December Activities

November 28, 2013

01 – FIRST SUNDAY/COMMUNION ~ 11:00AM
BASKET OF BLESSINGS

Sunday School ~ 9:45am
Called Administrative Board Meeting – 12:00 pm
Advent Family Night – 4 pm – 6 pm
02 – Pineywoods Pick’rs Practice ~ 2:00pm
03 – Golden Needles Quilting – 9:30am
UWM meeting & Christmas Luncheon – 9:30am
04 – Soup, Salad, & Song – 12:00pm
Choir Practice – 5:30pm
06 – Evening in Old Bethlehem & Pizza
Game Night – 6:00pm
08 – SECOND SUNDAY/COVERED DISH ~ 11:00AM
BASKET OF BLESSINGS

Sunday School ~ 9:45am
09 – Pineywoods Pick’rs Practice ~ 2:00pm
10 – Golden Needles Quilting – 9:30am
11 – Soup, Salad, & Song – 12:00 noon
Choir Practice – 5:30pm
12 – Empty Stocking Shopping Day – 7:00am @ Target in Lufkin
13 – Game Night – 6:00pm
14 – Agape Sunday School Class Party – 5:00 pm
15 – THIRD SUNDAY ~ 11:00AM
UMM Sponsored Church Breakfast ~ 9:00am
Sunday School ~ 9:45am
Set up for Empty Stocking
16 – Empty Stocking Workday
Pineywoods Pick’rs Practice ~ 2:00pm
17 – Empty Stocking Pick up
Golden Needles Quilting – 9:30am
18 – Prayer Shawl Ministry – 10:00pm
Soup, Salad, and Song – 12 noon
Choir Practice – 5:30pm
19 – Christmas Basket Workday – 9:00 am
20 – Christmas Basket Pick up 9:00 am
Game Night – 6:00pm
22 – FOURTH SUNDAY ~ 11:00AM
Sunday School ~ 9:45am
24 – CHRISTMAS EVE SERVICE – 6:00 pm
OFFICE CLOSED
25– MERRY CHRISTMAS
OFFICE CLOSED
27 – Game Night – 6:00pm
29 – FIFTH SUNDAY ~ 11:00AM
Sunday School ~ 9:45am
31 – WATCH NIGHT SERVICE – 7:00 pm till… 11:45 pm service
Lock-In

December Birthdays
03 – Joe Cloud
06 – Roy Hammonds
09 – Hank Lavigne
14 – Chuck Corley
16 – Lindy Allison
16 – Gloria Foster
16 – Robert Roberson
20 – Peggy Rawls
21 – Glenda Keel
24 – Carol Olver
25 – Tommye Sue Carlson
25 – Earl Rivers
27 – Penny Schuchert
28 – Terry Dutton

December Anniversaries
02 – Sherry & Larry Lindsey
12 – Ray & Audrey Groff
18 – Brenda & Chuck Corley
21 – Lee & Terry Dutton
22 – Burt & Kathryn Butaud
28 – Charles & Barbara Watson

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An Old Dog and An Old Man,- A true story by Catherine Moore

November 25, 2013

“Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!” My father yelled at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him.
A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.
“I saw the car, Dad . Please don’t yell at me when I’m
driving..”
My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I
really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home
I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my
thoughts….. dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a
promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner
turmoil. What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had
enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the
forces of nature.
He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had
placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that
attested to his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t
lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him
outside alone, straining to lift it.. He became irritable whenever
anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t
do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart
attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic
administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He
was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest
for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders.
Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm
and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped
altogether. Dad was left alone..
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on
our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became
frustrated and moody.
Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to
bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the
situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us.
At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe
Dad’s troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically
called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages.
I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices
that answered in vain.
Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly
exclaimed, “I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the
article..” I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable
study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for
chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had proved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog..
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels.
The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down.
It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. “Can you tell me about him?” The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. “He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.” He gestured helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. “You mean you’re going to kill him?” “Ma’am,” he said gently, “that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.”
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I’ll take him,” I said. I drove home with the dog
on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the
horn twice.
I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto
the front porch… “Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !” I said
excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it” Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. “You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!”
Dad ignored me.. “Did you hear me, Dad?” I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw… Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw,
confusion replaced the anger in his eyes.
The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad
named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes.
They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad
sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends.
Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne ‘s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered
Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and
Cheyenne had made filling the church.. The pastor began his eulogy.
It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his
life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. “Do not neglect
to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels
without knowing it.” “I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said. For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle
that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right
article… Cheyenne ‘s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter .
…his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard,
love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
God answers our prayers in His time……..not ours.
Submitted by Gloria Foster


Style Show 2013!

November 18, 2013

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Baptism of JoAnn & Brad Varnum’s Grandson

November 7, 2013

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Scare on the Square a Success

November 6, 2013

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Congratulations Pine Grove UMC for 125 Years!

November 5, 2013

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Karen with Pine Grove Pastor Sarah Porter

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