Mack Ames Books and Maine Moose Patrol

It’s October 31, 2019, and I’ve already had four conversations about how I “celebrate” this day of the year. Is it Halloween or Reformation Day? In the words of President Obama’s first Secretary of State, “What difference does it make?”

In some ways, I suppose it doesn’t make much difference at all. That is, in decent weather (which today is not), my kids dress up in costumes, go door-to-door, and politely say the magic words–“trick-or-treat” and “thank you!”–to collect exorbitant amounts of candy from willing homeowners in neighborhoods around local towns, or they participate in trunk-or-treat events at their school. We remind them that this is not an event to celebrate evil, and they understand that.

In other ways, though, we make a point of teaching our kids and reminding one another of the importance of Reformation Day. A coworker asked me this morning, “Which reformation day?” Noting that she and I are on “opposite sides of the ecclesiastical fence,” I said, “Martin Luther’s.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Well, same God. Same Jesus, same Holy Spirit.” And she’s right, but…

In 1517, when Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses, or discussion points, to the door of the church in Wittenberg, Germany, to initiate a conversation with church authorities regarding teachings that seemed in contradiction to God’s Word, he was met with resistance from the establishment. He had been reading the Bible for himself, and he’d found that Official Church Teachings about salvation were not in line with the Word of God. Concerned that the Church was in error and needed correction, he attempted to initiate discussion on the apparent inconsistencies, hoping to reform the Roman Church from within.

Among the teachings that concerned him were the selling of indulgences as a means of earning salvation, a practice most heinously conducted on All Hallows’ Evening (October 31), which deprived the poor and illiterate populace of any hope of forgiveness of sins, while falsely promising them such. Luther had found in the book of Romans that forgiveness of sin was a gift God’s grace, not something to be purchased by money: “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)

Rather than conversation, he was threatened with ecclesiastical charges for heresy for daring to challenge church traditions. Luther stood firm, though, declaring the Bible as the only infallible and authoritative Word for life and practice. His actions ultimately triggered the Protestant Reformation of the Church, defined by the understanding that salvation from sin is by Grace Alone through Faith Alone in Christ Alone: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9)

So what do we celebrate on October 31? For me, it is a hallowed Reformation. It is a remembrance of the men and women throughout history that have walked with the Lord, faithfully proclaiming his Word to this lost and fallen world. By the grace and mercy of God, I have been called into the kingdom of Christ. It is my humble duty to pray for my fellow travelers on life’s road, believer and unbeliever alike. That the former will remain faithful to Christ our Savior and know his love and sustaining power in their lives, and that the latter will be drawn into saving knowledge of Jesus, forgiven of their sin, and live as part of the body of Christ.

My wife grew up in Massachusetts, for the most part, and I grew up in Eastern Maine, for the whole part. She attended Messiah College in Grantham, Pennsylvania, where she met a woman from Baltimore with whom she struck up a friendship that has flourished to this day. I attended Covenant College in Lookout Mountain, Georgia, where I met a man from St. Louis with whom I struck up a friendship that has flourished to this day. (In truth, I have several friends who match that description–met at Covenant, are from St. Louis, etc.!) Those two particular friends, though, have a significant role in our lives that I’ll get to in a moment or two.

Now, being as old as I am, or as distractible as I am, I’ve forgotten where I was headed with this post, so you might just have to bear with me while I try to find my way. I remember one of the points I intended to make, and I recall a subpoint that presented itself, but my main thought has gone right out of my head, likely never to return.

The friend that my wife made was from a church in Baltimore that belonged to the Orthodox Presbyterian Church denomination, formed in 1936 as a response to the loss of fidelity to the Bible as the inerrant Word of God in the mainline Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). After college, her friend invited my wife to go with her to Japan to serve the OPC as a missionary associate, a lay worker that assists full time missionaries. Laurel, who did not grow up in the OPC or any church like it (but did grow up in a Christian family) agreed to go for a year, and arrived in Japan in 1992. After a year, her OPC friend left, but Laurel stayed.

Like her friend, I grew up in the OPC. In 1987, my sister Judi and her husband Paul went to Japan as missionary associates for three years. When I graduated from college in 1993, the Lord provided the opportunity for me to follow in their footsteps, and in early September that year, I arrived in northern Japan. The next day, I met Laurel.

Her OPC college friend, Gail, takes a little tongue-in-cheek credit for Laurel and me meeting. While that’s cute, Laurel and I are directly responsible for Gail meeting her husband. The college friend I referenced earlier was pining for love for someone living in Baltimore that had turned down his affections, and he had written to me about it. I was in Japan with my new bride, Laurel. He had a witty way about writing, and my bride and I enjoyed his letters so much that when he lamented losing out on a “blonde from Baltimore,” we turned to each other and said, “WE know a blonde in Baltimore!”

We introduced them to each other via email. Their correspondence began, and a year later, they got married. They’ve been married 20 years now, and remain dear friends with us.

I have no idea what made me think of this Throw Back on this Thursday, but there you have it. That’s enough for one day. My brother and his wife, and two of their sons and one son’s fiancee are in town and I need to see them.

I think I’ve written about my commute before.

There’s a small house in the town of Kenduskeag, situated just north of the town center on Maine Route 15. In typical Maine-speak, it’s just past the big red barn (with the blue-tarped roof) that got torn down last year, and just before a row of three mobile homes. I haven’t the faintest idea who lives there, other than the fact that it appears to be a family of five: Mother, father, and three elementary-school-aged children.

What has caught my eye about this house is the presence of Tonka Trucks in the front yard; a grader, a front-end bucket loader, and a large dump truck, much like the ones I had as a young boy. It also hasn’t escaped my notice that the three children seem to play well with each other with these toys whenever I’m driving by on my way to work, regardless of the weather. I especially observed that during the winter last year. Big snowbanks or small, dry ground or great mud puddles, they were always out there, talking, laughing, and playing, under the watchful eyes of their parents. They live on a busy road, but they respect the boundaries.

Of the dozens of kids of all ages that I pass on my commute to work, they are having the most fun. Rain or shine, these children act their ages. Their parents exercise appropriate supervision; not hovering, but not disinterested. It’s refreshing, and they’ll never know what this commuter thinks, because stopping to tell them would be weird and would probably freak them out.

On Saturday, October 19, our family went to Richmond, Maine, to attend a fall-themed open house that was being hosted by friends of ours that used to live closer to our neck of the woods of Maine. They’d moved down to Richmond a couple of years ago so that he could work for LL Bean corporate office, and it has made a better life for them in many ways. She and Laurel are good friends, their kids and ours get along well, and he and I are friends, so it’s always refreshing to spend time with them.

They had invited a couple of other families from the Bangor area, but we were the only ones to make the trip. The rest of the invitees were from the church that she and the girls attend in Portland. Two of the families that came are cousins of mine, and the other two families represented are friends of the hosts. I’d met one family previously. I’m not using names to protect the innocent. 🙂

The hosts live on a quiet street corner in a residential neighborhood. They have a pleasant back yard with enough room to play cornhole or Kuub, both of which took place while we were there. There is a public ball field and park behind their home, so the kids could play there, too. A couple of the kids played on the playground for a little while.

Our friends have set up a good concrete patio, complete with a sturdy firepit, and there was ample space for a dozen or so chairs to fit around the patio and pit. Hot soups and stews were supplied for our supper, along with homemade breads and biscuits. There were chips, veggies, and dips, cheese, crackers, and grapes for snacking. And for dessert, there was a S’mores Station: graham crackers, fudge-stripe cookies; Hershey bars, Cookies’n’cream bars, Reese’s PB Cups, and Nestle Crunch bars; standard-size marshmallows and giant marshmallows. Plus, there were beverages for all tastes: water, soda, cider, hard ciders, beer, and seltzer water.

The day was filled with conversations and laughter. That laughter was great medicine. We reunited with our relatives and friends, but we also strengthened newer friendships and established a brand new relationship. How humbling it was to meet our new friend, T, who introduced herself by saying, “You’re the people we’ve been praying for! I’m so GLAD to meet you!”

And that is something we’ve been hearing frequently this year. It demonstrates how intertwined the body of Christ truly is. We hear of a brother or sister in the Lord that needs prayer, so we pray. In God’s providence, we may meet him or her later on, and we see for ourselves the power of God at work. It’s an amazing experience that pierces the hardness of our hearts and fills us with fresh gratitude for the love, mercy, and grace of our Savior. We find ourselves saying once again, to God be the glory!

Do you remember Y2K?
The panic we all felt?
Everyone was going nuts
Expecting the world to end.

Computers ran the world “they” said,
And as the day drew near,
“All numbers will return to zeroes,
Crash all systems—we’ll be dead!” 

No one knew how to respond,
So, we prepared for emergency;
stashed away food, water, batteries
Then partied like t’was 1999
and waited to be Y2Ked. 

Didn’t happen, we panicked for nothing.
2000 came and went.
It was all a big, fat, nothing-burger 
Until last week; and then

Wednesday, 10/2/ Twenty-Nineteen,
When they checked the power at work,
Our wireless routers didn’t like it–
quit working just to be mean.

For three days and countless hours
Chef instructor/IT man scrambled
To find out what was wrong with our routers
To learn why our network was dead.

Try after try, while we waited and prayed,
Late on the 4th connections were made.
Nineteen years too late, router clocks were all zeroes, 
We finally found out, we’d been Y2Ked!

When trouble
  Assails,
   Then 
  Even storms 
Raging and 
  Fierce cannot 
   Alarm. 
  Loving, mighty 
Lord
Secures.

Day in and out their view is the same.
Concrete walls, locked doors,
Regulated life, till their time has been served.

For some it becomes home, and they fear the outside.
Others resist and refuse to adapt.
The resilient change what they can; accept what they cannot.

Crime is not required to imprison a mind or body. 
A begrudging character can limit as well as a cell.
Freedom comes to those that endure with grace.

Natural beauty moves my heart. 

Often cloudless spring days turn dark and dreary, but not this time. Azure skies, verdant trees and pastures—the splendor of creation breathtaking, and I am at a loss for words.

Wildflowers bloom along the highway, purple, yellow and white interrupting swaths of hay. Trees in the new green of spring. Young leaves flutter in the light breeze. My soul is stirred. I am poetic in heart, but not in writing. Words fail me. 

The air is warm and comfortable, like a lazy, midsummer afternoon. Forests and hills as far as the eye can see in the distance, framed by manicured lawns and brick buildings of a stately college campus. Glory!

Hospitalized February 6th
“It’s pneumonia and Influenza A,” she said the next morning.
“They want you and the boys tested. Love you; see you later.”
We did not speak again for six weeks.

Lungs and kidneys quit February 7th,
placed on complete life support, and coma induced.
I am quarantined with flu and cannot visit. 
Doctor calls, “She’s not likely to make it. This is the worst I’ve seen.”

Allowed to visit February 10th,
informed, “We almost lost her last night. She had a heart attack. I 
must be honest with you; I’ve never had a patient in her condition 
survive.”

I thank the doctor for his candor, add, “If it is her time to go, then we will find a way to go on, but…” and he turns to me…
“we have thousands of people around the world praying for her.”
“Then I will add my prayer, too,” he said. 

Doctor calls February 11th.
Reassures, “She’s fine,  don’t worry. I go off-shift tomorrow. 
I think your prayers are working.
For the first time since I attended her, I think she’s going to make it.”
I believe him. I thank him, hang up, and cry. 

Each step of the way she shatters expectations.
Surviving. Breathing. Walking. 
“Expect months in the hospital.” It was weeks.
“Expect months of dialysis, maybe a year, maybe a transplant.” Kidneys recovered. 

Thousands prayed, many gave, the Lord answered with a Yes.
In our deepest darkness, he carried us again, teaching us to trust always.
Next week, she goes back to work.
Once again, the Lord gave me my wife, my miracle.

My wife of 21 years nearly lost her life in 2019 from a horrific bout with flu pneumonia that caused her lungs and kidneys to fail, and then caused a mild heart attack that almost took her life. Her treatment and recovery have drawn us, our family, and our church family closer together in ways we never thought possible. As we have said from the beginning of this saga, to God be the glory!

Counting the days until the twenty-fifth,
He gazes longingly at all the trappings of the season
Really, though, he knows
It’s not about presents, trees, lights, and
Sugar-laden treats.
The true reason for all the celebration is the
Man sent to earth below from heaven
Above to die on a Cross for lost
Sinners.

All the wrath of God was poured out on this Man, bringing
New life to all that submit and believe that He who
Died for sinners now lives.

Whether mankind believes
In the Savior or 
Not, the
Truth
Eternally
Remains.