The Hilarious Curse of Having an Overly Complicated Last Name

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I grew up in a small town.  My father was a teacher and a principal at a small Christian school, and was also a preacher in town.  While he was not what most would call “famous” he was well known.  More importantly people knew how to pronounce our last name…if they knew us.  If they didn’t, we knew it was going to be a wild ride.

For people who know us, and have known us – they don’t understand how our name could be mispronounced.

Widick.  It is pronounced with a long “I” sound – like “Why.”

But for some reason, people like to pronounce it differently.  And when I say differently – I mean, about 900 different ways.

Now listen, I can understand mispronouncing it with a short “I” sound, effectively making it sound like “Widdick.”  I get that.

However, I don’t understand how people absolutely butcher our last name.

Below are just a few of the ways our name has been mispronounced or misspelled:

Widwick

Werdrick

Widlick

Wiredick

Wicklick

Widmick

Wyldick

And my personal favorite:  Widdawick

How do random “Ls” and “Rs” end up our name?  I suppose I’ll never figure it out.

When I went to college, my brother and sister had gone to the same school before me.  They allowed, apparently, all the college professors to mispronounce our name.  You can imagine my surprise when I started class the first day, and the teacher was going over the class list – and said “Lane Widdick.”

I corrected him, and said “Here, but sir, its pronounced Widick, with a long “I” sound.”

He looked at me and said “No, I don’t think so, I think its pronounced Widdick.”

Going to restaurants is always fun.  Its to the point now where I just give them my first name.  Its just easier than hearing people try to say “Widd…Why…Widrick…party of 3.”

Because of my complicated last name, I am very sensitive to people who have unusual or complicated names.  My first job out of college was teaching/campus ministry/coaching at a Christian school in Houston, Texas.

My first period class one year had 12 people, and 8 different nationalities represented.

We had players on our basketball teams with last names that were 15 letters long with 7 syllables.  I always felt so bad when the announcers would butcher their names.

I’m proud of my last name, and I know that wherever I go, its almost a badge of honor.

Like today – we had our carpets cleaned in our home to prep it so we can sell it in the next few weeks.  Over the phone the gentleman tried very hard to write our last name down.  When he asked me for my first name, I said “Lane, L-a-n-e” and when he asked or my last name I did what I always do.  I said – my last name is spelled “W-I-D-I-C-K.” And then I pronounce it – “Widick.”

Now, I do this because when I just say it first, it tends to freak them out.  They usually stammer and ramble “Uh…um…okay…that’s W…”

So I just spell it.

He repeated back to me “Okay, that is W – E…”

Me – “No, no… ‘I.’”

Him – “Oh, sorry, so its ‘W-I-E.’”

Me – “No, no…i’m sorry, its ‘W – I – D – I – C -K.’”

Him – “My apologies sir ‘W – I – E – D – was it another W…?”

Me – “Yes…that’s fine.”

This morning when the technician came in, he was very professional, and had my paperwork to sign before he began.  On the paperwork – it said “Lane Widlick,” which wasn’t even one of the options the man a few days before gave me.

The technician asked me “Are you related to a Matthew Widlick?  He’s another one of our customers.”

I said “No sir, that’s not my last name.” to which he responded “Oh, let me correct that for you.”

I just said, “Don’t worry about it.”

To all of you out there with complicated or unusual last names, my heart goes out to you.  Here’s to another day of deciding “Do I correct them, or just let them think they’re right?”

A Man Named Joseph Shulam

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Tonight, I was fortunate enough to sit at the feet of Joseph Shulam.  For those of you who do not know Joe, he runs the Netivyah Bible Instruction Ministry in Jerusalem.  This past summer, I was most fortunate to be able to spend a few weeks with him and others, learning and traveling in the area.

We had a reunion at the Longview Mansion in Nashville this evening.  Joseph reminded us of a very sobering thought – Christians are under attack in the Middle East.  ISIS is growing by leaps and bounds, faster than we realize or that the news is reporting.

I wanted to take a moment and introduce you to Joseph Shulam – and ask you to pray for his efforts in sharing Jesus with the world.  Let us continue to pray for the people of God throughout the world.  I thought I would share with you a bit tonight about this man I am honored to call a brother in Christ, and I pray my influence for the Kingdom may be even just a tiny bit of what He has been able to do for God.

From the Netivyah website, about Joseph Shulam: (www.netivyah.org)

Joseph Shulam was born in Sofia, Bulgaria on March 24, 1946 to a Sephardic Jewish Family. In 1948 his family immigrated to Israel just before the establishment of the State. Joseph grew up in Jerusalem. While in high school he was introduced to the New Testament and immediately identified with the person of Yeshua. Joseph’s fascination with the teaching of Yeshua eventually brought him to faith in God and the Messiah. This caused his family to reject him. As a result of that rejection he traveled to the United States and finished high school in Dasher, Georgia. After a short study in Michigan Christian College, he returned to Jerusalem and enrolled in the Hebrew University, there he studied Biblical Archaeology and Bible. From the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Joseph returned to the United States and studied New Testament and Chemistry in David Lipscomb University in Nashville, Tennessee. There he met Marcia Saunders and after a short courtship they were married.

Upon his graduation in 1969 they immigrated to Israel and started a congregation in the Tel-Aviv area. In 1972 Joseph entered an Orthodox Jewish Yeshiva (Rabbinical College) in Jerusalem. He studied in the Yeshiva for three and a half years. After Rabbinical Studies Joseph returned to the Hebrew University and studied History of Jewish Thought during the Second Temple period. In 1981 Joseph and the small fellowship that was started in his house established one of the first official non-profit organizations of Jewish Disciples of Yeshua in Israel – Netivyah Bible Instruction Ministry. Netivyah Bible Instruction Ministry purchased the building on Narkis Street in 1982 as the congregational home. This was the first time that a Messianic Jewish Congregation had their own building and not an inherited protestant church.

Netivyah Bible Instruction Ministry is dedicated to three major goals:

  1. Building bridges of understanding between Israel and the nations, between Jews and Christians, through the Restoration of the First Century faith of the Disciples of Yeshua.
  2. The study, research, and teaching of the New Testament in light of the Jewish Context and Roots, and publication of materials and books related to the Jewishness of the New Testament.
  3. Aid and help with the needs of the Jewish Disciples of Yeshua and the poor of Jerusalem by humanitarian assistance and food distribution.

Joseph has lectured extensively around the world and has assisted in encouraging Disciples in countries like, Finland, Germany, Bulgaria, Russia, Ukraine, Brazil, United States, Spain, Portugal, China, Hong Kong, Egypt, Italy, France, Holland, Japan, Korea, Cyprus, Greece, Hungary, Switzerland, and of course Israel.

Joseph has two children, Barry and Danah, and two grandchildren, Joseph and Noaam. Joseph speaks seven languages, Hebrew, Bulgarian, English, Ladino (Spanish), German, Arabic, and French.

Netivyah’s goals remain the same as they always have been. Currently there are two major tasks Joseph is working towards. The first is the remodeling and expanding of the Netivyah Building after finally triumphing in a long court battle for the permits. This remodeling will produce for the first time in two thousand years a Synagogue of Jewish Desciples of Yeshua in Jerusalem. There is a great need for the financing to complete this project. The second project is the restoration of the Marrano Jews from Portugal and around the world back to the Jewish fold and to the land of Israel.

Praise Songs or Hymns?

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This is a re-post from December of 2009.  Its also a classic joke that I just love.  I hope you enjoy this tonight:

Here’s a funny little story about Hymns and Praise Songs.  The author is unknown .

An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended the big city church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

“Well,” said the farmer. “It was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of hymns.”

“Praise choruses?” asked the wife. “What are those?”

“Oh, they’re okay. They’re sort of like hymns, only different,” said the farmer.

“Well, what’s the difference?” asked the wife.

The farmer said, “Well it’s like this … If I were to say to you, ‘Martha, the cows are in the corn,’ well that would be a hymn. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you,

‘Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh, Martha, MARTHA, MARTHA,
the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows, the white cows, the black and white cows,
the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn,
in the CORN, CORN, CORN, COOOOORRRRRNNNNN,’

Then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well that would be a praise chorus.”

As luck would have it, the exact same Sunday a young, new Christian from the city church attended the small town church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

“Well,” said the young man, “It was good. They did something different, however. They sang hymns instead of praise songs.”

“Hymns?” asked the wife. “What are those?”

“They’re okay. They’re sort of like praise songs, only different,” said the young man.

“Well, what’s the difference?” asked the wife.

The young man said, “Well it’s like this … If I were to say to you, ‘Martha, the cows are in the corn,’ well that would be a praise song. If on the other hand, I were to say to you,

Oh Martha, dear Martha, hear thou my cry
Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth.
Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by
To the righteous, glorious truth.

For the way of the animals who can explain
There in their heads is no shadow of sense,
Hearkenest they in God’s sun or his rain
Unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.

Yea those cows in glad bovine, rebellious delight,
Have broke free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night
They all my mild Chilliwack sweet corn chewed.

So look to that bright shining day by and by,
Where all foul corruptions of earth are reborn
Where no vicious animal makes my soul cry
And I no longer see those foul cows in the corn,

Then, if I were to do only verses one, three and four, and change keys on the last verse, well that would be a hymn.”

The Small Church is Alive and Well

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I love giant churches.  I remember when I was a little boy, I would go and visit my grandmother at the Charlotte Avenue Church of Christ building during the week.  She was the church secretary there and I loved going to play in the building.  The auditorium was so beautiful.  I remember the curved pews lining the sanctuary, with the balcony hanging overhead.

But there was also a gorgeous chapel, long halls, a huge education wing – this place had it all.  I was mostly jealous, because my family went to a small church.  My father as the preacher for small churches in and around Wilson County.  When I say small, I mean 25-50 members small.

At one location, my mother would take me and my sister to the back corner of the auditorium where they had strung up a curtain so we could have a “classroom” to use.  It was these kinds of places that I grew up in, learning about the Bible.  So when I went to a giant church building, I could just imagine how much they were able to do there.

My other grandparents went to the Vultee congregation on the other side of town.  These two churches served as two of the largest congregations in the city of Nashville.  I often thought, “This just isn’t fair.”

The majority of my childhood was spent in the Bethel Church of Christ near Watertown, TN.  There were at least a few people my age there.  There was another family, the Smith family, who had 4 girls – Jamie, Sonya, Robbie, and Callie.  Sonya was my age, and Jamie was my sister’s age – so at least we had that.  We even had a classroom, and my mom didn’t have to teach us, because Mrs. Fannie Bell Warren was my teacher, and Ms. Dorothy Jean Smith taught my sister.

What I’ve learned over the past few years is that while large churches can do great things, so can small churches.  The memories I have of Bethel are forever etched in my mind.

Jesse Russell would lead our songs.  We had about 15 songs we sang, over and over again.  He wouldn’t have them prepared ahead of time, he would just get up and pick one by flipping through his book.  His wife Fredda, would clip her fingernail every Sunday.

John Clemmons was an elder.  He was bald as a cue ball.  He always had his hat with him.  His wife, Christine, was a very outgoing and friendly lady.

Willard Warren was my teacher’s husband.  They sat right behind us.  I spent many a Sunday morning sitting with them while my dad would preach.

There was the resident business man, who actually lived in a farm behind the church building.  Dan Smith always seemed like a local politician.  His wife, Vondie, was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.

We may not have had large programs, and we may not have supported mission works all over the world.  On Sunday, most of the times my father had to preach, and lead a prayer, and possibly serve Communion as well.  But we were a family, which is one of the many parts of what a church is all about.

Last weekend, I preached for the Fernvale Church of Christ.  Its a small church, just left of the hollow log by the creekbank just past the old Wilson place.  Its a church family that doesn’t have a full time preacher.  They like to bring in students, but didn’t have one for this semester that could come out full time.  I was contacted by one of their elders to see if I could come fill in a bit before we moved on to our new work in Florida.

I walked in, and was smacked with my memories of childhood.  Small lobby, two small wings on the side of the building for overflow.  No microphone needed.  And some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met.  Today, I’ll preach for them again.  We’ll drive 45 minutes to get there, and it will be worth every minute.

Let’s not get caught up in how many people are coming to our church.  Let’s not get caught up in the numbers.  Let’s not be people who ask “How many people go to your church?” – because honestly – that just doesn’t matter.  What matters is that the church exists at all, and that is affecting lives for the Kingdom of God.  Large churches are great – they can do so much for the Kingdom.  But so can the small churches.

To those of you who preach and teach at the “small” churches – may God bless you today with and overwhelming sense of His presence.  May God be praised.  Amen.

How Your Saturday Can Affect Your Sunday

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When I was in high school, and then even into college, I lived for the weekends.  “What are you doing Friday and Saturday night?” was a common question.  Often, those nights were spent hanging with friends, playing ball, watching movies, or various other activities.  I was never one to go out and “party” or do anything stupid, but I was one that loved to stay out late.

I would most often find myself, especially in college, staying out till curfew, and then going back to my room, hanging out with my roommate, playing video games, talking, or playing cards till the wee hours of the morning.  It was okay though – I didn’t have class the next day.  On Saturday night, we’d do it all over again.  It was okay though – I didn’t have class the next day.

I ended up sleeping through Bible class, waking up about 10 minutes before worship, and we would run over to the church that met right next door, sneak in, and get settled right before worship began.  I have to tell you – I don’t think I could have told you one thing that happened during any of those services.

I wasn’t encouraged.  I wasn’t uplifted.  I wasn’t happy.  I didn’t feel like I had worshipped.  I knew I had not given it my all.  Sure, I was there.  At least, physically I was there.  But mentally, I was still fast asleep, my mind was not awake, and I really didn’t care about what I was doing.

Fast forward 15 years.  Are things any different?

I’m not suggesting you cease all your Saturday activities, and stay at home meditating with your legs crossed and humming the Old Rugged Cross all day.  I AM suggesting that maybe you make sure that you get home at a decent hour, with time to calm down before bed, and spend some time Saturday evening focusing on the cross.

When you have a big presentation at work, or have a major test at school, or anything else similar – you usually spend the night before preparing.  I don’t think we spend enough time preparing to go and be with our church family on Sunday morning.  For so many of us, we wake up just in time to throw an outfit on, rush the family out, and show up 10 minutes late.  While its great you’re there, and its better you’re there than not there, ask yourself – are you ready to worship?  Are you ready to learn about God’s love and grace and mercy?

On Sunday morning, how prepared will you be to sit in the presence of God surrounded by brothers and sisters while singing and listening and encouraging?  Tonight, make sure you plan your evening around your Sunday morning plans.  It may just make your Sunday morning awesome.

Thursday Potpourri

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1.  A weatherman in Phoenix wins the internet with this video of how he handled a technical snafu on his weather report.

2.  Last night, at around 11:45, we had an interesting situation crop up at our home.  I usually stay up later, and I was sitting in my chair catching up on some Top Gear episodes.  I hear some humming, and Josie comes bounding down the stairs.  She looks over at me and says “Hi Daddy!”  She was dressed, ready for school, and had her hair brush so Kristen could fix her hair.  I just stared at her – and said “What are you doing?  Its the middle of the night?”  She thought it was morning and time to eat breakfast.  Sigh…

3.  My prediction for the Super Bowl is still for the Seahawks to win.  I’m going to guess 21-10, Seahawks.

4.  Last winter, I won a teamaker.  I had always wanted to enjoy hot beverages, I just never could find one that I liked.  I don’t like coffee.  I never cared for hot tea.  Hot chocolate is always great, but isn’t the best for you!  I won a Breville teamaker, pictured below.  I had no idea that different teas were to be brewed at different temperatures and for different lengths.  Tonight – I’m enjoying a cup of David’s Tea – the Superberry flavor (discontinued).  I highly recommend their Honey Bee flavor. 

Photo Jan 29, 7 10 39 PM

My Personal Connection to the Space Shuttle Challenger: Remembering That Tragic Day

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We were driving around Nashville in our old van.  It was a snow day.  Well, sort of.  It was one of those days when it snowed, but cleared up quickly.  We had moved into our new house just the year before.  My parents had been searching for wallpaper for the house.

We had the radio on in the van – loud enough to hear but not loud enough for us to really pay attention.  I was sitting in the back seat.  In between stores, as we were driving down the road, I faintly heard someone on the radio say “The space shuttle Challenger has exploded.”

I remember this day vividly for two reasons.  First of all – it was a major event in American history.  Tragedies such as this are things that scar your mind.  Assassinations, natural disasters, bombings, and other things such as this are the things you tell your children about in the manner of “I remember when…” or “I can remember where I was when…”

The second reason I remember this day was because of a personal connection to the shuttle.  One of the reasons the space shuttle Challenger was so important was because of the Teacher-in-Space program.  They were going to put a school teacher in space along with the other astronauts on the voyage.

One of my best friends in elementary school was Travis Fakes.  His mother was a teacher for Lebanon High School, and she qualified as one of two finalists for the state of Tennessee for the program.  Out of over 10,000 applications, she was in the top 100 of teacher candidates.

She did not make it to the top 10 – but I remember how shaken she was, and how shaken our community was when the explosion occurred.  Here’s a list of the top 100 or so candidates: http://www.worldspaceflight.com/bios/teacher.php

Tragedies like this are inevitable.  They have occurred all throughout history, and will continue to happen.  But, we continue to move forward.  The space program did not stop because of that tragic event.  It has had other tragedies occur as well.  But, the space program continues.

And now, I continue to have a connection to the space program through my brother-in-law, Philip Garton, who works for Boeing and has had his hand in helping with the International Space Station, and also with the new Orion program.

I praise God that He has given mankind a can-do attitude, a resolve to continue through struggles, and an ability to bounce back.

Tonight, pray for the families of those whose lives were taken on the Space Shuttle Challenger 29 years ago today.

The One Where I Ask: Do I Throw it Away, Give it Away, or Sell it? How Cleaning Out Your House is Like Cleaning Out Your Heart

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Do I Throw it Away, Give it Away, or Sell it?  That’s the question I want to ask you today.

For the past few days, we have been purging a whole lot of items in our house.  Items that we no longer use, need, or want.  Items that have been taking up residence in a cabinet or a closet, that we haven’t used or even thought about for years.  Toys that our little girl no longer uses or plays with.  Clothes that don’t fit, or are out of style.  All sorts of items have made their way out of our house.

Some of it we have sold.  Some of it we have given away.  Some of it we have thrown away.  I am constantly amazed at the things that people will buy.  You’ve done it – right?  You’ve bought someone else’s trash, and the circle of recycling begins.

I am in awe of how much stuff we’ve had in our house.  I am almost ashamed of the amount of possessions we have.  We went through our closet, and got rid of half of our clothes, and it still looks full.  Today, I cleaned out all my drawers from my dresser – had 2 garbage bags full of clothes to donate, and when I put items back in the drawers they were still full.

And then there’s the action of going through things and asking the question “Do I really want to get rid of that?  I may need it again one day…”  The stuff we need to get rid of our lives is a lot like what we’ve done the past few days – we throw it away, we give it away, or we sell it.

Throwing Away:

We carry a lot of junk around in our lives.  The sin we have in our lives, well, we know that we need to throw it away.  That’s what the Bible tells us in Hebrews 12:1.  It says “let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.”

Throw it away – throw away the sin that so easily entangles.  Throw it out.  Get rid of it.

Giving it Away:

Psalm 55:22 tells us to give our burdens to God.  It states: “Give your burdens to the LORD, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall.” (NLT)

Now, there are some things that God places on us to bear.  Just like Paul had to bear the thorn in his flesh, we have things God has placed on us, for a variety of reasons.  But there are some things which Satan has placed on us, or perhaps even worse – we have placed upon ourselves.  If you can’t bear it – give it to God.

Sell It:

Its always fun to sell things and make a little extra “pocket money.”

In essence, we sold our sins to Jesus.  And just like when we sell our junk to others and get a sense of satisfaction knowing its off our hands and someone else is going to take it away for us, our sins are just like that.

Our sins were bought with a hefty price.  Do you remember the old gospel hymn:

Gone is all my debt of sin,
A great change is wrought within,
And to live I now begin,
Risen from the fall;
Yet the debt I did not pay—
Someone died for me one day,
Sweeping all the debt away—
Jesus paid it all.

Jesus died and paid it all, yes,
On the cross of Calvary,
And my stony heart was melted
At His dying, dying call;
Oh, His heart in shame was broken
On the tree for you and me, yes,
And the debt, the debt is canceled,
Jesus paid it, paid it all.

Jesus did pay it all.  He came in bought everything from me.  He came in and bought things I didn’t even know I wanted to let go of.  In fact, the price he paid was more than I ever dreamed of asking.  But he didn’t mind.

So what things in your life do you need to throw away, or give away, or sell?