Jack's Blog

Oh, and happy birthday, too, while we’re at it.  This is one of those years when your birthday falls on Father’s Day, or is it the other way around?  Sorry I’m late with this post.  I started writing it in my head the Saturday before your birthday, but just now got it down on e-paper.

I was mowing my yard and I can’t mow it without thinking about you.  Every time!  For one thing, mowing to your specs is and was a tough assignment.  You had your standards and I’m not sure we kids hit them very well.  Plus, I think you loved your yard and loved to mow it personally.

My yard is big and irregularly shaped.  It takes a good bit of work trying to get to those nice, straight lines you always liked.  And I always hear your voice telling me not to use the whole mower, but only half to two-thirds of the mower blade should be cutting grass.  Using the whole mower leads to irregular cuts and missed patches of grass.  So, we only mow half of capacity to insure a good cut.

I remember that and try to follow your guidelines.  Even though I have a big yard and this makes a third to a half more trips up and back, I do it your way.   So, I think I got it all.  I even mowed part of my neighbor’s yard.  We have a bit of  a common area, my part is about 15% and he has the rest but sometimes he mows mine and sometimes I mow his.  I think it makes his yard look funny unmowed when my little strip is mowed.  I like to mow anyway, like you did.  Especially when the grass is thick and beautiful like it is now with all of our recent rains.

Just in time for your birthday, a freshly mown lawn.  It’s good to remember.

There’s too much to write about when it comes to my dad.  I’ll probably reminisce from time to time on this blog about him.  What a terrific guy, much loved and respected by us kids.  I’ll write sometime about how I still wrestle with a life cut short, yet lived long.  But for now, a little serendipity. 

Not too long ago, my cousin, Mary Fritts was cleaning out things from her mom’s estate and she found a few pictures and  things related to my side of the family so she forwarded them on to us.  She is Aunt Enne’s daughter and it has been fun reconnecting with her.  One of the items was an empty envelope.  It was empty, but no doubt had contained a letter from my dad  to his parents while he was in the navy. 

I heard very little about his military service. I know it was cut short because of rheumatic fever, resulting in him being discharged early.  He had lots of stories but I just don’t remember them all. Too long ago.  So, what’s so exciting about an empty envelope?  It was mailed from Corona, California, June 15, 1945.   You may not be able to read the envelope, (click on it to embiggen) but here’s what it says on the address:

Mr. & Mrs. J. E. Dorman   (That’s my Mom and Pop)
    Route #1 Box 467         (That’s Home)
        Denison,                      (That’s Heaven)
          Texas                        (Brother, That’s “God’s Country”)

An empty envelope, for sure, but so much info about Dad.  He had a great sense of humor, but unless you were around him at the house, you might not see it as much.  He loved his family, he loved his home town and Texas was the best place to be.  (Still is, Dad.)

My brother and I laughed and perhaps, cried, at the sight of the parentheses.  Dad didn’t write much, but when he did, he almost always had afterthoughts, insights, inside humor to share.  We noted it particularly on the envelopes, or on scratch paper from his desk, or blackboards in class rooms.  It shows how he was thinking as he wrote.  There’s so much more behind these words.  They cannot possibly contain the whole of the message. 

I have to admit, in my own writing, I see the same habits. I use them a lot (perhaps it shows a latent ADD trait?) when writing notes to friends and emails.  In fact, sometimes I have parentheses inside of parentheses inside of … well you get the picture.  I don’t recommend it as a writing style, I just find it difficult to stop. 

So, thanks Mary, for the real treat. You blessed us with your kindness in forwarding these things on to us.   And here’s to you, Dad.  It’s only an empty envelope, but it is so much more.  We miss you bunches, but know that you are enjoying the life, eternal, and as you always sang “joy unspeakable and full of glory”.  We certainly have yet to fancy that fullness of Glory, but we’ll do it, and see you, one day.

So, one of the nicest people ever, in the whole wide world, just turned 50. I’ve known her for probably 20 or more of those years. She has been on staff at Hope Chapel, helping keep the place running, helping keep the children’s ministry operating smoothly, loving people, loving kids, …  well, doing everything in the most joyful, loving way imaginable.

The Hope Chapel office was always bright and happy when she was around. (Come to think of it though, that’s the way I think it is, anyway but she made it better.)   Now, she works at the Texas State School for the Blind. I haven’t been to her classroom, but I suspect it is an equally joyous place. (in that frantic, laughing way). I’m glad she is there and using her gifts to bless the students and the faculty.

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We (the Dorman/Rucker families and Texoma country)  lost a treasure when Aunt Enne passed away last Friday (May 1^st). It is a big, big loss to us all. Very few are as kind, effervescent, involved in the community and out and out good people as she was. I see the picture for her obituary and I am immediately reminded of the too few times we traveled to visit the family in Texoma land to enjoy the one and only Enne.

She was the youngest of my dad’s three sisters. (Dad was the youngest of the 7).  When we visited grandparents in Denison, TX, we would see Fred and Enne at their house on Lake Texoma. The picture of Enne reminds me so much of grandma Dorman, those eyes, that chin and  nose – so much Grandma in there. Both were so warm and welcoming, so cheerful about life, or at least that’s my memories. Enne would tell us stories about her kids, then listen to ours with rapt attention and laugh and make us laugh at all the funny events. She was not a comedian, but everything that was funny was even funnier with her.

Her obituary lets us know how she was known and how active she was in the community: “Meme” was known as a fun and loving friend, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. She could also be very protective. For example, she was President of Peabody Elementary PTA, the McDaniel Jr. High and then Denison Senior High and when her children went to all three schools, she became President of the City Council PTA. “Shorty”, was small in stature but big in spirit.

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Ok, so I don’t like DST.  I’ll admit my prejudices up front.  I have reasonable objections on the most part, I think.    I don’t recall many people who think it is a good idea.  I have no idea who is responsible for making this happen, other than an act of congress and we all have different ideas as to whether they know what is going on or not.

I am a morning person, I like getting up early and getting ready for the day.  I love the back half of March because the early sunrise seems to make Spring deliciously enjoyable.  It just feels like spring.  For the last decade or so, it  may have been my favorite time of year.  Now, moving the date up to the first weekend in March has stolen most of those enjoyable mornings.  I consider this a theft of my mental well-being.

Since my wife and I have been leading worship most of our lives, we find that our worship team in specific, and churches in general are among the first to be “punished” by this change.  We are among the first to muscle it up and deal with the lost hour. We start preparations and begin our services an hour earlier, leading a smaller gathering of worshipers who somehow remembered to set their clock ahead, but find it harder to set their alertness ahead.   It’s only an hour!  You finally get used to it.  What’s the big deal?

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A good friend passed away this week. W. B. “Bubba” Pannell completed his coursework here on earth and graduated from this life to be with Christ on Dec. 31^st, 2008 at the age of 87. Bubba’s wife, Annette, preceded him in death by some 5 years or so, I think. Two sweeter people I can’t imagine. I joined a host of people who gathered at the family gathering on Saturday the 4^th of January to mourn our loss and celebrate his life. We laughed, cried, renewed friendships and heard many stories about Bubba and his family. I can’t remember the first time I met the Pannells, but it had to be in my undergraduate days at the University of Texas, somewhere around 1968-1972. I can’t remember exactly because once you met them, you were immediately absorbed into their family and then you couldn’t remember when you didn’t know them. They loved everyone and made us all feel like we were their very own kids. They lived and modeled family for so many of us as we attended UT.

What an incredibly joyous man. I can only picture him with that great big smile and laughing eyes. Every Sunday morning, every Sunday evening, every church function, he was there, happiest in the gathering of the people of God.

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Ain’t life grand?  I laughed this week while reading an article about irritating phrases.  It seems researchers at Oxford compile a database of words and phrases, monitoring usages and practices.  This list appears in a book called Damp Squid by Jeremy Butterfield.  I haven’t read the book but I found the list worth a comment.  Hopefully they won’t mind if I give you this list since you can find it in the link above.

The top ten most irritating phrases:

1. At the end of the day
2. Fairly unique
3. I personally
4. At this moment in time
5. With all due respect
6. Absolutely
7. It’s a nightmare
8. Shouldn’t of
9. 24/7
10. It’s not rocket science

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Yesterday was a high day for me.  We publicly named Geno Hildebrandt as Senior Pastor of Hope Chapel.  Here are some photos from the service.  (Thanks, Dave Huss, for the terrific photo account of things.) After 30 years at Hope Chapel, leading worship, eldering, pastoring, it seems that the Spirit is saying “time to do something else. ” We don’t know the something else yet, but we are Abrahamic in our journey, trusting God.  In the meantime, it is a good thing that Geno is stepping into the senior role.

It was a treat for us to invite Dean Smith to speak  at Hope Chapel.  Dean has become a good friend in the last few years. I audited a preaching class from him and learned of his love of the scripture and his excellent skills in teaching.  Dean grew up in the Church of Christ tradition and we at Hope Chapel have been blessed by good relationships with the Churches of Christ.  Dean blessed us by telling us his perception of Hope through the years and by challenging us to embrace the leadership God has given us.  Dean is currently leading a ministry called Urban Connection Austin.  Thanks, Dean. It was a terrific sermon and we are so glad you joined us for the installation service.

A couple of things stood out to me yesterday.  As I was preparing for the service, it struck me how blessed I am to have Geno as a friend, for us to be pulling for each other.  I am very happy to be entrusting our family with Geno.  He is a trustworthy pastor, a God-fearer, one who will lead us well.

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Quick Blog entry.  We recently did a quick recording of some of Deb’s newer songs.  We wanted to get concepts down rather than produce a polished work.  Deb has been working on two Psalms lately, Psalms 3 and 4, for an exciting project led by  Dr. Mark Shipp at Austin Graduate School of Theology.   She ended up with two different versions for each psalm.  I like them for intercessory prayer times.  A few people have asked about recordings of them so we dropped the MP3′s to this blog.  I included Isaiah 52 and a version of the old hymn, Come Down O Love Divine.  It seems like the fastest way for friends to get a chance to listen to these new songs.  Let us know if you would like to see chord charts for them..

jkd

Psalm 3, You oh Lord are my Shield and my Glory

Psalm 3, Defender (how many are my enemies)

Psalm 4, Answer Me, Father when I Call

Psalm 4, Answer Me (Evening Song)

Isaiah 52, How Precious the Hope

Come Down, O Love Divine