Dr Becky Towne

I'm reading a fairly short book by Jack Bernard entitled How to Become a Saint: A Beginner's Guide. I wasn't especially drawn to the book by the title but a friend of mine suggested that I should read it since I'm a "spiritual formation kind of person." Although it took me a while to get started, I have smiled and underlined a lot while reading the cheapest book I ever bought. I think I paid $1.92 for it. The price doesn't reflect the value.

In a chapter called "Perseverance," the author penned a simple sentence that has kept my mind working for days. "Remember that holiness belongs to the church much more than it belongs to individuals."

Bernard's simple sentence and profound perspective has helped me think that holiness as personal achievement misses the point. Holiness has more to do with being undivided toward God as a community of faith. What an interesting perspective. For the last few days, I've been asking myself questions like, "How am I participating with my community in our corporate desire to be undivided before God?" "How much does the 'pursuit' of holiness in the congregation look like love?" "How can I participate in the life of holiness even when others aren't seeing things my way?"

The little song "Holiness, holiness is what I long for . . ." has been playing in my head as an accompaniment to my thoughts. I guess I'm ready to suggest a change in the words: Holiness, holiness is what we long for . . .

One would think that a native Texan, who grew up in the Houston area, would adjust back to the heat of the South fairly quickly. Not so. In fact, I had to figure out how to shower here. Since the hot water heater is not close to the shower in my temporary quarters, in the mornings and at night I must let the hot water run a while so I won't freeze. In the afternoons, however, since the water pipes are in the attic, I must let the cold water run a while so I don't get burned. That's because the water in those pipes heats up a lot during the day in this hotter-than-normal weather.

The reason I had to figure this out was because the house I grew up in was built on cement blocks so the pipes could run underneath the house and stay cool (relatively speaking, of course). Those pipes could freeze during the coldest winter nights. I remember Dad going outside on those cold nights to turn off the water. Sounds kind of good about now.

I am adjusting and discovering new additions to my list of things for which to be thankful: air conditioning, cool water (eventually), temporary living quarters, and an indoor job.

Finally found my little photo cable to show more pictures from the Pandolph wedding showing me with the Sommers family, John Pandolph, and Elijah and Shawnna Pandolph!

Warm thoughts,
Becky