Monday, May 28, 2007

Memorial Day

Another Memorial Day has come and is almost gone. Flags wave, flowers and wreaths rest at the foot of various monuments and stones, soldiers salute, dignitaries have given speeches, people have had picnics, been boating, and have or are driving or flying back home.
It wasn’t always this way. Memorial Day used to be on the 30th of the month regardless of what day that happened to be. It used to be called “Decoration Day”. It used to be not observed in the South. And it used to have much more meaning than it now seems to have.
According to the US Memorial Day web site (www.usmemorialday.org), people are beginning to bring back the original and intended meaning of the holiday. Some are even advocating taking the day back to the 30th of the month (Sen. Daniel Inouye, a WWII veteran).
Those things are good and probably need to be at least considered, if not done. However, we as a people should take a collective look at our desire for leisure, recreation, and holiday and weigh it against our obligation to remember those who have gone before us, paving the way for us to have the best the world has to offer.
I know that the latter is not nearly as much fun as the former. But sometimes the better is not always the easier, or the more fun.
Do what you will this holiday. But along with it, take at least a couple of minutes to reflect on those who gave all they had for you. And while you’re at it, reflect on the One who, some two millennia ago, gave all He had for you and your obligation to Him.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

—By John McCrae

Monday, May 21, 2007

Charlie's Burgers

The wife is gone today visiting her family, so I took a cue from that and ate this evening at Charlie’s Famous Burgers down the street. I don’t know just how famous Charlie or his burgers are, but it was just what I expected. An older gentleman (my age) who was overweight and not very concerned about looking dapper was cooking in a kitchen that was about half the size of my office and much dirtier and greasier than my office ever thought of being. He had a helper with him who seemed competent, but hadn’t yet ingested all of the grease that Charlie had taken in over the years.
The menu was hamburgers, fries, and other fried foods. Not a salad to be found. No fruit cups. No yogurt. Just burgers, accessories, and variations thereof.
I got the Charlie special, which was a double cheese burger with fries and a drink. I got it to go and within five minutes was actually going on my way with a brown bag filled with hot fries and a burger. The grease was soaking through the bag and the smell was of old grease. What a wonderful meal this would turn out to be!!
The fries were the kind that everyone dreams of, but one seldom finds any more. You know, those cut from the unpeeled spud, all different sizes, limp, hot, and fresh. No McD’s uniformity here. The burger was seasoned a little TOO much, but was greasy and hot and good. The drink was what it was supposed to be.
Charlie runs his store out of a little building in a parking lot of a strip mall. The whole building is maybe 500 square feet, and includes 8 or so tables in varying states of cleanliness and repair. There’s a high table with bar chairs out front in a glassed-in area that is glass on three sides so you can see all around you. It probably was some kind of show area in the business that was there before Charlie.
The Charlies of this life are the people that make life interesting. Look for them next time you’re out and around. And if you can’t find any, do something different so you’ll run into them once in a while. I probably won’t go back for awhile. I think it’ll take time for the grease to leave my system. But Charlie and his helper certainly made an impression on me that I like. Thanks for the experience, Charlie.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Breaking Down Cubicles

We went to the dinner theater last night to see the production of Oklahoma on stage. We’ve seen it before, several times, but that’s one of those classics that you just go see from time to time just to make sure someone didn’t change the script. Sis came along with us and we had a good time at the show.
Those kinds of times are important in life, I think. No, it isn’t important that we go to the dinner theater once in a while. What is important is that we do something together, whether just the two of us, or whether someone else comes along, that is different and out of the routine. God meant for us to have the abundant life and when He said that, He didn’t mean abundant possessions. In fact, the Good Book says that Jesus said, “Take care! Protect yourself against the least bit of greed. Life is not defined by what you have, even when you have a lot.”
Even in the days of Jesus, people took time off from the everyday and routine to celebrate weddings, gather for common meals, observe holidays, etc. They seemed to truly enjoy those times and came together in common unity for the purpose of celebration and fellowship. Their times of celebration sometimes lasted several days, with food in abundance and all manner of conversation, laughter, and merriment.
We miss something in our sterile world of cubicle houses, cubicle transportation, and cubicle work environment. The cubicle mentality (isolation) stifles us and defeats any chance we have for true interaction and enjoyment of one-another. We have to work to break down the cubicles and allow true fellowship to occur.
That’s worth doing.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The Rains Came Down

“The rains came down and the floods came up….” So goes a line from that old VBS song about the wise man and the foolish man. If you recall the story, the wise man built his house on the rock and the foolish man built his on the sand. Then when the rains came, the foolish man’s house was washed away while the wise man’s house remained. Of course, the moral is that we are to build our lives on a good foundation.
I say all of that to say that the rains have come again today. Literal rains. They started about 4:30am and remain at 6:30. We’ve just gone through about a week of rain. The last three or four days have been nice. Now we have rain again. It appears, though, that it won’t last for days on end.
Why do we persist, even when we know better, to gripe about the weather? I wonder if somehow the weather connects us together as fellow sufferers (or fellow beneficiaries) of something over which no one has control. And I wonder if we somehow marvel at this phenomenon called weather just because no one has figured out a way to modify it, eliminate it, or tame it. Then when we’ve survived whatever it has handed to us, we feel like we’ve somehow overcome and conquered.
The radar says the rain is on its last gasp here, at least for an hour or two and maybe for good (this time around). That’s good, but it’s also good that it came even if some of us think we’ve had too much. After all, what do we know?

Monday, May 14, 2007

Where's the Beets?

My dear sister accused me, a few days ago, of having an attitude of having to slog through marriage, relationships, and life. It’s a long story (it always is when Sis is involved), but in sum, we were talking about love and soul mates. My comments were, in part, “Second, and this isn't a cliche, love is a learned thing. The things one feels when near someone who is pretty or charming isn't love. Love is something that is learned, practiced, and worked-on over and over again. Love is sometimes hard work.”
Her comment to that was, “You guys make it sound like it's the worst burden you will ever bear in your entire lives and that you're slogging through life, WORKING WORKING WORKING at this and then waking up the next day, WORKING WORKING WORKING at it all over again, and over again the next day. Sort of like picking three rows of green beans before dinner, or standing on a ladder in 103 degree heat picking cherries off a tree, or canning beets in an outbuilding that's 120 degrees inside, or digging a cellar with a spade, or driving a tractor with a 4 bottom plow and no hydraulics, looking at 159 acres to go.”
Now, I ask you in all fairness, what did I say that incited that kind of response? Am I incorrect that love is sometimes hard work? Actually, this is my blog, so I’ll just answer that question myself. No, I am not incorrect.
One other point. It may indeed be hard work, but hard work many times is pleasurable, productive, and profitable.
So, I’m here to say on the record and publicly, love is indeed hard work many times, but it’s been some of the most pleasurable hard work I’ve ever done in my life. Now, if I could just get these beets canned....

Thursday, May 10, 2007

This Culture

The Wichita River Festival is nigh upon us. In just a day or so downtown will be crammed with people, cars, and all that goes with such an event. It’s akin to the State Fair, it seems, with a nine day run and a heavy emphasis on separating folks from their money in some way, shape, or form.
That’s OK, though. We should be used to that by now. Our culture is one where the best and brightest are the ones who have perfected the knack of separating people from their money. We reward them with even more money, fame and notoriety. Us poor schmucks that allow them to do that to us, on the other hand, seem content to wallow in the bowels of anonymity and relative poverty, while continuing to hand over precious resources in exchange for such as a few miles traveled in a car (gasoline), beer, a latte, or a design on a pair of shoes.
Maybe I’m getting cynical in my old age. Maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be. But I can’t help but think of the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew, chapter 6) that talks of either serving God or serving mammon (money). He says we can’t do both, and that if we are money-servers, we also are of those who worry about what we will eat, wear, etc. He plainly says to not do that.
I have to wonder how I am faring in this world and culture.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Enough Rain

Well, we’ve had enough rain. At least in my own flawed judgment, we’ve had enough. What the Almighty has in mind, I don’t know.
Wichita actually was spared a lot of the worst of the rainfall. However, there are several creeks that flow into or near the city from other places, and the Arkansas and Little Arkansas rivers meet downtown. So we are having our share of flood warnings along with many others in the central and south-central parts of the state.
We own a home in Harper County and found out from the renter yesterday evening that water had run into the crawl spaces under the house. It soaked up the dirt to the extent that part of a supporting structure was compromised. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that, but the renter has said he’ll call someone down there that he and I both know, and have the man look at it for me. Whatever it is, it will be costly, I’m sure.
It is said that God works in His time. We’ve been praying in Kansas off and on for rain for the past five years or more. This spring, finally, he has chosen to end the ongoing drought in Kansas and other places in this part of the world. In a big way, God has chosen to provide water to nourish crops, flush away dirt and debris, and fill reservoirs.
I thought of the words of a verse of a short song this morning as I did my morning chores in the bathroom. I’ll end with them.

It is enough.
Earth’s troubles soon shall cease
And Jesus calls us to heaven’s perfect peace.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Antennae

I often have to wonder how and why some folks seem to be able to look at a situation and rather immediately perceive that something is amiss or not quite right. The actual situation can differ, but some people just seem to have a perceptive quality inside that seems to know instinctively that something will or will not happen, something is not quite right, or something is not as it should be.
I got that feeling yesterday when dealing with one of the girls. Although I had never been in that specific type of situation before, I got the distinct feeling that something wasn’t as advertised. I still have it. I don’t know if I’m correct or not as the situation hasn’t played out to the full. But it’s there…that feeling…in all it’s glory.
I’ve had the feeling before. And I’ve been wrong before. But I’ve also been right and seem to be right more often now than I used to be some time ago. I believe I can trust this feeling a little more than I used to be able to do.
Quite possibly, this quality in people is nothing remarkable or magical. My guess is that it is a quality that most humans have to process information, pick up on signs and clues that we have no idea we even perceive, and form some kind of opinion based on all of this information coming together somehow amongst our 4 quadrillion or so neural connections. This quality probably is honed and sharpened with experience and tends to work better in a mature mind.
What is it? Intuition? Hunch? Perception? Insight? Sixth sense? Whatever one calls it, it can work for good, but since it is only a guess (albeit a guess based on information and facts as we know them), we must treat it as such and work as objectively with the issue as possible. We can’t let feelings control us, but can indeed use them to help us live and get along in the world.
We’ll possibly see whether my gut is telling me the right thing or not in the next few days. Meanwhile, life goes on and the antennae remain (hopefully) receptive.