United Methodist Church of Twentynine Palms

05/25/2023

"On behalf of Bishop Dottie Escobedo-Frank and her Cabinet, I share with you that after much prayer and consultation, it is Bishop Dottie Escobedo-Frank’s intent to appoint Melissa Pryor to serve as your Lay Person Assigned (LPA) at UMC of Twentynine Palms effective July 1, 2023. Bishop Dottie Escobedo-Frank intends to appoint Pastor Nesi to First UMC of San Gabriel effective July 1, 2023. Please hold Melissa and Pastor Nesi and their families in your prayers during this time of change."

05/25/2023

Farewell Dinner with the District Superintendent of the East District, Rev. Dr. Saia Tu'itahi. He is being appointed to the West District beginning July 1, 2023.
Thanks to the East District Lay Leader and Lay Leader of the UMC of Twentynine Palms, Annie and Jun for attending along with Pastor Nesi and Michael. May 20, 2023 at Brandon's Dinner in Upland, CA.

01/23/2023

ONLINE BIBLE STUDY
Via Zoom on your mobile device/laptop/computer or call-in on your phone.
Every Tuesday at 7:00 p.m.
LECTIONARY STUDIES
Tuesday, January 24, 2023
Micah 6:1-8
6:1 Hear what the LORD says: Rise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice.
6:2 Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the LORD, and you enduring foundations of the earth; for the LORD has a controversy with his people, and he will contend with Israel.
6:3 "O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you? Answer me!
6:4 For I brought you up from the land of Egypt, and redeemed you from the house of slavery; and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.
6:5 O my people, remember now what King Balak of Moab devised, what Balaam son of Beor answered him, and what happened from Sh*ttim to Gilgal, that you may know the saving acts of the LORD."
6:6 "With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?
6:7 Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?"
6:8 He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?
Psalm 15
15:1 O LORD, who may abide in your tent? Who may dwell on your holy hill?
15:2 Those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right, and speak the truth from their heart;
15:3 who do not slander with their tongue, and do no evil to their friends, nor take up a reproach against their neighbors;
15:4 in whose eyes the wicked are despised, but who honor those who fear the LORD; who stand by their oath even to their hurt;
15:5 who do not lend money at interest, and do not take a bribe against the innocent. Those who do these things shall never be moved.
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01/15/2023

Happy New Year
By AMANDA ROOT
To get the most out of the new year, practice being grateful, and go for a walk with loved ones.
Happy New Year! What will 2023 bring for you? Time seems to go so fast, especially as we get older. I remember having this conversation with one of my grandpas when I was in my early thirties and he said, “How do you think I feel? You just wait…” Well, he was right. The older I get, the faster time seems to go. Third grade seemed to last forever, but 2022 is gone in a flash. So, how do we enjoy the moments we have without feeling like life is just passing us by?
— Develop a gratitude attitude. Human beings seem to have a bias toward negativity. Practice finding the good in every day. I have a sign in my office that says “Every day may not be good, but there is good in every day.” Take a moment — maybe before you go to sleep, maybe when you first wake up, or maybe when you are eating dinner with your family to say what was good in your day.
— Find a reason to laugh. Anyone who knows me knows I love to laugh — at myself, at jokes, at sarcasm. Laughter is good for us mentally and physically. It can lighten a mood, release endorphins, and make anything more fun! Find ways to laugh and better yet, find ways to make those around you laugh. Whether at work or home, laughing together creates tighter bonds.
— Exercise. Another of my favorites! I cannot say enough about this one. Exercise is my mental health saver. It helps me feel grounded. For a lot of people exercise has a negative connotation, but it doesn’t have to. There is no one size fits all. It doesn’t mean you have to go to a class, go for a run, or do things you hate. (That certainly isn’t going to lead to happiness!). Just move your body – maybe it’s walking, biking, lifting weights, yoga, swimming…the possibilities are endless. Do it alone, do it with friends, just do it!
— Find out what makes you tick. We spend a lot of time getting to know and understand other people, but there is so much value in getting to know ourselves. What drives you? What makes you feel fulfilled? What brings happiness? What causes anxiety? Ask yourself these questions. Observe yourself. Observe situations and how you react. Think about the why. There isn’t a right or wrong, but knowing and trusting ourselves brings peace and contentment that can’t be found anywhere else.
— Nurture positive relationships. The people we surround ourselves with are imperative to our outlook. Take stock of your relationships. It is ok to set boundaries with people who are not enhancing your joy. Spending time with people who understand you, push you in positive ways, and whom you trust will help you do the other things on this list.
— Create a bucket list and set goals for yourself. I am not one for New Year’s resolutions, but I do set realistic goals. When you take stock of yourself and your relationship, maybe you will find things you want to change. We all evolve and grow – being intentional about it helps us feel in control.
Happy New Year and welcome to 2023! grow – being intentional about it helps us feel in control. Happy New Year and welcome to 2023!

12/30/2022

12/21/2022

Christmas Eve Service

Yucca Valley UMC - 2:00 pm. Carols and Tidings All are welcome here!

Twentynine Palms UMC - 4:30 pm. Live nativity scene, caroling songs, and hot chocolate/tea/coffee. All are welcome here!

12/21/2022

THE LITTLE WHITE ENVELOPE

"It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it – overspending and the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was on the wrestling team at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them." Mike loved kids – all kids. He so enjoyed coaching little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed a small, white envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done, and that this was his gift from me.

Mike's smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year. And that same bright smile lit up succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition – one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The white envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children – ignoring their new toys – would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the small, white envelope never lost its allure.

The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree. And the next morning, I found it was magically joined by three more. Unbeknownst to the others, each of our three children had for the first time placed a white envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down that special envelope.

Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us."
For the Man Who Hated Christmas

(A true Christmas Story by Nancy W. Gavin, December 2015)

11/24/2022

Thankful for The Thorns

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then, in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease. During this Thanksgiving week, she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough, her husband's company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come. What's worse, Sandra's friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "Had she lost a child? No - she has no idea what I'm feeling," Sandra shuddered. Thanksgiving? "Thankful for what?" she wondered. For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The flower shop clerk's approach startled her. "Sorry," said Jenny, "I just didn't want you to think I was ignoring you." "I . . . . I need an arrangement." "For Thanksgiving?" Sandra nodded. "Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the 'Thanksgiving Special'?" Jenny saw Sandra's curiosity and continued. "I'm convinced that flowers tell stories, that each arrangement insinuates a particular feeling. Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this Thanksgiving?" "Not exactly!" Sandra blurted. "Sorry, but in the last five months, everything that could go wrong has."

Sandra regretted her outburst but was surprised when Jenny said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you." The door's small bell suddenly rang. "Barbara, hi!" Jenny said. She politely excused herself from Sandra and walked toward a small workroom. She quickly reappeared carrying a massive arrangement of green bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Only, the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped, no flowers. "Want this in a box?" Jenny asked. Sandra watched for Barbara's response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems and no flowers! She waited for laughter, for someone to notice the absence of flowers atop the thorny stems, but neither woman did. "Yes, please. It's exquisite." said Barbara. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I'd not be so moved by its significance, but it's happening again. My family will love this one. Thanks."

Sandra stared. "Why so normal a conversation about so strange an arrangement?" she wondered. "Ah," said Sandra, pointing. "That lady just left with, ah . . . " "Yes?" "Well, she had no flowers!" "Yep. That's the Special. I call it the "Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet." "But, why do people pay for that?" In spite of herself, she chuckled. "Do you really want to know?" "I couldn't leave this shop without knowing. I'd think about nothing else!" "That might be good," said Jenny.

"Well," she continued, "Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today. She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she faced major surgery." "Ouch!" said Sandra. "That same year, I lost my husband. I assumed complete responsibility for the shop and for the first time, spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel." "What did you do?" "I learned to be thankful for thorns." Sandra's eyebrows lifted. "Thorns?"

"I'm a Christian, Sandra. I've always thanked God for good things in life and I never thought to ask Him why good things happened to me. But, when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the flowers of life but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted and from His consolation we learn to comfort others." Sandra gasped. "A friend read that passage to me and I was furious! I guess the truth is, I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God." She started to ask Jenny to "go on" when the door's bell diverted their attention.

"Hey, Phil!" shouted Jenny as a balding, rotund man entered the shop. She softly touched Sandra's arm and moved to welcome him. He tucked her under his side for a warm hug. "I'm here for twelve thorny long-stemmed stems!" Phil laughed, heartily. "I figured as much," said Jenny. "I've got them ready." She lifted a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerated cabinet. "Beautiful," said Phil. "My wife will love them." Sandra could not resist asking, "These are for your wife?" Phil saw that Sandra's curiosity matched his when he first heard of a Thorn Bouquet. "Do you mind me asking, Why thorns?" "In fact, I'm glad you asked," He said. "Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but we slogged through, problem by rotten problem. We rescued our marriage - our love, really. Last year, at Thanksgiving, I stopped in here for flowers. I must have mentioned surviving a tough process because Jenny told me that for a long time she kept a vase of rose stems --- stems! --- As a reminder of what she learned from 'thorny' times. That was good enough for me. I took home stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific thorny situation and give thanks for what the problem taught us. I'm pretty sure this stem review is becoming a tradition." Phil paid Jenny, thanked her again and as he left, said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"

"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life, " Sandra said to Jenny. "Well, my experience says that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, Sandra, Jesus wore a crown of thorns so that we might know His love. Do not resent thorns." Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take twelve long-stemmed thorns, please." "I hoped you would, " Jenny said. "I'll have them ready in a minute. Then, every time you see them, remember to appreciate both the good and hard times. We grow through both." "Thank you. What do I owe you?" "Nothing. Nothing but a pledge to work toward healing your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me."

Jenny handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach a card like this to your arrangement but maybe you'd like to read it first. Go ahead, read it." My God, I have never thanked Thee for my thorn! I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorn. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear, teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow.
-Author Unknown

11/21/2022

The Story of Sarah's Vase
What a 7-year-old girl and a small yellow flower in a vase taught me about honor

Sarah’s parents were new to town, and she was just getting to know her classmates at church. As a second grader, she was full of energy and beaming with naughtiness. As Sarah’s Sunday school teacher, my wife provided me with a limitless supply of funny stories – Monday night dinner was usually served with Sarah’s latest antics. Everyone at church seemed to like her. She was simply an easy kid to fall in love with.

One Sunday my wife had prepared a lesson on being useful. She taught the children that everyone can be useful – that usefulness is serving God, and that doing so is worthy of honor. The kids quietly soaked up my wife’s words, and as the lesson ended, there was a short moment of silence. Then Sarah spoke up. “Teacher, what can I do?” I don’t know how to do too many useful things.”

Not anticipating that kind of response, my wife quickly looked around and spotted an empty flower vase on the window sill. “Sarah, you can bring in a flower and put it in the vase. That would be a useful thing.”

Sarah frowned. “But that’s not important.”

“It is, “replied my wife, “if you are helping someone.”

Sure enough, the next Sunday Sarah brought in a dandelion and placed it in the vase. In fact, she continued to do so each week. Without reminders or help, she made sure the vase was filled with a bright yellow flower, Sunday after Sunday. When my wife told our pastor about Sarah’s faithfulness, he placed the vase upstairs in the main sanctuary next to the pulpit. That Sunday he gave a sermon on the honor of serving others, using Sarah’s vase as an example. The congregation was touched by the message, and the week started on a good note.

The Tragic News
As a pediatric physician, I have developed an uncomfortable feeling about telephone calls. During that same week I got a call from Sarah’s mother. She worried that Sarah seemed to have less energy than usual and that she didn’t have an appetite. Offering her some reassurances, I made room in my schedule to see Sarah the following day. After a battery of tests and days of examinations, I sat numbly in my office, Sarah’s paperwork on my lap. The results were tragic.

On the way home I stopped to see Sarah’s parents so that I could personally give them the sad news. Sarah’s genetics and the leukemia that was attacking her small body were a horrible mix. Sitting at their kitchen table, I did my best to explain to Sarah’s parents that nothing could be done to save her life. I don’t think I have ever had a more difficult conversation than the one that night. Sarah’s mom looked me in the eye and with tears asked, “How can this happen? Why would God allow this?”

As doctors, we try everything to save a life. Sometimes we find ourselves wishing to trade our life for that of one of our patients, especially when they are as dear as Sarah. But sometimes, nothing can be done, and a tragic end is only a matter of time. Sarah was to have such an ending. Such a beautiful life, ended by such pain and anguish. It became difficult not to question the goodness of God in Sarah’s life.

A Final Flower
Time pressed on. Sarah became confined to bed and to the visits that many people gave her. She lost her smile. She lost most of her weight. And then it came: another telephone call. Sarah’s mother asked me to come see her. I dropped everything and ran to the house. There she was, a small bundle that barely moved. After a short examination, I knew that Sarah would soon be leaving this world. I urged her parents to spend as much time as possible with her.

That was a Friday afternoon. On Sunday morning church started as usual. The singing, the sermon – it all seemed meaningless when I thought of Sarah. I felt enveloped in sadness. At the end of the sermon, the pastor suddenly stopped speaking. His eyes wide, he stared at the back of the church with utter amazement. Everyone turned to see what he was looking at. It was Sarah! Her parents had brought her for one last visit. She was bundled in a blanket, a dandelion in one little hand.

She didn’t sit in the back row. Instead, she slowly walked to the front of the church where her vase still perched by the pulpit. She put her flower in the vase and a piece of paper beside it. Then she returned to her parents. Seeing Sarah place her flower in the vase for the last time moved everyone. At the end of the service, people gathered around Sarah and her parents, trying to offer as much love and support as possible. I could hardly bear to watch.

Sarah's Note
Four days later, Sarah died. I cancelled my morning appointments and sat at my desk, thinking about her and her parents, hurting. I remember the funny stories that my wife told about Sarah. I remembered the sweet sound of her laughter. I remembered that telephone call that brought the sadness.

Tears filled my eyes as once again I struggled not to question the goodness of God in allowing Sarah’s life to end in such a horrible way.

I wasn’t expecting it, but our pastor asked to see me after the funeral. We stood at the cemetery near our cars as people walked past us. In a low voice he said, “Dave, I’ve got something you ought to see.” He pulled out of his pocket the piece of paper that Sarah had left by the vase. Holding it out to me, he said, “You’d better keep this; it may help you in your line of work.”

I opened the folded paper to read, in pink crayon, what Sarah had written:

Dear God,
This vase has been the biggest honor of my life.

Sarah
Sarah’s note and her vase have helped me to understand. I now realize in a new way that life is an opportunity to serve God by serving people. And, as Sarah put it, THAT is the biggest honor of all.

~ By Dr. David Cerqueira

11/20/2022

Join us for Sunday worship tomorrow morning, 9am at Yucca Valley UMC. We have our combined worship service of the Morongo Basin Parishes. There will be no worship service at Twentynine Palms UMC for this Sunday only.
See you soon!