Testimonials

Dean Chandler

After being elected to Church Council, I found a book in my mailbox entitled “Ask. Thank. Tell.” by Charles R. Lane with a note: “All Council Members must read.” Being the awesome Council Member that I am, and my fear of Pastor’s wrath, I began reading right away.

If you would like to understand your role as a good steward, this is the book to read. This is book will move you! It definitely moved me. After reading this short book, I immediately realized that Leslie and I were not giving our tithe (10%). Knowing that I needed to do something, and also realizing that Leslie is responsible for all things financial in our home, we needed to have a talk.

After a successful discussion, we decided to give more. Now we couldn’t go from what we were giving– i.e. the ”Lutheran tithe” of pay all bills first then give 10% of what’s left– to a full 10%, but we have committed to each other, and to God, that we will strive to give over our pledge from last year.

I encourage all of you to have this discussion with your spouse, with your partner, with yourself and with God. I would also encourage each of you to read this book first then have the discussion. Please remember: All things belong to God. The question we must ask is, “How much of what God has given to me am I willing to keep this week.”

John Hyun

I get very emotional every time I tell this modern day version of the widow’s mite story, Luke 21:1-4.

I want to tell you a story about Mr. Eubanks. Mr. Eubanks is a member of Houston’s homeless community. On Sundays, if he attends the homeless service, Mr. Eubanks may the opportunity to eat a hearty breakfast at the Lord of the Streets mission in downtown Houston. Many of the youth and even some of the adults in our congregation could have passed by or even served Mr. Eubanks breakfast when they volunteered to help serve on a Sunday. However, for most of us, Mr. Eubanks’ name doesn’t trigger any memories so he remains anonymous, just of one of the hundreds of homeless faces on the streets of Houston. After breakfast, if Mr. Eubanks needs medical care he can go to HOMES. HOMES is a free clinic staffed by physicians and medical students from the Houston area who donate part of their Sundays providing free medical care for the homeless . Our son, Eric, is one of the volunteers at HOMES.

Within one or two miles of HOMES are the downtown overpasses. If you have ever driven under one on a hot and humid Sunday afternoon, Mr. Eubanks may have been one of those homeless seeking relief from the intense heat of the summer sun. Even in this environment, one of our youth may have provided Mr. Eubanks with one of the hundreds of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches distributed as part of one of their service projects.

One Friday about year ago, Carol and I meet our sons at a restaurant outside the Loop on Westheimer to celebrate my sixty birthday. After dinner, as the boys were driving away, Eric noticed a homeless man panhandling at the corner. As he drove closer, he recognized the homeless man as one of his HOMES patients. Eric pulled over to ask how he, Mr. Eubanks, was feeling. After a quick update, that evening Eric didn’t follow his normal routine of giving a homeless person and invitation to the HOMES clinic and a business card with the name, address and hours of the clinic. Instead he introduced Mr. Eubanks to his brother Christian and gave him some money. I know Mr. Eubanks didn’t receive more than a couple of dollars since Eric is on a pretty tight budget.

On Sunday morning Mr. Eubanks showed up at the clinic. But this time he had come to see Eric not as a patient but to tell him that he couldn’t accept the money. Mr. Eubanks felt he couldn’t accept the money because it was from someone who already had given so much for him. Mr. Eubanks then donated that money to the church. So let’s not forget that even the smallest of gifts may have on profound impact on someone’s life.

TEMPLE TALK REVIEWS (Just in case you missed one of them)

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Jim Bulau

“If you had told me six years ago that I would be sharing any kind of faith experience with the members of my church, I would have been stunned. I didn’t have a church, and my story was a list of excuses that I wouldn’t have shared anyway.

Sure, Bea and I knew that we should worship more than once or twice a year (and that was in a good year.) Then we thought about the possibility of Tracey growing up without knowing God, and that finally moved us to act. At the time I thought we were motivated by simple guilt and fear. But I recognize now the hand of the Holy Spirit in the process. We were being called back.

Once we made that commitment, God made the rest surprisingly easy. Originally we were worried about what people would think, but the pastors and members of our previous church accepted us back unconditionally. Pastor John especially. He had kind of a wild look about him, but Tracey adored him and his enthusiasm was contagious.

We then moved here with my job and found this nice little church. I knew it was right for me, with an ample supply of weeds and tons of broken stuff that needed fixing. I can do that!

Since then I have been called into other areas of ministry that I wouldn’t have considered myself qualified for. Again, God took care of the rest. I see Him at work all over this place. During the last Lenten season I heard our choir sing even better than they are capable of singing! I have also seen wild, absolutely untamable middle schoolers morph overnight, while I wasn’t looking, into youth leaders, teachers and role models, with the little kids looking up to them.

Finally, I participated in our church’s call for a new pastor. Serving on a call committee is a life-changing experience; it’s the Mecca of Lutheranism, for all to try once. Just not here anytime soon. It made me feel small because none of us on that committee were really qualified to answer the questions and address the issues before us. What is this congregation capable of becoming? Actually, that one is easy. The answer is “a lot more than we are.” But even harder, what are we willing to become? And what kind of pastor do we need to guide us? We had to pray and listen for answers. It’s a matter of faith that we were guided by the Holy Spirit with the truth, and not just our own wishful thinking.

During that call process, our congregation committed itself to forward movement, and not just a minimum energy mechanical repetition of everything the way we’ve always done it. Most of you were here, and endorsed us taking that challenge. Along with change there will continue to be some surprises. For example, of our new pastor, I think that most of us anticipated him being just a few years older.

I believe God has a plan for us as individuals and as a congregation that we can choose to follow, or not. Yet, he wants and expects us all to be willing active participants. Our congregation is still working out the details of His plan for us. I expect to be here, fixing broken stuff, making my offering, or whatever else it takes. And I’m looking forward to it.

Jim Bulau

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Karen Weinstein

As I reflected on my faith story in deciding what to say in this Temple Talk, I am amazed at the journey on which God has led me. A lifelong Lutheran—raised 10 minutes from TLU– going to church has just been a way of life. When my oldest child turned 4, she started attending Sunday school and, like my mother, I became a SCS teacher. I’ve now been a member of HCLC for 21 years.

For the majority of my years at HCLC, I continued to teach SCS and meandered off and on committees. At the point in my life when I seemed to be traveling a lot on weekends to see 3 kids at Texas Tech or going home to be involved in activities of my large extended family, I decided that I’d drop out of church life other than attending services. But God had other plans—

In 2001, I found myself elected to church council despite my being out of the mainstream of church activities for some years, And, despite my resolution to never again be in a position that involved church politics. I became Council president. What a life-changing event.

HCLC is no longer just the church I attend, but God’s house on earth with the congregation being His family, who, as a loving parent is the ultimate provider. This is a place where we come to hear God’s word and be revitalized. But we like to do it in comfort, which requires electricity, air conditioning, water, and a building that doesn’t require an umbrella to stay dry during the service when it’s raining. Then there’s the staff that keeps the life of HCLC running smoothly and seemingly effortlessly to make sure events happen even with minimal planning.

Hearing the word “Stewardship” no longer causes me to grind my teeth and think “more money.” Stewardship is being an active participating family member in God’shouse on earth. Thanks to my participation in the current stewardship process, I now see that Stewardship is not just about money. For some reason, I never stopped to think deeply about that the fact that all I am and all that I have is a gift from God and my role is to manage these gifts in His name. God is the ultimate financial planner. In His wisdom, He knows that if we all give back to Him only a minute portion of the gifts we have been given—whether through time, talent or monetary wealth—we would all flourish.

My being on the council and now the stewardship committee—using a Jim Hammond phrase—”Is it a coincidence?” – I think not.

Thank you, God, for leading me where I would not go on my own.

Karen Weinstein

September 19, 2004

Joyce Hoover

When you hear the word “church,” what is your first thought?
For twenty-two years, when someone said “church” to me, it was St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod, St. Louis, Missouri. My dad and I were baptized, confirmed and married there. My grandpa helped built it. I knew God was in the stained glass windows and ornate altar.
But, God wanted me to broaden my concept of “church.” He moved me to Champaign-Urbana, Illinois and Fairfield, Connecticut, where “church” became more than a building. It was the called and ordained ministers: Pastors Hahn, Nelson, and Carter, men who helped me with raising children and changing eventually to the ELCA synod.
Again, God moved me on, to Cincinnati, Ohio, where I found a building and a pastor. But, I also found another meaning for the word “church.” I taught at a Roman Catholic high school with Father Kriedler, Brother Joe, and Sisters Judy and Donata. “Church” became people who helped young men in their spiritual as well as intellectual growth. Now I became an active part of that church group for the first time in my life.

But God had another growing experience for me when be brought to me Houston, Texas, and a small church Shepherd of the Woods, and a warm Pastor Ralph. The “church: became “family,” people who cared enough to call if they detected a problem, to constantly pray and constantly offer hugs. But the family of that small mission church did not survive.
I moved one more time with total unwillingness and cynicism. God brought me to Holy Comforter, a lovely building, but it can burn down. He brought me to a devoted servant of God in Pastor Cliff, but he retired. And he brought me to nice people. But, they belonged and I didn’t. I wasn’t going down that path again.
Then, slowly, I was drawn to individuals, too many to name, individuals who shared their faith walks with me in Bible class, while quilting, while gardening, while eating at restaurants and in their homes.
Now “church” for me, is more than a building or a minister. “Church” is wherever God is present. He is present when two or more of us are gathered together in His name. When He is there, there is power, love, and grace. For me, when God is among us, we can accomplish whatever He favors.

WE ARE THE CHURCH.

Joyce Hoover
September 26, 2004

Sammantha Lopez

I wrote this faith story while I was sitting in the waiting room of day surgery for my mom. As I sat there looking back at my life I realized that even though I may be young I have been thru a lot of things in my life and God was right there guiding me. He was there when my mom was first diagnosed with cancer, he was there when our house flooded, he was there when I first joined IT, and even now he is here with me as mom’s cancer recurs. But I also realized something else, not only was God there but so were all of you. So here’s my story.

Back when I was in fourth grade my mom was diagnosed with lymphoma. That was one of the hardest things in my life. That was when my life felt the emptiest. Right before the diagnosis we had just started to attend church here and I really didn’t know anyone, but I knew that there was someone that cared, or people said He cared; though at time it didn’t seem like it. But they said that God was there and that he would never leave me and that if I needed anything at all not to hesitate to call on the, after all they said we were now family. Family? Wow, these people knew nothing about me but yet they called me family. All of a sudden a feeling came over me that I had never felt from someone outside my family, I felt welcomed and loved but yet church still wasn’t meaning full.

Then came the flood, in 2001 our house was flooded. We had 5 feet of water in our house. The day after the water receded there all of you were tearing drywall out, pulling up carpet, bring my mom and I an RV to live, a car to drive. I can still remember looking around and thinking “O my gosh!! God is really working through these people. These people aren’t just my friends, they are my family!” But even then church still wasn’t as meaning full.

It wasn’t until about the 6th grade did church become an activity instead of a chore. So with that my faith continued to grow as I entered the confirmation program here. After I was confirmed and moved on to IT where I met some of the most amazing people ever. I know each and every one of them has touched my life in some way that I will never forget. Even though they be a year or two older, they were and still are my mentors and my family.

And now with my mom’s cancer recurring, I have never seen so many people care about one person so much. I had never in my short life heard of a whole community always wondering how just one person was feeling.

I guess what I’m getting at is by definition family is the most instinctive, fundamental social or mating group in man and animal, especially the union of a man and a women through marriage and their offspring; parents and their children. To me, family is so much more that just a mating group; a family is a group of people that support you, love you and help you grow in faith and as a person, and that’s what all of you are to me. You’re my family. You have supported me in my time of need, love me when I felt no one did, but most of all you have helped me and my faith grow into something that I could have never imagined. So now I finally get to say a long over due Thank you to my family.

Thank you!

Sammantha Lopez

October 17, 2004

Wade Wallinger

I. Pressing Question

Ever since Tim Grady asked me to relate my faith story I have had on my mind this very pressing question that I’ve never quite been able to answer: “What do I want to be when I grow up?”

II. About Me

Let me tell you how this question relates to who I am through two short stories:

A. In high school I worked at a pharmacy, and decided that is what I would study. When I was a week away from leaving for college I had a chance meeting with another pharmacist in town. Upon hearing of my interests, he quickly suggested that I go into Chemical Engineering. And that is what I did, that very next week. I just went with it.

B. Several years ago Ruby and I decided to visit my Czech cousins. We did not know them at all, but that did not stop us. We left with plane tickets and a rental car reservation. No hotel reservations. No detailed itinerary. Almost no German or Czech. (Although anyone who’s been to central Texas knows ‘Jak se mas?’.) We just went with it.

III. Faith Story

But what does this have to do with faith? I grew up in a Lutheran home. We attended church every Sunday, Sunday school, Confirmation. A typical Midwestern upbringing.

It wasn’t until I went off to college though that I began to realize how I was relying on God more and more. Through life there have been more and more situations which would have been unbearable without God. I found that my faith was best expressed by just going with it. By trusting God to be God, and to lead me in the right direction.

Now, I’m not perfect (just ask my kids). That’s why I’m here. The reason I still ask myself what I want to be when I grow up because I never will be fully grown up. There is always more to learn, more to be done. And I’ve learned that I can only do that through God.

IV. My Response

In response to God, Ruby and I have stretched our giving of time and money to the point where, for a tightwad like me, it seems we won’t be able to do it. And yet God made it possible. As we all carefully consider our own response in this season of stewardship I would ask you to pause, pray and respond. Perhaps you, too, can say afterwards..I just went with it!

Text: Matthew 6:25-34

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

And why do you worry about clothes: See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Wade Wallinger

October 24, 2004

Frank Kopta

A JOURNEY OF FAITH

Prompted by my interest in genealogy, last year I traveled to the two villages in northern Slovakia where my grandparents were born. Little did I realize at the time that the trip would lead to such a strengthening of my faith. I decided to stay the first night in Bratislava, because I arrived in the afternoon, and I did not wish to go threshing around the rural areas of a strange country after dark in a rental car. And as I was exploring the neighborhood of my hotel, I came across a magnificent modern church that sat atop a hill. So I went up the hill and into the church where I saw a group of old ladies sitting near the front of the nave reciting the rosary.

My first thoughts at that encounter were that he Slovaks were as indifferent to religion as their neighbors in other European countries and that only those for whom death was just a few years away had an active church life. However, I was very impressed by the church, and I resolved to return to it the next morning and take some photos of it.

Much to my surprise, as I was climbing that hill again, I was passed by people of all persuasions. There were ladies and men stylishly dressed; there were older couples in more modest clothing; and there were some seedy-looking characters who appeared to be down on their luck. And there were promising-looking young people too — all of them heading toward that church. And when I got inside, the nave was packed, and the congregation had overflowed into the narthex. And during the mass people made their responses so enthusiastically it gave me joy to witness it.

It was the same way at the vesper service at the Catholic church in Dolny Kubin near the hotel I had chosen as my base. But, when I checked the Lutheran church in that town, I was a little disappointed to find it was locked and did not offer an evening service. However the church’s bulletin board did contain a notice that it would offer an 11 am service the following Sunday.

And, when I entered that church around 10:45am on Sunday morning, there weren’t too many worshipers sitting in the pews. So I again felt disappointed at what I though was a lack of zeal on the part of Dolny Kubin’s Lutherans. However, my disappointment was short lived, and by ll o’clock the central part of the nave was filled and the side galleries on the upper level were as well. Evidently Slovak Lutherans, like their American counterparts, don’t want to get to the church too early. I sat at the back of the church, took a hymnal from the shelf behind me, and though I had only the most rudimentary knowledge of Slovak, I was able to join in the lusty singing of the three or four hymns that were part of the service.

Later, when I reflected on the three services I had witnessed, I concluded that a people whose religious life had been suppressed by a tyrannical government for half a century continue to express joy at their liberation by having an active religious life even 15 years afterwards. How I wish that all those who have never experienced tyranny could share in that joy as I did.

Frank Kopta HCLC Council Member

June 2005

Melinda Grady

THE HOLY SPIRIT IN MY LIFE

I remember hearing a children’s sermon once that described the Holy Spirit as something like the wind. People can’t see it, but they can feel it, and they can describe its effects on the world around them. Using that analogy to my faith journey, I can say that I have often felt the Holy Spirit in my life as a gentle wind that has blown faithful disciples into my path and opened my eyes to their example. On a least one occasion, however, the Holy Spirit moved in a stronger, more forceful manner that has pushed me into a new direction.

It all began with a foolish prayer. I pray often while I drive (no, I’m not that bad of a driver), and I usually pray about daily events in my life. My children were about 6 and 9 respectively, and I had signed them up for youth basketball teams. I found myself praying that they were placed on a particular team so that they would be with friends and I could arrange carpools. As I finished the prayer, I thought how silly that prayer really was. My kids would enjoy their games no matter what and might actually make more friends. I should be praying about more important matters-there must be children in the world with more problems than which basketball team they would be drafted into. Maybe the children in famine stricken Ethiopia or some war-torn nation needed my prayers. So I prayed the “dangerous” prayer: Lord, show me what I need to do.

My destination that day was the church office at our church in San Antonio. I had promised the church administrator that I would watch the office and answer the phones while she went for a luncheon appointment. The newly arrived mail was on the desk, so I began sorting through the mail for her. One of the items was a newsletter of sorts that described various events going on in the synod. At the very bottom was a statement that Lutheran Social Services had received a gift of land and a camphouse at Canyon Lake, and plans were underway to convert this camphouse into a residential treatment center for young girls.

The announcement surprised me. I thought that LSS did adoptions and maybe ran a retirement village or something. What were they doing running a camp? I remembered a pamphlet about LSS was out in the narthex for visitors. (I had been a member of the congregation for about 9 years at this time.) So I grabbed the pamphlet and began reading.

I discovered that LSS was involved with lots more than adoptions. Many children referred to them by the state were able to be placed in foster care, but others had been so emotionally and physically abused that they needed professional care that only a residential treatment center with psychiatric services could provide.

The children’s stories were horrifying. But even more horrifying to me was the need- there were more children requiring these types of services than any state service could provide. And these children were not in some far away corner of the world-they all lived in south and central Texas. That is the area in which I grew up, went to college, and began my own family. This was too close to home for comfort.

Then I heard the words “YOU ASKED”. This was as near to a “calling” as I have ever experienced. I had asked for some children to pray over, but I had never had a prayer of mine answered so swiftly, so definitely, and so unexpectedly. I was being led.

The girls at New Life Residential Treatment Facility in Canyon Lake have been on my prayer list ever since. The work of LSS has grown dramatically over the years since that day. My contributions have followed my prayers, and I know that in my own small way, I am supporting a ministry that the Lord has directed me to support.

Melinda Grady HCLC Council Member

June 2005

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