Tom's Smile

One of the things I have always loved about Tom McIntyre is his smile.  It is an indiscriminate smile - one shared freely, whether he knows you or not - and it is coupled with eyes that literally light up as he does.  In fact, his eyes are part of his smile -  they go together.  In a way that leaves you wondering which of the two is most distinguishing. But then, that doesn't matter - because it's just the way it happens.  It's Tom's smile.

I couldn't say how many times I have enjoyed Tom's smile, but I can relate it to years. Since the late 70s, or over 30 years.  Back then, standing in the foyer of Northway Baptist Church, he used it on me a lot. In fact, the Sunday night I first 'flirted' with Belinda, Tom used it then. We were serving as ushers together, and I'd stepped in front of him to take her to her seat. I told Belinda I'd give her a nickel if she'd save me a seat by her (my line). Then, later, when I came back down the aisle to sit with her, there was Tom in my place - he used it on me then.

He used it on me recently, too! Standing amidst the back rows of ParkwayHills, while I worked the crowd. He had a tidbit, some story, some remark to remind me of days gone by, or something we once did, or some joke he'd just heard. His eyes twinkled and he looked at me with his grin, causing me to smile back at him - as a thanks for the humor and reminder not to take myself, or him, too seriously.

This morning, before I went to the church, I dropped by the hospital to check on he and Rita. I was pleased to hear he'd passed through the night without incident. Good news, I thought.  As I hugged Rita, she motioned toward Tom in bed, telling me to take a look. When I did, Tom's eyes lit up. I said to him, "Hey buddy, I love you - and I'm so proud of you." Then, it happened, he opened his mouth as if to speak - and I said, "Tom, this girl (pointing at Rita) saved your life."  "The day you decided to marry her was the best day of your life."  Then I winked at him, and... he smiled back and mouthed the words, "I know."  I started crying, and bent over him to pray, and Tom, smiling - with eyes lit up, squeezed my hand.

So it was a good day, today.  I saw Tom's smile. And for this I say...

Praise be to God!


Pastor Sam

Praying for Tom

In January of 1989 Dr. Bill Tinsley, Director of Missions for Denton County Baptist Association and an old friend, dropped by my office at Northway Baptist Church to ask me to pray about starting a new church in the growing area where Denton, Dallas and Collin Counties converged. One of the first persons I told this to was my long-time friend, Tom McIntyre.  So that as things continued, the first couple I sat down with to ask if they'd consider being a part was... Tom and Rita McIntyre.  I met them in their home on Briargrove, the one they still live in, and Tom said, 'yes,' but agreed - upon Rita's urging, that they would pray about it first.

That was Tom, both then and now. For he was never one to labor too long over any decision, major OR minor.  When he decided to marry Rita, after years of being a staunch single adult, he did - as quick as he could.  And... when he decided to help launch a new church, he  did that too, as quick as he could.

Tom's home was the place we held our first 'Core Group' gathering. It was Tom's business that housed our church for its first 6 months - calling it, affectionately, "Car Church".  And it was Tom and Rita who led the way in mission spirit by being first to say, 'children matter' - as much, if not more, than we adults - and have lived to show this by serving as 5th and 6th grade SMBS teachers for the past 21 years.

Every year Tom would dress up as 'Santa Claus', then invite all the PHBC children to come to his home to see him (Santa), with no one knowing, or perhaps daring to ask, "where's Tom?"  And every year - Sunday after Sunday - Tom and Rita would come faithfully to church. If in town, they'd be at THEIR CHURCH, always expecting God to do something great, and HE DID.

Over 15 years ago Tom and Rita began to feed the homeless with a friend he'd met from Park Cities Baptist Church. Today, that friend has gone home to be with Jesus, and Tom and Rita have carried this ministry on. A ministry where 1000s of homeless know that Jesus loves them because Tom does.

Today Tom and Rita finished their Saturday run on the Katy Trail. Tom had run it every day this week, logging 52 miles, but today he ran it with Rita.  As they drove up the alley toward their garage and home, Tom suffered a major heart attack. Rita administered all the CPR methods she could, garnering instruction from the 911 operator until Paramedics could arrive - and, once there, the medics worked with Tom to attain some response.  Now, Tom is in the hospital where the best team available is working to save his life. The next days are critical.  His heart and pulse must stabilize - and they will monitor all activity, including the brain, for the next hours before proceeding with any next steps or surgery.

So what can you do?  Well, I have been a pastor for 23 years - and Tom was my first parishioner.  I love Tom but am convinced that God loves him even more. Selfishly I want him to live.  I want to see him on the 'back row' of ParkwayHills again.  And I want to travel with him off I-30, in  near south Dallas, to pass out food and the love of Christ to those without a home.  So, tonight, I am praying for Tom McIntyre, and ask if you might join me in the same. Adding this, that God loves us all.  That He hears our prayer. And that the prayers of a righteous man avail much.

God is in charge, of this I am certain. But He also wants us - instructs us - to pray.  So... this I do.

Your pastor, praying...


Pastor Sam

Dallas, on this 'Silent Day' of Passion Week

According to scholars, today - the Wednesday before Easter - marks our Passion Week calendar as, Christ's "Silent Day." After a Sunday of 'Triumphal Entry' - with a quick look around at the Temple, then, at least 2 more days of going to the same to cleanse, correct and teach, many believe Jesus spent this day back in Bethany with his close friends and associates. And, because no specific events in our gospels point to having occurred on this this day, it is called, "Silent."

As I wakened this morning from yesterday's horrific destruction across our city, this word 'silence' spoke volumes to me. For yesterday brought frightening tales - stories of people huddled in bathrooms and under stairs as homes and property ripped from around them. Stories of grandparents and friends clinging to children and pets as wind gusts exceeded 150 miles per hour. Then, familiar descriptions of - "the sound was 'like a train,' and, 'I could hear nothing else - not even my own voice, it was so loud." So that I understand what is meant when some say, silence is powerful. For today, the North Texas silence I hear - is - not just by contrast, but by possibility - especially after last night.

In reality Jesus was never silent. His very coming bore a message from the megaphone of God. So that whether he sat on a hillside alone or preached to hundreds from a boat, both hill, water and boat gave witness that the Creator of the Universe had passed. And now the fact that no story of Christ's action hails from this day does speak - reminding us that God is always communicating - on days of storms and days that follow.

So on 'Silent Days' we may speak, too. We may give thanks to God that life is spared, that across the meteroplex and Dallas love still reigns and that - though property is lost - people are yet kind, caring and compassionate. And, that today... we might have one day more - one 'Silent Day' more - to give Him praise.

To Him be Glory forever!

Pastor Sam

25 Hours and "Waiting"

I am sitting in my home absolutely blown away that no one is here right now, save me. "Am I supposed to be somewhere?" "Did I forget something?" Such are the thoughts of this FOB (Father of the Bride) as I count down to my daughter Taylor's wedding tomorrow.

Of course I used to enjoy the movie of that same name, the one starring Steve Martin titled, "Father of the Bride," but, then... I became one - and, well, lately it has just been too painful for me to watch.

So as I sit here today, I am for the moment lost in thought. Thoughts about the wonderful journey that brought me here. Of the day Taylor was born and of her first Christmas. Thoughts of her climbing into her red wagon to 'go with Dad' as we canvassed the Willow Bend neighborhoods leaving off flyers and inviting folks to 'visit' our new church. I thought about her sitting in my study and 'warting' me with her incessant talking as I tried to finish a paper for seminary, of her playing soccer and leading the charge, and of her on 'center-stage' acting in a school play. I thought about her first time of riding a bus to school - and me following that very same bus in my car all the way - and I thought of her going on her first date, her first day of college, and her first everything, and me, well... waving good bye and waiting.

So as I sit here now - waiting for my next assignment, my next duty, and my next place to be - I am also waiting on Taylor and tomorrow, when I will walk her down the aisle. I guess I have been waiting on her all of my life. Yet isn't that what Dad's do? (LOL) with feigned and feeble 'tongue in cheek' complaining. For it has been a great ride. One I would not have missed for anything in this world.

Pastor Sam, Father of the Bride

This Morning's Prayer

At 'five-thirty' this morning I climbed into my truck and ventured - not far - but to the church and my day. Within moments after leaving home, I sat in our church's lot - where before me waited the large, silent, buildings lit by street lamps pushing back the dark. Sitting there I looked across her full scope to reflect upon the daily activity these buildings bear. I thought of the hundreds of people who enter and exit each door, of the stories, laughter and prayers heard, and of thoughts never expressed. I thought of my friends, of acquaintances, and of the powerful, insignificant and unknown - and, how, in just a few short hours, the lamps would be off, the dark would be gone, and the building would be bustling anew.

Just hours before I had walked down her halls - by the choir rehearsing near my office and into the youth room up the north-most stairs. In my walk I witnessed the unsure ways of teens and the determined ways of musicians, leaving one peer group for another more certain and work and office so gladly behind. Just one day before I stood in our Worship Center addressing 120 preschool Dad's, where I challenged them to love God absolutely, their wives passionately and their children unconditionally. And... had on the same night peeked in on a National Charity League chapter while planning, a Women's Bible Study sharing, a Boys Scout Troop learning, and a Dance Class busily tapping. So that as I looked upon the church this morning, I wondered what these buildings might say, if they could. Would they groan with pain - as some might think - or sing with utter joy?

A few months ago, as Belinda and I were visiting in New York City, we walked about Manhattan's Mid-Town with a vengeance. From 37th on the south to Columbia University on our north, we traversed above ground to see it all. We had a great time, but, to Belinda's dismay I could not stay out of the churches. They all interested me. Big ones, little ones, young ones and old - I was drawn to both their architecture and activity - or - in some cases, lack thereof. What made some busy? What made some not? What made some historic? And what made some just, well, old? Two churches stood out - one near the southwest corner of Central Park - Holy Trinity Lutheran (65th and Central Park West) - with a gorgeous red door that said 'come in,' and another some 45 or so blocks to the north - The Cathedral of St. John the Divine (110th and Amsterdam). For both were a sight to behold! In checking news about them on-line today, I found the cathedral strapped for cash and attempting to plan a real estate development on its property's north end, and the other - Holy Trinity - readying for an event they are calling, 'Treasuring Life' - in which they have planned four evenings focused on treasuring one's self, other's, creation, and their church. MMMMM????

It's now after lunch and I am looking out my window - and, confessedly, wondering of us. What will the ParkwayHills church family be doing when we reach 120 years old? We, a church yet to reach 24 years and in many ways just begun, what is said of us now?

Last week a lady from our community stopped me in the store to speak - she said she wanted to thank me for ParkwayHills, then started, "pastor, I am not a member, but I found myself in the church four times last week." I asked her, 'and what were you doing?' To which she replied, "well, twice I was listening to and studying God's Word, once I was praying with a group of friends, and the fourth time I was working with a charity league that serves our community." I said to her, 'good.' Then added, 'would you pray with me that what you experienced here last week will be the same as what will be experienced from this place ALWAYS?' She assured me she would.

Will you?

Pastor Sam

'MORE' - from the book of Philippians

This Sunday begins my first message series of the new year 2012. It is taken from my study and prayerful application of Paul's letter to the ancient church at Philippi. Since my first reading, now many years ago, I have always loved this particular letter. When I read it I sense Paul's joy, to which he early-on refers, and now - as your pastor - that very joy has become my own.

The letter talks about things that are close to me, not the least of which is the gospel itself. And, today, as I sit amidst that which is transpiring about me, the partnership these Philippians shared in is something of which I am acutely aware. For, gazing out my window I see construction workers busy preparing a building that will house children soon to hear and receive the gospel from within new walls. Listening through my door I hear sounds of mothers picking up children and learning news of Women's Bible Studies yet to come -'one just for them!' And reaching for my desk I touch my Bible to read from God's Word, the same Word which will be proclaimed this Sunday and throughout each day of this coming year - or til Christ comes. So that I literally tremble with anticipation of both what is, and, what is yet to be.

Philippi was established in 356 BC by the Macedonian King, Philip II, and was abandoned in the 14th century after the Ottoman Conquest. Sitting at the headwaters of the Aegean Sea, in Eastern Macedonia, it was a strategic site for defending neighboring mines containing gold. Describing its geographic locale today, one would say it sits west of Istanbul and north of Athens 400 and 350 kilometers respectively. Population estimates of Philippi in the time of Paul range in the neighborhood of 300,000 inhabitants, though these numbers are hard to authenticate. Regardless, it was of significant size to attract the attention of Paul, to bear historical mention of commerce and trade, and to house a Jewish population of enough size to garner the beginnings of a new - and ultimately, very successful - church.

But beyond this, let me just say - Paul loved this church. The Philippian Christians were not perfect, but they did serve a perfect God. They were those who had been saved by Him sending His Only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for their sins - and unto the proclamation of this great truth and the building of His Kingdom their attention was now fully turned. Yes, Paul loved them, gave praise for them - but... wanted for them MORE.

So that this is what I think of when I think now of ParkwayHills. We are a commendable church too - maybe not always, but certainly on most days. And as I complete this first message - the one Ill bring this coming Lord's Day, I simply must say I, too, am ... "thanking my God in all my remembrance of you." Indeed - ready to have us learn of the MORE God has for us as we serve Him faithfully here.

Till then,

Pastor Sam

A Winter's Reflection - 'Sunny and 55'

There's no better forecast for me when it comes to enjoying winter in North Texas than "Sunny and 55 degrees." Of course, I know my feelings concerning this might be contested, but, I'm the one who's writing this BLOG, so...

'Sunny' means the sky is clear - usually a deep blue. 55 for a 'high' means that it was likely colder than this last night - making the morning temperature crisp, perhaps at or near freezing. And clear means that winter allergies - certainly the lesser of our Texas allergy season's - are now at a minimum.

'Sunny and 55' means you can stand on a hillside with a jacket on, especially if there's no wind, and enjoy being outside. Or, Sunny and 55 means you can sit in your favorite chair - the one by the window - enjoying what you see. Sunny and 55 means you can ride your bike, go for a walk, a jog, or even play golf. And, in December, It means you can work in the yard without pressure of mowing it, plant flowers, prune your roses, or trim your trees.

Bible historians have estimated the calendar date of Jesus's birth at varying times of the year, and recently the date 25 December has come under suspicion. But, suffice it to say, since the time of John Chrysostom (4th century BC), or, for the last 18 centuries, the church has chosen to celebrate Christ's birth on December 25. If this be so it would have been wintertime in Bethlehem of Judea, with weather much like that of a North Texas winter's night. Much like that of last night.

So, if I'm wrong - then I am. But, in my mind, I have always imagined Jesus being born on a clear, cold, winter's night - with the following day presenting itself as... Sunny and 55. A good day, indeed! For on that day, 'unto us' - regardless of what else might be - 'Christ was born.' And today, with the weather at my house 'Sunny and 55,' I am rejoicing.

Your's,

Pastor Sam