was to go to the synagogue on the Sabbath. Today we would say he was a regular church attendant. That’s another lesson for us. I’m thankful that even though we got started an hour late yesterday, we made it to both Sunday school and worship service.

When I served as a client service director at the Crisis Pregnancy Center in Terre Haute, I led the volunteer training sessions. One invited guest came from an adoption agency and she stated their mission and gave examples for how they carried it out. After she left, a prospective volunteer objected to how that agency operated, for she thought it was not appropriate. I asked the volunteer if the agency followed its mission statement. She agreed. Then we cannot fault the agency for adhering to their objective. They simply followed their agency’s plan and purpose, and we cannot judge them according to our preference.

I connect that exchange about a mission statement with two books I’ve recently read on writing. I almost quit reading them because of my beliefs, or I could say my prejudice. One author is a Buddhist and the other is a lesbian. I judged these authors by my standards, even though I firmly believe I’m right according to biblical principles. I would have missed some good teaching if I had stopped reading. I had to put aside my judgmental attitude in order to learn, although I’ve not forsaken what’s right and biblical.

This attitude I can also apply to how I view people––the way they dress or present themselves in public. For example, I have to be careful how I scrutinize those who lead worship. Their service is not a performance but an act of worship, and my part is included. One particular Sunday morning at church, four ladies led us in singing. I share honestly my first reaction as I viewed the platform: We have a fashion show displayed, for each lady wore a different outfit. Some I thought inappropriate, and that’s where my judgmental attitude showed up. I changed my focus and my act of worship improved. The songs had beautiful meaning, so I vowed to concentrate on worship, not performers.

Reading the book, Jesus Revolution, has helped judge my attitudes, especially in regard to preferences. You might have seen the movie. Both media tell the story of God’s power in bringing revival to young and old, educated and not so, those with traditional values and others who didn’t quite fit in. This spiritual awakening happened in the 1960s and 1970s and gave hope for generations to follow.

Thus my prejudice regarding how we worship has been brought under conviction by the Holy Spirit. I still have my preferences. Yet I’m still learning––mission not yet accomplished––to respect people and not judge their preferences. This application may take a while, but my goal is to be obedient to God and His teaching. Perhaps you would like to share your experience with me. For I suspect I’m not alone in this learning process.

Tsunamis of change are crashing in upon us, smashing foundational truths, values, and institutions to smithereens. Views and behaviors considered abnormal five to ten years ago are the new normal today. Most distressingly, we are rapidly losing the next generations to the Faith that sustained and nurtured those who came before us.

The dizzying changes in our digital age begs a question asked by King David three thousand years ago: “When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:3). The easy answer is to point our fingers at cultural forces and influencers attacking and dismantling those things Christians hold dear, or to become warriors in the culture battles that rip our families, churches, and world apart.  

I believe Dr. William Coker has better answers grounded in the unshakable truths of Scripture, and yet more relevant than tomorrow’s headlines. Solutions to shoring up the foundations won’t be found in the White House, courthouse, schoolhouse, movie house, statehouse, or houses of Congress. They are found in the church house, your house, and my house. Dr. Coker comes right to the point in the title of his book: Let the Church Be the Church. 

If the light goes out in the churches, or those who belong to them, the darkness in our world will become that of outer hell. In his much-needed book, Dr Coker gets us back to basics that have long been forgotten in the churches’ mad rush to fill pews and coffers by appealing to the spirit of our postmodern culture. He cuts to the chase by taking us back to the New Testament Church that transformed the pagan Greco-Roman world. The author shows us how it can happen yet again, if we return to the basics he shares from the Scriptures. 

Dr. Coker answers King David’s question. When the foundations are being destroyed, only the righteous can do something about it. That’s why I count it a profound privilege, and even an imperative, to recommend his important book.  William Coker’s messages are born of a pastor’s compassionate heart, a theologian’s keen eye, and a culture influencer’s relevance to today’s issues. Reading his powerful sermons has caused me to reevaluate my own priorities and methodologies as a Christian leader. I think Dr. Coker’s messages will change your life, as well as those you touch. Read it, wrestle afresh with its transforming truths, and then buy it as a gift for your family, friends, and especially your pastor.  

Only when we return to foundational biblical principles, so wonderfully laid out by Dr. William Coker, can we ever restore the foundations of our families, churches, and communities.

~ Dr. Robert Petterson, Founder and President of Legacy Imperative, Inc.

I wonder if I have enough to write on this Memorial Day, enough creative words to honor this special holiday when we memorialize and salute those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for us and our country. Since I don’t have any family member who died in miliary service, it seems inappropriate for me to use this blog space for Memorial Day. But I write because of its importance.

I start with Scripture “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13, NLT). This, of course, applies directly to the sacrifice Jesus made for us all, as He gave His life that we may have eternal life. It also applies, without question, to any person who sacrifices his or her life for another. It’s the ultimate sacrifice. In the film Saints and Soldiers a closing scene showed a young soldier/missionary die from enemy fire so that two of his buddies might reach the miliary station where an English soldier gave his translation of a coded crucial message with the potential to save many.

Memorial Day is not about all soldiers, and any miliary person will agree. Many have survived the wars and with traumatic injuries to their limbs and minds. Sacrifice, yes, but they still have life, even though with wounds. And we are grateful for their sacrificial service. This day is to remember those who died in battle, and to honor their families. It’s for those who came back in coffins and those whose bodies could not be transported home or could not even be found.

I close with a link to this Memorial Day tribute made by President Ronald Reagan:

https://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=1J22M1NU&recip=521938269&aps=21a80b3afd601326b81d8e04ad8883bf5289c7424a2c7f00eaed3238ea16534c&lctg=521938269

https://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=1J22M1NU&recip=521938269&aps=21a80b3afd601326b81d8e04ad8883bf5289c7424a2c7f00eaed3238ea16534c&lctg=521938269

Above my desk is an art piece created by my friend Diane Prentice. It’s about choices and their direct affect on others. That tied in this morning with what I saw on the Bible app on my phone. Every morning I click on this app to hear someone read a daily Bible verse. Afterward three choices appear for a selection. Usually it’s easy for me to select one. This morning I could not choose one, for all three need my attention, and they connect with my husband.

1. “I can ask God to help me see people the way He sees them.”
2. “I can encourage people around me.”
3. “I can take care of someone going through a difficult time.”

First, I need help in seeing Bill as God sees him. The hardest distinction for me is to react to the disease of dementia and not to Bill, a person made in God’s image.

Second, Bill needs encouragement on a daily basis. He finds it hard to express himself in a slipping-away vocabulary. Family members, especially his wife, can replace his uncertainty with encouragement, words that affirm him. It’s too easy to mock him, expressing impatience. But helping with affirmation is the positive reaction. Just this morning he couldn’t find his wallet and handkerchief he keeps in the back pockets of his jeans. Not that he’ll need them; it’s just a habit left over from daily leaving the house for work. Bill did not say “wallet” but patted his back pockets and looked absentmindedly. So I got the point, did not dismiss it, and we headed to the bedroom where the search ended with finding the lost in a pair of jeans in the dirty clothes hamper. Bill’s face reflected delight.

Third, and a twist on our relationship with caregiving. Usually when talking about our situation, the word “difficult” is used by friends, but they refer to my job as caregiver. This choice on the Bible app reversed the emphasis to the one being cared for. Yes, Bill is the one “going through a difficult time.” And it’s time for me to apply that properly. Seeing my husband as the “victim,” so to speak, will turn my attention to him and not keep it for myself. It’s caregiving at its best.

Making the choice for all three options will affect others, especially Bill.