As proud as I am to be an American,
and as wonderful as is the freedom we cherish,
and as magnificent and overwhelmingly dominate
as is our military men, women and machines;
I do not believe America is big enough
to shake her fist in the face of a Holy and Almighty God
without serious and escalating consequences.
First, a mild response in love to try and get our attention.
Secondly, more painful events to solicit our repentance
(I believe we are in this second stage now).
Thirdly, His judgment on a nation that has received
over its history the most abundance
of His grace, protection and blessings.
Oh, God, please, please heal our land!
Help us to cease our wickedness
and grant us Your forgiveness that we may turn back to You
and serve the world in sharing the gospel.
— Jim Fox

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble
themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their
wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their
sin, and will heal their land.”
— 2 Chronicles 7:14

I am told I was a “cry baby”. While I was still in a crib, my older sister had had enough. She talked mom & dad into letting her have the upstairs unfinished half-story for her bedroom because my crying was “driving her crazy”. Short trip, I say. But she was telling the truth. I remember and admit to crying all day my first day of school. So I was a cry baby… until the day I had to go to the dentist to have some teeth pulled.

It was always mom who took us to the doctors, dentist and such places… but Dad was off work that day and he was the one to take me to the dentist — scary looking place with a lot of threatening equipment. When the news came that a couple teeth had to be pulled and I would be put to sleep with gas (they did that in those days) and this mask was being strapped to my face by a bad man in a white coat, I panicked! How was I to breathe?! I wanted out of there! I started to cry and fight to get out of the chair and to look to dad for help … which was the last thing I remember until it was all over but the bleeding. Dad said I did great!

It was only a few minutes to our home and when we walked in mom asked how it went. Dad said, “he did great, no problem at all, he was brave, no crying, I am proud of him”. Wow! I was looking around to see who else dad had taken to the dentist. Then dad said for being so good he was taking me to the store to get a toy and then we were going for a walk behind our house where they were bulldozing a woods to build homes.

The store was only a block away too, and I picked binoculars as my reward. Dad sat me on his shoulders and we walked out to the bulldozers and earthmovers which had just been shut down for the evening. To this day, when I smell newly turned earth, it takes me back to that moment.

So dad said I was brave… and brave kids don’t cry over such things. I don’t believe I ever again cried over such things. My boyhood, if not my manhood, had been validated by my father. Awesome. He knew what he was doing and the moment was not about dentists or bulldozers. Dad used other such opportunities to build my confidence and self-esteem.

At age 14, dad let me stay home from school to go fishing with him. We were on an open and deserted section of US 301, Eastern Shore of Maryland, where it crosses the Chester River. There we fished. A Howard Johnson’s Restaurant sat about a half mile up the road. Otherwise it was all farmland.

Dad had been teaching me to drive on a few occasions and let me take the controls a few times, with him sitting next to me. But to my surprise, he hands me the keys and his coffee thermos and says to drive up to the Ho Jo’s and get a coffee refill. Wow. I was taking his car and driving alone, and this more than a year before I was eligible to get a learners permit. He was saying, without saying, that he trusted my driving skills. Again,“validation”. Dad has long ago gone on to be with Christ, but I still miss him and remember these and many more moments that he gave me that built my confidence.

I have tried to do the same with my three children. Dads, take heed, and use all the “teachable moments” God gives you to show your love and to validate the manhood or womanhood of your children and teens.

— Pastor Jim

Like tomorrow, June 5th, 1971, fell on a Saturday. Trish and I were married in the Baptist church in New Castle, Delaware, where we had met.

It was simple wedding since we were paying for most everything ourselves. Trish wore a wedding gown mail-ordered from the Penny’s catalog. I was ignorant about gowns and things and didn’t realize how special a wedding gown was to a bride, but Trish never let on if she had any disappointment about it. As you would expect, we practiced everything Friday evening. I saw her come down the aisle several times in practice. But as the wedding began and we reached that part where the music intensifies and a friend who stood-in for the mother that Trish never had, rose to her feet and all turned to see the bride…. my mouth fell open to see how beautiful a bride in a very beautiful wedding gown (A lot more money invested in a dress could not have improved on what I saw!) was walking toward me. I was stunned… whatever apprehensions about marriage I may have harbored fled away then and there. I KNEW I was a lucky man (A twenty-three year old kid, really)!

I loved her – or so I thought. But looking back after 39 years of discovering her inner character and the love and devotion she has given me… experiencing the care and support and having her rise to my defense so many times… to know the sacrifices she made so that I might follow my call to serve Christ… to witness the incredible instincts of motherhood rise in her as each of our children came along… and to observe her love for Christ and service to the women of our ministries over the years… and to have her laugh at my stupid quips and to become early-on my deepest FRIEND who I MUST have with me to enjoy anything this world offers – I realize that compared to the love I have for her now, I must have really hated her when we first married!!

So 39 years of marriage means…. it means I better do something to acknowledge 40 years next June! So you all are invited to our house next year to help us celebrate 40 years more wonderful than I deserve or could have imagined. I LOVE YOU, TRISHA! You are a gift from God whom I literally thank frequently.

Proverbs 18:22 “Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.” That might be the Bible’s biggest understatement!

- Jim
June 4, 2010

I didn’t give a lot of thought to the real meaning of Memorial Day when I was a teen. My grandparents called it Decoration Day… a day when homes, and especially the graves of those killed in military service, were decorated with the American flag and other patriotic trappings in honor of those who paid the ultimate price to keep our freedom. Some John Philips Sousa music and a memorial service in the town square are traditional. As a pastor, I’ve been called upon to pray at such affairs in the past and am always honored to do so.

But as a teen, Memorial Day was a holiday from school and the unofficial start to summer – usually spent at our summer place at Crystal Beach Manor on the Chesapeake Bay. It was often the first weekend we were swimming and boating. I still had to help dad with some projects getting the cottage ready for the season, but I was usually turned loose early enough to find friends and head to the beach, “boardwalk”, or boat. A cook-out with the larger family of aunts, uncles and cousins was typical. Great memories indeed.

Not very many years after I would join the Navy and, with a growing maturity (though many might argue that point), I came to fully comprehend the meaning of Memorial Day and to feel a special gratitude to the men and women who died for our country.

So if your are thinking about the price of hot dogs, the price of a round of golf, or the price of gasoline this Memorial Day, DON’T FORGET TO PAUSE AND THINK ABOUT THE PRICE OF FREEDOM!

- Jimmy Fox