Pastor's Blog http://www.lwumc.com/ en Pastor's Blog http://www.lwumc.com/typo3conf/ext/tt_news/ext_icon.gif http://www.lwumc.com/ 18 16 TYPO3 - get.content.right http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss Tue, 01 May 2012 06:16:00 -0700 Survey says... http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/survey-says/ I have a love/hate relationship with surveys. I am generally opposed to congregational surveys...

  •   There is a spiritual expectancy in the air. People are watching and expecting God to do something amazing.     

    •   LWUMC focuses on God's abundance, not on your lack of resources. 

    •    LWUMC’S mission connects with people's compassion for others who are suffering or spiritually estranged from God. 

    • People discipline themselves to look past troublesome cultural, situational issues in order to focus on bigger issues, such as inviting people into the experience of God's grace. 

     Though we have only begun to look at the results, the short summary report below provides a snapshot. As with all surveys, there is rarely 100% agreement on any given question. However, the results were based on responses compiled from approximately 20% of our congregation, a mix of paid and unpaid leaders, and members and participants, with a reasonably representative sample across age groups and tenure at the church. Of the four critical capacities for multiplying thriving ministries, LWUMC is strongest in terms of Spiritual Intensity and is most challenged in terms of Cultural Openness. Spiritual Intensity In many respects, LWUMC is on fire in its love for God, but there is also some hesitation to go the full mile. It is well worth exploring what is limiting us in the area of Spiritual Intensity. We are so close to having the fuel necessary to multiply ministry. Missional Alignment
    Many folks at your church have a good sense of where God is calling us to go, but others are not aligned with this point of view. As a congregation, we struggle to find the personnel and financial resources to run in so many directions at once. Now is a time for serious conversation about LWUMC 's priorities.
    Cultural Openness
    On one hand, many in the church want to reach diverse people, but many in the church still have great apprehension about what this might mean in terms of changing the face of LWUMC. There may be some limitations in terms of how far the church is able to reach toward different kinds of people in the next few years. Open communication will be critical.
    Dynamic Relationships
    In some respects, your church has seen some amazing relationships and friendships across the years. However, the DNA of these relationships is not currently indicative of the church as a whole. We have some work to do in terms of cultivating trust within the church and relating effectively to folks who are different from the majority of the members.
    Some may find it difficult to hear anything that sounds critical of the church we love. However, each of us in the church are, as John Wesley said, on our way toward perfection. As each of us open ourselves to God’s sanctifying grace, the church will also bear evidence of the social and personal holiness to which God calls us. Our leadership team will be studying the results in more detail in the next few weeks. As we do, I invite you to pray regularly for our congregation and its leaders. Peace, Pastor Kelly]]>     kelly@lwumc.com Tue, 01 May 2012 06:16:00 -0700     Falling in Love Again http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/falling-in-love-again/ Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;... Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
    As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
    That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
    Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new…
    Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
    Except you'enthrall me, never shall be free…
                                        - John Donne Recently, I heard a pastor say, “some people fall in love with Jesus’ community (the church), before they fall in love with Jesus.” In other words, some churches are great at welcoming and loving people. They may even do an excellent job of sending people out to serve and meet the needs of vulnerable in the community. As such, they attract people who are looking for community, acceptance, and purpose. Attraction often leads to infatuation, and even steadfast commitment. However, the same could be said of many 501-C3 charitable organizations. So, what’s the difference? It would be incredibly arrogant to claim that God only works in and through the church. It would be equally arrogant to say that God only blesses the church. If you have any familiarity with churches, you know that churches are not perfect utopian communities free of disagreements, pettiness, and prejudice. So, what compelling explanation could you offer to describe the difference? If someone asked you why you’ve thrown your lot in with LWUMC, what could you possibly tell them that would set us apart from a service organization? I would say the church isn't just a place to make friends; it’s a place to learn how to love one’s enemies. It isn’t just a place that tries to accept everyone, it’s a place where everyone should be told that there is Someone who is absolutely head over heels in love with them. It isn’t a place to show how good we are, it’s a place to acknowledge how broken we are. It isn’t just a place to help others; it’s a place to find the boundless joy that comes from sacrificing for others. It isn’t just a place to find friends; it is a place to fall in love with the infinite source and example of perfect love. LWUMC is a warm, welcoming, friendly church. Many people have created deep and lasting friendships here. With so many opportunities to serve the most vulnerable in our community, I won’t even begin to name them here, and though it may not be true for everyone, many find it easy to fall in love with this little part of Jesus’ community. Maybe you’re a person who fell in love with one before falling in love with the other. Maybe you’ve fallen in love with one and you’re not sure about the other. Either way, I want you to know that we’re not just another 501-C3. We’re a 501-C3 that began when a small group of first century Jews fell so in love with Jesus that they were willing to give their whole lives for the sake of loving others in the name of the “three-person'd God.”                          - Pastor Kelly]]>     kelly@lwumc.com Sun, 01 Apr 2012 00:00:00 -0700     Dodge Ball Lessons http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/dodge-ball-lessons/ Like most things, the game of dodge ball has changed since I was a kid. I remember the game as...  
    I remember the game as a something akin to Roman gladiators and unarmed slaves being thrown into a room, where the only rule involved not crossing the middle line. There were two red, playground-certified, rubber balls, about the size of a soccer ball. Teams were chosen by captains (e.g. kids with plenty of growth hormones), which meant the weakest and slowest (i.e. kids like me) were chosen last. The two teams consisting of 10 - 12 players would face off against one another in a dimly lit room that was slightly larger than a two-car garage. The captains and other gladiators would tell me and my last-chosen compatriots to stay in front of them and not to duck.
     
    I don't think they knew the term human shield, but they certainly understood the concept. After being quickly and painfully eliminated, we shields would go sit on the sideline and hope that none of the gladiators would not catch a ball and choose one of us to call back into the game.
     
    Thanks to my children, I recently gained a new perspective on the 'game'. Dodge ball is one of a dozen or so before or after school activities offered at different times throughout the year. For a small fee, kids can play chess, run a marathon, paint, learn double-dutch jump rope, sculpt, etc. Among the activities, my children have chosen each year, dodge ball has been a repeated favorite. Having watched them participate in various organized sports, I would never have pictured them as the gladiators of my own youth. So, when I was given the opportunity to be (i.e. signed up as) the parent chaperone, I was eager (read, concerned) about what I was about to learn about my mild-mannered children.
     
    Arriving 45 minutes before school, my son and I walked to the gym, me following at a respectfully suitable distance. He had already instructed me that my role was simply to observe silently from the shadows. My real role was to be available to stay with the kids should the gym teacher have to leave temporarily for any reason. I imagined her frequently rushing one of the children to the emergency room after having been knocked unconscious by a ball thrown from close range.
     
    However, as I said, the game has changed. The thirty-something, new-mom, marathon-running P. E. teacher was standing at the dividing line on the side of the well-lit basketball court. This season, there are four teams that the P. E. teacher put together after the kids signed up. Two teams are scheduled to play for the first 20 minutes and the other two play the second 20 minutes. If a team is missing players, the P. E. teacher fills in the roster with members of the non-scheduled teams. Her choices seemed to be based on which of the kids had recently been absent.
     
    I knew most of the kids; either because they lived in the neighborhood, swam on the neighborhood swim team, played sports with, or were friends with one of my kids. I already knew that some of them were very athletic, but it wouldn’t take long for any observer to pick out which would have been the gladiators of my childhood: the quick and tall athletic looking girl who threw with a underhanded fast pitch motion; the solid-looking boy who looks like a future defensive tackle; the fast wiry kid whose little league baseball team made it to the state competition last spring; and a few I didn't know, but could tell they were strong and fast. As best as I could tell, the teams looked pretty evenly divided.
     
    Once she'd completed filling out the teams, the two teams put about a dozen grapefruit sized inflated rubber balls on the center dividing line, and then spread out on opposite ends of the court. Instead of a shrill whistle to start the game, the P.E. teacher turned on a portable sound system that pumped out some of the more energetic songs I've heard my children accompanying in the car.
     
    A couple of fast or brave kids from each team sprinted to retrieve as many of the balls as possible. Much to my surprise, the expected slaughter of the innocents never happened. The smaller balls, some of which were not fully inflated, could be thrown well by just about any of the kids. They didn't maintain their velocity for long, so they also seemed to be much easier to catch, which didn't happen often, because the P. E. teacher would continually remind them to strategically throw the balls low to avoid having them caught.
     
    I never saw any of the bigger, stronger kids take or even ask for a ball from one of their smaller, weaker teammates. However, I did see some of them run to the middle line to throw a ball in order to provide cover for a teammate who was picking up any of the balls now littered the court. As best as I could tell, there were no human shields and no gladiators. Some of the smaller kids didn't seem interested in throwing or catching; they just seemed to be enjoying the fact that they were hard to hit.
     
    When someone did get hit, they would line up on the sideline, but instead of being chosen to come back in, if an opposing team's ball was caught, those on the sideline would return in the order they got out.
     
    However, the thing that I found most surprising was what happened when the inevitable but surprisingly rare disagreement occurred: ("You're out, I hit you." "No, you didn't.") The P.E. teacher did not stop the game. She did not intervene as referee. The two parties met at middle line on one of the sidelines; turned back to back; and simultaneously said, "Rock, paper, scissors, one, two, three," turned and showed their hand. If the accused lost, he or she shrugged and went to the sideline. If the accuser lost, both rejoined the game that had continued in their brief absence. There was no appeal to the teacher, no continued protest, no celebration or boasting. Both seemed eager to get back into the game.
     
    I'm not so naïve to suggest that all of our adult conflicts could be resolved in such a simple way. Some issues have much, much more at stake than sitting on the sideline for a few minutes, but when I see how many professional athletes, elected officials and sadly, even denominational leaders deal with conflict, I wish we could all go back to elementary school. We might learn some important lessons: everyone has something to offer, character is the best measure of strength, and no matter what team we're on today, we might find ourselves on the same team tomorrow.
     
    Blessings,
    Pastor Kelly]]>     kelly@lwumc.com Thu, 01 Mar 2012 07:37:00 -0800     What Our Clothing Says About Jesus http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/what-our-clothing-says-about-jesus/ by John Harrell, Youth Minister for Christian Fellowship john@lwumc.com Wed, 01 Feb 2012 00:00:00 -0800 Being Occupied With Love http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/being-occupied-with-love/ Countless children have uttered the words, "I want to be a police officer when I grow...  
    Not long ago, one of my children announced, "I'm going to be a police officer…." Silently, I worried about their physical well-being. However, in the past few weeks I found myself worrying more about how a career in law enforcement would affect their spiritual well-being.
     
    Like others, I have been horrified by images of police officers committing violent and inhumane acts against nonviolent protestors. However, I am not willing to take these images and apply it to all those called "to serve and protect." To do so, would be akin to seeing all clergy through the lens of the clergy sexual abuse news stories.
     
    Though the victims are obviously very different, I condemn both acts as abhorrent acts of violence addressed in our baptismal vows. As Christians, God has given us the "the freedom and power to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves."
    Sweeping generalizations like, "The police are still beating non-violent protestors…" serve only to dehumanize police officers, and continue to set one child of God against another.
     
    I am aware that there is a culture of violence that dominates some police departments, a culture that feeds on the deep spiritual wounds of its members.
     
    I am in no way defending or offering excuses for these unconscionable acts of brutality. Rather, in support of my brother Rev. John Helmiere, my intent is to "generate love."
     
    John is the pastor of a new United Methodist faith community in Rainier Valley.
     
    John was recently arrested after participating in a nonviolent Occupy Seattle protest. Explaining why he was there, John wrote: "I participated in the port occupation at the behest of some of the most exploited and underpaid laborers in our city—the men and women who truck containers in and out of the port. Over the past nine months, the spiritual community that I convene, Valley & Mountain, has stood in solidarity with these drayage workers in their struggle for dignity in the workplace. We have listened to the truckers’ stories, held a focused study of the issues, attended a Port Commissioners meeting to demand justice from elected officials, and participated in a major rally in support of the workers’ simple requests for access to bathrooms, less toxic trucks, and basic workplace protections….I participated to stand alongside them."
    Throughout the day, the police stood by at a distance.
     
    But as night fell, John continued, "mounted police arrived on the scene and the police began to maneuver into position and adopt menacing expressions….Utterly terrified, I made my way to the line between the occupiers and the police, held my arms out, and began shouting to my occupation brothers and sisters: “Peaceful Protest Everyone,” “Keep the Peace,” “Do not respond with violence.” My brothers and sisters on the police force began advancing behind a wall of horses and heavy bicycles. I linked arms with a young man in dark clothing on my left and a gnarled grandfather on my right. We stood still until the officers approached us and began throwing their bikes into our bodies, shoving us toward the sidewalk. I stared into the eyes of the most aggressive officer, who was seething, and shouted above the noise, “Why are you causing violence to peaceful people? Think about your actions! Think about your humanity!” With an open hand, he rammed my throat. The old man to my left was attacked similarly and reached back with a cocked fist, but I yanked him back. A minute later, an officer threw me to the ground and punched me numerous times."
     
    After reporting the details of the beating, arrest, and eight literally painful hours of incarceration, John did not call for litigation or revenge. Rather, he wrote:
     
    "Here is what I am asking of anyone who will hear it:
    ·         Listen deeply...it will require humility and proactive encounters with those you tend to avoid.
    ·         Get upset...We must have the tenderness of heart to become upset when human beings are violated and oppressed.
    ·         Generate Love...I mean channeling that passion into creative and liberating action."
     
    Whether we agree with the Occupy movement or not, some things seem clear to me: police officers are definitely not part of the 1%; using brutal force and chemical agents on nonviolent protestors is unjust; and "God makes the sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust."
     
    Finally, since it's a bad idea to quote one verse of scripture out of context, in Matthew 5, the perfect ideal of nonviolent protest said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."
     
    With great love,
    Pastor Kelly
     ]]>     kelly@lwunc.com Sun, 01 Jan 2012 08:13:00 -0800     Room in the Inn http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/room-in-the-inn/ We were eighty-one miles from the one and only hotel we'd planned to stay in during our ten-day...
    A borrowed pop-up tent trailer had been our very comfortable home away from home. It might also have contributed to the air conditioner going out as we headed up to Snoqualmie Pass. Driving through Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana without air conditioning in August was just one of the memories. At the next exit, it would be my turn to drive. The big sky of Montana was putting on quite a show for us, with multiple lightning strikes to the North and East. Whitney pulled off at Exit 195/Racetrack Road. At the top of the ramp, we hopped out and switched seats, and that's when it happened.

    As I accelerated to get back on the Interstate, the engine complained so loudly that we could hear above the wind and road noise that we had endured driving with the windows down.

    I noticed that instead of the vents, somehow the A/C had been switched on. I shut if off immediately, but the noise did not stop. With a pit in my stomach, I pulled to the side of the road and told everyone to stay in the van. Afraid that it wouldn't start again, I refused to turn off the engine and went to check what I could. I didn't know if I should worry more about the noise or the ongoing lightening show. The transmission fluid was a little low, but everything else looked ok. As I slipped back into the driver's seat, I secretly wondered how much a new transmission would cost in the middle of Montana. "I can't tell what it is! But I think we should just all be quiet and see if we can get to the next town!" With my hazard lights on, I kept the speedometer at 40 mph, making the nine miles drive to Deer Lodge feel like an hour. I stopped at the first place I could. I started adding fluid just as it started to rain.  One of the employees stopped on his way back from the dumpster. He listened a minute and said, "that sounds like your water pump. I wouldn't try to drive it much farther."

    Whitney was already a step ahead of him. By the time I got back in the van, she had used her 'smart phone' to find a hotel in Deer Lodge. It wouldn't be what we were looking forward to in Missoula, but it would still be a luxury. When we pulled up, the parking lot was fairly full and the reader board welcomed contractors that would be building a hospital nearby. Whitney went in to see if they had any rooms, but returned almost immediately shaking her head. "They're completely full, but they told me that there's another hotel on the other side of town."

    With the engine groaning away, we limped back through town to find another full parking lot. "What if they don't have any rooms?" the kids asked while Whitney ran in. I tried not to make any more promises saying, "well, they probably do, but if not we'll figure something out."

    I could feel our collective sense of dread as we watched Whitney coming back to the car. "They're full too," she said. "But there's a KOA less than a mile away!" But for the few nights that we camped in the National Park, we had stayed in KOA campgrounds.
    We pulled into the KOA at 10 pm. Everything was quiet and dark. I told the kids to stay in the van while we got things set up. We'd become so adept at setting up the pop-up tent trailer, I hoped that Whitney and I could get it set up in less than 20 minutes without making too much noise, which is almost what happened. Just as we were about to get the kids out of the van, one of them tried to open the door, which set off the alarm. So much for slipping in quietly.

    Fortunately, my keys were in my hand, and I shut off the alarm within a few seconds. When we reached the van, the kids looked panic stricken until they saw that we were laughing.

    Settling everyone in, someone said, "This is not a luxury, but it reminds me of Christmas...you know, no room in the inn?"

    Now that Christmas is around the corner, that night keeps coming back to me. We certainly weren't the Holy Family. Indeed, I wonder if Joseph had been as irritated with the whole ordeal as I'd been. I doubt that anyone would consider it a luxury to deliver a newborn in an animal stall. Like our quiet entry, the Word became flesh, and as the original Greek word says, "pitched His tent with us." And like our quiet entry, God's entry into the world would not stay quiet for long. Alarms would announce the Messiah's arrival to shepherds on a hillside, magi in a distant land and even a paranoid King's palace. Somehow, those alarms have been silenced or perhaps we just can't hear them over the din of 'Season's Greetings.'

    This year, I want to tune my ear to hear the alarms and I'd like you to join me. Our sermon series is entitled "Christmas is not YOUR birthday."
    A title like that might make you think I'm going to preach about cutting back on our celebrations and giving less. I'm not. In fact, I'm encouraging us to add to our celebrations and give more.

    So, to add to our celebrations, you may already know that the Administrative Council decided some months back to host the Friends of Youth shelter, The  Landing. We discussed how we could be of service to guests of The Landing on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, and this grew out of that.

    To celebrate the Christmas spirit and the presence of God in the world, Lake Washington UMC will be welcoming all of God's children into the church building on Christmas Day. Not only is everyone invited to worship and share communion with us at 10:00 am and again at 7:00 pm, but we want to invite everyone, homeless and housed, to find room here all day long. Think of it as a birthday party that lasts all day.

    We will provide a congregational host (that means a person from the congregation will be here), meals, fellowship, and fun. We will need a lot of congregational participation to make this happen. Please contact Karina O'Malley at 425.739.7332, kcfom@hotmail.com if you can provide food at some point in the day, be present and welcoming for an hour or two, or have an idea for an activity. As to giving more, I hope you'll join me in giving a birthday present that can transform the world. Once you've determined the total you've spent on Christmas presents for your friends, family, coworkers, etc., calculate 25% of that total and bring it to church on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. Checks should be made out to LWUMC, but the memo line or envelope should
    read "Happy Birthday." The total amount collected will be divided, half going to Friends of Youth and the other half to Sister Connection, a ministry that builds homes and provides support for widows in Burundi.

    I believe that the "birthday" gift we give can make an enormous difference
    in people's lives as we seek to transform the world in the name of Jesus Christ.

    I look forward to celebrating with you all month long. Blessings, Pastor Kelly

    ]]>     Thu, 01 Dec 2011 00:00:00 -0800     What’s Your Story? http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/whats-your-story/ "Where have you seen Christ at work in your life this week?" This is the question a few... kelly@lwumc.com.  I find getting started is usually the hardest part. So, if it helps, you're welcome to pick up where I left off below, but feel free to write your own beginning. It is after all, your story.

    Grateful for your sharing, Pastor Kelly
    Quotes are from: Dancing With Words by Ray Buckley (Discipleship Resources: Nashville, TN: 2005 Second Printing) Christianity for the Rest of Us by Diana Butler Bass (Harper One New York, NY: 2007) ]]>     kelly@lwumc.com Tue, 01 Nov 2011 00:00:00 -0700     Learning to Prefer the Cross http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/learning-to-prefer-the-cross/ I am not a night person. I prefer to be asleep by 10 pm, so I can start my day at 5 am. So, why was...
    "I'm sorry. I just can't." As they left, another employee behind the counter said, "So you couldn't cash it even though it was a money order?"

    "Not when they have a returned check on file," he answered.

    He then looked at me, and I stepped up and explained about the missing streamers and balloons.

    "I'm sorry about that. Do you just want to go get them, or would you like a refund?" I went and picked out the same streamers and balloons and returned a few minutes later. He initialed my receipt and apologized again for the inconvenience.
     
    As I headed out the door, I walked right past the young couple now sitting by the grocery carts, discussing their options. It wasn't until I was halfway to my car, that I heard the voice in my head.

    Yes, your pastor hears voices. Ultimately, I believe it's the voice of the Holy Spirit, but sometimes it sounds like my own voice. Sometimes it sounds like the voice of one of the saints I've been blessed to know. This time it was the voice of one of the current leaders at LWUMC saying, "you know, you could give them a ride."

    I heard my own voice respond, "It's already late. I've still got to hang these streamers and balloons." As I got in the car and tossed the balloons and streamers onto the passenger seat, the conversation continued, "It's not too late to go  back and offer them a ride. Don't you think that would be the Christ-like response?

    I turned the ignition and answered, "This car is a mess, I've still got to deal with that present that promises "some assembly required," I drove out of the parking lot and the conversation ended. I had blown it. I had chosen not to help them. It wasn't because I was worried about my safety. I wasn't concerned that they might ask for money, and truthfully the car wasn't that messy. I just didn't want to be inconvenienced and risk staying up later. I chose my own comfort, my own preference and gave up a chance to live according to the way I believe Christ calls me to live.
     
    I believe that following Christ is costly. Indeed, I believe Christ asks us to give up everything to be disciples. Jesus told his disciples, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me." He did not say, "Deny yourself as long as it doesn't cost you anything," "Take up your cross when it's convenient," or "Follow me but only to places you feel comfortable."

    It's a recurring theme in my preaching that following Christ involves letting go of our own preferences, comforts and desires. Some people would probably say that's hypocritical. Others might come to my defense and with rationalizations that this probably wasn't a life or death situation and it might have been dangerous. And one or two would look me in the eye and say, "you blew it." Though they might say it more gently, these are the living saints who help me grow in my Christian discipleship. They do not claim to be perfect. They are not self-righteous. They do it as Christian companions who know that the Christian life is full of opportunities to deny our comforts, abandon our preferences and pick up the cross of love and service.

    Most of these companions have told me about times they chose comfort over Christ's call. They don't berate themselves and wallow in guilt. They do the only thing any of us can do. They confess, seek forgiveness and ask themselves, "What can I do differently next time?" Because Jesus will always lead us down roads littered with big and small crosses, and if we don't practice picking up the small ones, how will we ever be strong enough to pick up the big ones?

    I pray you'll be looking for a opportunities to love and serve others. I pray you'll choose to deny yourself and pick them up. It's not easy. Sometimes you may walk right past. You won't be the first one to do so, but there's probably going to be another one around the next comer. So, I hope you'll hear the voice of love ask you, "What can I do differently next time?"
     

    Humbly yours,
    Pastor Kelly

    ]]>     kelly@lwumc.com Sat, 01 Oct 2011 00:00:00 -0700     “What I learned on my summer vacation” or “Four kids, eight days, 2400 miles and zero air conditioning.” http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/what-i-learned-on-my-summer-vacation-or-four-kids-eight-days-2400-miles-and-zero-air-conditioni/ Though they didn’t rival the Clark Griswold (aka Chevy Chase) Vacation variety, we enjoyed our own... Pastor Kelly *National Park Service U. S. Department of the Interior, “Yellowstone Online Tours: An Official Web Feature of Yellowstone National Park. ]]> Thu, 01 Sep 2011 08:06:00 -0700 Get Ready, Get Set... http://www.lwumc.com/community/blog/single/get-ready-get-set/ “How many four cent stamps are in a dozen?” Do you need a hint? The answer is NOT three. I love... Pastor Kelly ]]> kelly@lwumc.com Mon, 01 Aug 2011 20:30:00 -0700