Author: William Douthwaite

Posted in Stories

Friends

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Briana Tozour on Unsplash

I had two youth in my Sunday bible class today. Two is not bad. Last week was one. Two weeks ago: zero.

Anyway, we were talking about David and Jonathan, who were some unlikely friends in the bible. Jonathan was the king’s son, so in any other situation, he would be the successor to the throne. But God had decided to give the throne to David. Despite the potential conflict, the two were great friends.

So our discussion was about friends. It was not an easy conversation. I asked, “What makes someone a good friend?” <silence> “Ok, what makes someone a bad friend?” Answers included rudeness and ignoring you. Some physical violence. <really?> More silence. Getting teens to talk is difficult.

“OK,” I continued, “Who makes you feel jealous?” (Like King Saul.) Or, “Who annoys you?” The consensus? Everyone. Well, at least we’re talking. “Everyone?” “Yes.”

I’ve heard this answer before. Everyone is annoying, undependable, dishonest, unreliable and a bother. Really? That is your world?

OK, what about Jesus? Do you ever think of him as a friend? The consensus is, “No.” So you never heard Jesus’ words, “I don’t call you slaves, but friends”? Nope. Is Jesus dependable? Most reply, “Yes.”

So they were raised in the church. Taught in the church. Confirmed in the church. And never considered Jesus to a friend? Interesting. And sad,. Why wren’t they taught that before?

What about virtual friends? You know, friends whom you’ve never physically met, but are friends with online? Yes, they all had a few friends like that. “What’s that like?” I asked. They answered, “It’s creepy.” That’s weird. Imagine having friends you’ve never met in person.

I told them that I still kept in contact with friends from high school and college. Friends from 45 years ago! Friends I barely remembered. The two in my class were only 14 and 12. They had no clue.

So I began thinking, “Who are my friends?” Who would I call at 2 am when I had to face a crisis? With whom can I share freely without any fear of judgment? Who will always be there to back me up?

Whoever it is, they are precious. Priceless. Golden. Worth more than anything.

Posted in shopping, Stories

50% off

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash

My wife found some nice home decor items at a local craft/hobby/home decor store. She had been waiting for certain items to appear on the shelves and when she did, she snapped them up.

On her way out of the store, another customer told her that those items would be on sale on Monday. If you bring them back, they will refund 50% of your purchase. I know, I thought it sounded too good to be true, too. My wife called and sure enough, that’s what they would do. And you couldn’t just bring your receipt. You had to physically cart the items into the store with the receipt, and they would credit your card.

We had already hung the items on the wall, but they came down easy enough. My wife loaded them back into the car, carried them back into the store, and drove them back home with the promised 50% credit.

Sweet. But I have questions. Why not just sell the items for 50% off. After all, a lot of stuff in the store is “50% off.” Why make them bring the items back in? The receipt isn’t good enough? Why can’t you do this whole thing online? You can do everything else online, from refinancing your home to buying a car.

Of course, I know the strategy is to get you back in the store. That’s why you get bonus bucks, discount coupons on your receipt and flyers in the mail. The more often you’re in the store, the more you’ll buy. Plus, how many people will actually take down the decor items and bring them back to get the discount and credit? I’m guessing not many.

That’s marketing these days. Drive traffic to your website. Get people into the store. Put wonderful items at the end of every aisle. Make people think they are getting a great deal. If they are willing to give you 50% back, think of how much that item was marked up to begin with!

Posted in preaching

Can I preach the same sermon two weeks in a row?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My thoughts here are partly tongue-in-cheek and partly “why not?” In thirty-five years of ministry, I’ve only got one sermon I’ve used more than once. It was a wedding message that someone heard and actually requested when he and his spouse renewed their marriage vows. Other than that, I’ve always prepared a fresh sermon for Sunday worship, funerals, weddings and special occasions like Christmas.

The other day I wondered, “What would happen if I preached the exact same sermon two weeks in a row?” Here are a few possibilities.

  • People tend to forget what they just heard. I’ll bet most people wouldn’t even know it was a rerun.
  • Many don’t attend worship weekly, so they wouldn’t hear it twice. Some folk would miss both of them.
  • Some would think, “This sounds familiar.” But they wouldn’t be able to put their finger on why.
  • There would have to be someone who would immediately react, “Hey, didn’t you preached that sermon last week?”

I remember reading about a pastor who preached a sermon several weeks in a row. When asked why, he said, “After the first time, nothing changed, so I thought you all needed to hear it again!”

A pastor friend of mine told me about one of his classmates from seminary who wrote fifty-two sermons for his first year of ministry. From then on, he simply cycled through them for the rest his career. That approach would free up a lot of your time.

I might just do it. I’m not going to tell when or where. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Posted in Travel

One boot

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Leonel Heisenberg on Unsplash

We must have walked by her five times. She was working in a small street corner kiosk selling carriage rides around Charleston for Charleston Carriage Works. Just part of the scenery. Until we decided we wanted to take a carriage ride around historic Charleston, South Carolina. We saw carriage after carriage passing us as we walked around. We wanted to hear about the area and the city from the guides, too!

My sister stepped up to reserve a carriage ride, leaving in just 20 minutes. We could head down to the stable any time. As my sister talked with the salesperson, I noticed she was wearing one cowboy boot and one broken ankle boot. Interesting. After we had booked our ride, I said to her, “You’re only wearing one boot. How are you doing?”

She replied, “Good eye! I had surgery a few weeks ago, so I have to wear this boot, so I don’t put too much weight on it. I still have four to five weeks of healing to go. Thanks for asking!” Everyone want to be inconspicuous and noticed all at the same time. Her job made sense. Don’t have to walk much. Generate lots of business for the carriage drivers.

I noticed she was wearing a boot company t-shirt, too. Doubling down with the tourists. Smart. Very smart.

By the way, I really enjoy our ride with Will and his horse named Mikey. A carriage ride is always a fun way to see a city.

Posted in death, Stories

No one will snatch you from his hand

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I headed out to the funeral home about noon today to do a funeral for a young man, age 24, who suddenly died a week ago. I knew him well from confirmation classes and wrote a letter of recommendation when he was applying for colleges. But in the last five years he had finished the academy and had worked as a police officer, a job he truly loved and was well suited for. His father had worked for the sheriff’s department for many years, and was very proud that his son had followed in his footsteps.

When I arrived at the funeral home, the parking lot was packed. The shoulder of the road out front was lined with cars, too. I found my spot a few hundred yards away and walked to the main entrance. The entryway was packed with sheriff’s deputies, police officers and detectives who had come for the visitation and the service. Everyone he played baseball with was there. His sister said, “Everyone we grew up with is here.” It was an inspiring show of support for the young man and his family.

The funeral director greeted me as I walked in. The first thing he mentioned was that their sound system had been damaged by a lightning strike. “OK,” I said, “I’ll project the best I can.” As my wife often reminds me, my voice carries, and today that would be a good thing.

The young man’s grandparents were seated in the back of the room. Because of health issues and Covid quarantines, I hadn’t seen much of them for the past two years. It was a wonderful reunion. A few other members of our church were there. They assured me, “Just let me know if you need anything.” It is always good to have someone watching your back.

I was surprised to see a friend there whose daughter had been good friends with my youngest daughter in high school. As a teacher, she knew many of the young people who had come that day. It was great to catch up with her.

When it was time for the service to begin, the director led me to the front of the room. After the casked was closed, a police honor guard draped the casket with the United Stated flag.

A funeral in a funeral home with a gathering of strangers is very different than a service in the church. I knew very few of those in attendance. I am sure they represented a wide range of religious experience. But the family had asked me to be there, and I would give them the best I had: the gospel.

I read some scripture from Psalm 139, Romans 8 and John 11. I assured them that God was with us in the best and the worst times of our lives. I emphasized that nothing, not ever death can separate us from God’s love in Jesus Christ. I reminded them of the relentless love of Jesus, and that no one can snatch us from his hand. I directed them to Jesus, who is indeed resurrection and life.

The father, sister, girlfriend and coworker spoke after me. They shared some wonderful memories of the young man’s life, relationships and friendship. Speaking at these occasions is tough. They did an amazing job.

After a closing prayer and benediction, the police honor guard folded the flag and presented it to the young man’s mother. That is always a powerful moment. The crowd then filed out to leave the family alone for a few moments.

Outside, I spoke with a few more people I knew. I also spoke with a local deputy who mentioned, “Ten years ago, virtually no one would have turned out for something like this.” His comment made me think about some of the things that have happened in the past few years. The police-fire-first responder community has grown much closer, providing much needed support. I was privileged to be there today, bringing what blessing and hope I could.

Posted in Stories

The people in workout videos never change.

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Colin Lloyd on Unsplash

Most of my home fitness exercise is done with streaming Beachbody workouts. I’ve done Insanity, Insanity: Asylum 1 and 2, P90X, P90X3, and most recently, p90X2. When you stick with a program for several months, you get to know the people working out in the video. I know everyone’s names and what they do.

Just recently I thought, “These folks never change.” They never improve. They always use the same weights and do the same number of reps. On the other hand, the more workouts I do, the better I get. I increase my reps and my weights and improve. I’ve never actually gotten better than any of the cast. But I am closing in on them.

So in one sense, these are real people doing real exercises on a set somewhere. But they aren’t really there. They aren’t really exercising with me. I’m in a room of people who exist in a different dimension. You know what? It’s like they are living in eternity! They never age, never die, never get injured, never get sad, and never get sick. They are always enthusiastic and laughing. In their world, I don’t exist. They don’t know my name. They don’t know I’m exercising along with them. Our existences never intersect.

Except on the internet. I can search for and usually find them on social media. I learn about their real lives. Guess what? They really do exist! They have full names and families and friends and careers. They’ve aged since they made their exercise video. Just like me.

Posted in Stories

Just a tad early

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Honey Yanibel Minaya Cruz on Unsplash

On the way back to my house after picking up my three year old grandson Daniel, we stopped at our local Pet Supermarket for a big bag of dog food and to look at the animals. The bells on the door rang as we walked in, and one of the associates said, “I guess the door’s open.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about, until he said, “We open at nine.”

I glanced at my watch. Eight fifty-five. “I’m sorry, should we wait outside?”

“No, that’s OK.”

After we grabbed the bag of food, we walked around to see the parrots, ferrets, lop-eared bunnies, and mice. But Daniel got the biggest kick out of all the parakeets. They were all skittering around, some singing, others just making noise. Probably telling us the store wasn’t open yet!

We’ve often taken the grandkids to pet stores. It’s a great way to keep them busy for an hour or more, especially when there are tanks and tanks of fish and lizards to look at.

Posted in Travel

Historic Charleston Market

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My wife and I spent a couple of days in Charleston, SC last week as part of the birthday celebrations for her and my sister. We had never been to Charleston, so it was a fun adventure that included a visit to the historic Charleston Market. The Charleston Market is a 200-year old brick market building filled with craft and food vendors. As we wandered through I especially appreciated many handcrafted items I hadn’t seen anywhere else.

I was fascinated by the wide variety of sweetgrass woven crafts. I was even more interested in watching the weaving happen right before my eyes. The crafters made every sort of basket you can imagine, in addition to wall hangings of every shape and size.

One artisan specialized in polymer clay pictures of egrets, crabs, turtles and lighthouses. Many of the works for sale were prints, but some original works were for sale, too. I looked closely at one and wondered, “Is that fabric?” The nice young lady working the booth explained that it was very thin clay crafted into unique works of art by the artist. I had never seen that before.

We happened across a young woman who had just procured a spot from which to sell her vegan mini-muffins. She was so proud of her work! We loved Emily’s muffins (@emilyeldh or themuffindrop on Instagram) and brought home half a dozen.

One sign puzzled me. “Please do not buy from roaming rose peddlers.” Then I saw one outside the exit. A young man weaving palm fronds into roses was actively marketing them on the street. Once it was in your hand, it was yours, for a price.

My brother and sister were especially interested in a booth that featured elaborate cross stitch renderings of famous Charleston places like Rainbow Row. I think they bought some Christmas gifts there.

The market was not crowded on the Monday morning we visited. Many of the booths had signs announcing “no photographs” so that no one would steal their ideas for painted tiles, handmade jewelry, hand-carved wooden plaques, and dog breed pillows. I was tempted. But I refrained.

I like the venues where I can talk to the artisans and learn something about them and their craft. I wonder what I could sell at a booth like that?

Posted in pastor

They’re probably talking about me.

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It is once again a season of growth for our community and our congregation. So, I find myself out visiting a lot of individuals and families who have come to worship with us and expressed an interest in our church. With at least two first-time guests each week, this is keeping me pretty busy and pretty much out of trouble. For now.

In the course of conversation, folks will share their church background and experiences with me, including what their last pastor was like. Sometimes he or she was awesome. But more often than not, I hear a lot of disparaging comments about ministers and ministries. Some of the stories are unsettling, including tales of affairs, embezzlement, addiction and fraud. Others are filled with disappointment, discouragement and disgust.

These conversations always make me feel a little uncomfortable. I do not need to be reminded that every single pastor is a sinner in desperate need of grace. I already know that from personal experience and reminders from those who know me well. I also feel sad as I sit and listen. I’ve had great relationships with a lot of people in the church. I wish more had similar experiences.

The thing that occurred to me the other day was that on any given day, someone is probably talking about me that way. No, I haven’t done anything illegal. But I know I’ve angered, disappointed, aggravated, irritated, ignored, dismissed, insulted, and confused many who have come through our doors. They’re not telling their next pastor nice stories about me. I’m the one who let them down.

It’s good to keep this in mind. It’s humbling. It reminds me not to think too highly of myself. It also sternly reminds me that my self esteem is not built on the failings of others. My worth comes from Christ’s love for me.