This Week

 Good morning.

 This week has been rather long and sometimes rather intense.  We’ve had to curtail our non-member benevolence for awhile because of so many who have needed help, and we just don’t have the funds in the budget for now, so I’ve had to explain to many over the past couple of weeks that we could not provide them with help with an electric bill or put gas into their vehicle.  Sometimes the conversations were relatively short, but sometimes the person wanted to talk, knowing we couldn’t help them.  They wanted to tell their story to someone who would listen.  And so we put aside what we were working on and just listened, asking pertinent questions at times to help fill in the gaps.

Additionally, we’re working with a couple of women, one of whom is a member and one who knows several in the congregation from past encounters.  Each of these women has sustained deep trauma.  Each has endured extreme emotional and mental pain…and sometimes physical pain.  Yet the ways we can help are very limited because we are not mental health professionals.  We are not counselors.  We don’t operate safe houses or provide long term child care.

I’ve told you before, but will say it again, “We can’t do everything, but we can do something.”  We do what we can with the resources we’ve been given.  One of the resources that we have lots of is time.  We can listen.  We can pray.  We can validate their humanness, treating them with dignity and respect.  And we’ve done all of that with these women…multiple times over.

Trauma doesn’t disappear overnight.  It’s a long, slow, bumpy, and sometimes scary road to take.  Yet these women and countless others we have no knowledge of are traveling that road in some way, shape or form.  Their courage and strength are incredible.  We’re just here to do what we can to keep them on the road and try to encourage them to move ahead.  They are the ones having to do the heavy lifting.

Some do it better than others.  Some fall off the road and have to find their way back.  Some stop in the middle of the road, frozen in fear or doubt.  Others are the encouragers, encouraging themselves even as they continue to encourage others on the road to recovery.  Most of them by far are women.  I have no doubt that men have much the same issues; however, they seem to be more reluctant to both admit it and seek the help they need.  And I think…my opinion, now…it is at least some of these men…men who refuse to get the help they need, who then traumatize, or further traumatize a woman already suffering trauma, by abusing, neglecting, or physically harming that woman.

On a more positive note, tomorrow is Friday.  I normally don’t work at the office on Fridays and tomorrow is no exception.  I plan to go to central Kansas with son Michael and grand Sterling to see the Big Boy Union Pacific steam engine as it makes its way across Kansas.  It will stop in Wilson for about 30 minutes, giving us and everyone else who shows up the opportunity to get a close-up view of the behemoth.

Steam engines are notoriously inefficient and consume lots of fuel, water, and man-hours of maintenance and care.  It is easy to see why diesel engines replaced the steam engines.  However, there is a certain nostalgia and wonder when it comes to those machines.  Their sheer size, noise, and power are a sight to behold and experience.  Especially for those of us who remember steam engines on daily runs pulling trains of cars, it’s a time of remembering and appreciating the day.

The Big Boy is the largest steam engine in the world, I believe, that is operational.  Union Pacific is passionate about its steam program and has another operational engine, the 844 “Living Legend.”  Considered the fastest steam locomotive in the world, it was delivered to the UP in 1944 and has never been retired from service.  The railroad sends these engines along with a car makeup regularly along its lines as roving ambassadors for the railroad.  It seems quite a success as there is a lot of time, energy, and money devoted to these trips.

So, we’ll be doing that tomorrow, the Lord willing.  I know it is forecast to be hot, but with the Big Boy around, it will be even hotter close up to the engine.  And it should be a good day.

Thank you for staying with me these years as I continue this video thought on most Thursdays.  I know I may sound like a broken record sometimes, but that is because I talk about life and living from my perspective…from my world view.  Everyone has a different way to see things, and I’m just giving you mine.  I respect yours, but have my own just as you do.  That’s what makes the world an interesting (to say the least) place.

Thanks again for listening.

 Blessings

Think About That

 Good morning.

 It is the unusual day at work when I do NOT have a request to be seen for some kind of benevolence.  Those requests come usually on the phone, but sometimes the one needing help comes to the building and asks to meet with me for a few minutes.  As you may already know, I work with the benevolence ministry at the church, among other responsibilities.

Sometimes, we are able to provide some kind of help for a need.  Other times the need is beyond what we are able to work with.  Or it could be that what we have to offer is not what they have need of.

Regardless of whether we are able to help or not, I always try to engage in conversation, asking about their current situation.  I try to keep the conversation centered on them, encouraging them to talk about both the difficulties they face as well as some of the better parts of their daily lives.  Most people usually respond positively to the conversation, and several have thanked me for just listening, even when we couldn’t help them in a material way.

One commonality I have noticed over the years in the lives of these people is the incredible difficulties they have in just getting through the day or week.  Living on the edge requires hard, difficult work.  It is physically, mentally, and emotionally draining.  It is complicated.  It is demanding.

Accessing whatever services that may be provided can be a mountain to climb rather than a molehill to step over.  They have to fill out forms…mostly online now…ask for an appointment time with a caseworker…and somehow find transportation to and from the appointment.  They may eventually be approved.  They may be denied.  They may need additional information that they don’t have readily available…a birth certificate, a government ID or the like.

They are put on waiting lists.  They stand in lines.  They have multiple needs and multiple issues to address.  They may have children who need constant supervision.  They need to find food, deal with a landlord who won’t fix the plumbing, enroll the kids in school and somehow find clothing and school supplies for them, obtain diapers and formula for an infant, and not miss a court date on the protection from abuse order they want issued to an ex.  And in the middle of all of this, they are expected to stand in line, spend hours on the hold on the phone, and navigate the sometimes incredibly complex world of government and even non-profit services.  I am amazed at the resilience of many of these people.

I was recently visiting with an immigration attorney in Wichita.  I asked her if she could quantify in just a few words the state and status of immigration in the nation.  She looked at me for a second, then she said three words.  “Confusing,” “complicated,” and “exhausting.”  I have no idea what it is like to work with immigration issues and the fact that the law is in many respects anything but clear and concise, but I do know that besides those descriptors, if someone uses legal services, it’s also expensive.  My guess is that relatively few who need an attorney can actually afford one at the standard rates.

If  you are living a life of relative comfort…if you don’t have to stand in line, waiting to see a caseworker…if you have food in your house adequate for your needs…if you have decent transportation, a roof over your head that doesn’t leak, Tylenol on the shelf for your minor aches and pains, plumbing that works as it should, transportation to get you to the doctor and supermarket, and clothing that is clean, you need to drop to your knees and thank God for the blessings.

And as soon as you get off your knees, determine what you may be able to do to make someone else’s day a little better.  What you may be able to do to make your corner of the world a little brighter and pleasant.  What you may be able to do to ease someone’s burden just a little.

And don’t let a judgmental attitude take over your thoughts when you see someone who is unhoused, someone driving an old, beat-up car, an older man on a bicycle with a wagon attached that has all of his worldly belongings on it, or someone who is using a food card to get groceries.  There but for the grace of God, that person could be you.

And understand that word “grace.”  A better way to say that sentence would be, “There but for the totally free and unmerited favor of God, favor that has nothing to do with who you are or what you’ve done, but rather was given you by God’s choice and pleasure, that person could be you.”  In other words, you did nothing…you could do nothing…to earn or deserve God’s favor.  You’re no more or no less “special” in God’s eyes than the homeless woman on the street corner who is asking for your loose change.

Think about that this week.

Blessings,

We're Back

 Good morning, and welcome!

 Well, we’re back.  We took a week off and traveled to Illinois for our annual Plank reunion last week.  The reunion is a three-day event at a camp and retreat center in northern Illinois operated by the Mennonite Church.  We’ve been “reunion-ing” for several decades now, and have been going to this particular place for the past several years.  The camp is spread out over about 280 acres, with a large pond (or small lake if you prefer), activities for the kids, things for adults to do, a nice pool, gymnasium, and motel-style accommodations.

Twenty eight of us were in attendance this year, which is fewer than normal.  If we all show up, there are upwards of fifty of us.  Seldom, however, in the decades past, has that happened.  Usually we’re about thirty five or so.  The camp provides buffet meals, clean sheets, and plenty of places to gather and just visit.

Decades ago, following the passing of our parents, the six of us siblings decided we would do everything within our power to maintain the family relationship, including nieces, nephews, grand kids, in-laws, out-laws, and those who just sort of hang on to and around the family.  We’ve been rather successful at it, I believe.

We seldom lack for something to talk about or visit about, and we seldom, if ever talk of politics or religion.  We will at times harken back to our roots in the Mennonite church, singing songs from that era or otherwise visiting about those times.  However, we are a very diverse lot nowadays, both in faith and in politics, so we stay away from those topics.

On our way to Illinois, the wife and I stopped in Branson for a couple of days.  We’ve been there several times before, and sort of know our way around.  We stay in a hotel just a block or so from the old downtown, so we usually don’t have to travel the strip much or get caught in traffic.

We perused the old downtown…the Five & Dime, the quilt shop, a restaurant, and some other places of interest.  We also walked the Branson Landing, not buying anything there.  We toured the Butterfly Palace…the second time we’ve been there…and attended a showing of “David” at the Sight & Sound Theater.

I always leave that theater…we’ve seen several shows there…wondering how they accomplished some of the special effects that we saw.  This time it was the waterfalls on stage as well as the animatronic Goliath who was slain by David the shepherd boy.  One of these days, I’d like to get a back-stage view, but I also know that won’t happen anytime soon.

One evening, we ate at an Italian restaurant off of the strip.  The place was recommended by my brother as a good place to eat.  We went in and were seated within just a few minutes, even though they were busy.  Our waiter got our drink order and brought them for us.  We then ordered our meals and waited.  While waiting, I happened to look down the aisle at another table a couple of tables away.  I saw a waiter kneeling in the aisle beside the table, holding two meals…one in each hand.  He was motionless…just there with the meals.  I had no clue what he was doing there.  I wondered if he had dropped something, or if he may not have been feeling well.  As I watched, he just remained there in that pose.

I then looked at the couple at the table.  They were praying.  The waiter had evidently come to the table at or close to the time the couple began praying, so he knelt beside the table with the meals, participating, I believe, with the prayer, then served the meals when they were finished.

In all my years, I’ve never seen such a thing.  I’ve seen wait people just not approach a table where prayer was going on, or quietly serve, refilling drinks, etc.  But never have I seen a wait person participate in a prayer time in a restaurant like that.  To say I was impressed is a gross understatement.

All in all, it was a good week away from the routine, and a time of refreshing family relationships.  We’re back, now, in the routine of life…washing dishes, going to work, cooking, cleaning, taking care of family business, and all the other things that make up life now.

I trust your summer is going well.  May God continue to shine his grace upon you as you navigate these next days in your life.

 Blessings.

Questions For You

 I served the Lord with great humility and with tears and in the midst of severe testing by the plots of my Jewish opponents.  You know that I have not hesitated to preach anything that would be helpful to you but have taught you publicly and from house to house.

I have declared to both Jews and Greeks that they must turn to God in repentance and have faith in our Lord Jesus.  However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.  For I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God.

 This is an excerpt from the Book of Acts, chapter 20 where Paul the apostle addresses the leaders of the church at Ephesus before he goes to Jerusalem.  He knows that he will be met with severe opposition there.  And indeed he was beaten by a Jewish mob and arrested by the Romans.  That incident led to his being sent to Rome In an appeal to the Caesar and his imprisonment for at least two years.

But I want you to put yourself in Paul’s place if you can, as you read what he said to the Ephesians.  Paul saw, heard, and communed with the risen Jesus Christ.  He was very well-versed in the prophecies of the Jewish scriptures regarding the coming of a Messiah.  He was able to perform miracles of healing and exorcism, and felt the power of the Holy Spirit in his life.

What he tells the Ephesian leaders is a succinct summary of his years of ministry.  He says he has served in ministry with humility, tears, and intense opposition.  Yet he continued to teach both publicly as well as more privately in small groups and even one-on-one.

This was Paul’s life.  This was his work.  This is how he spent his days…his time.  Paul was driven to, as he says, “proclaim to you the whole will of God.”

I asked you to put yourself in Paul’s place if you could as I reviewed for you his words to the Ephesian leaders.  I know we’ve not experienced the manifestations of Jesus Christ as Paul did.  I know we have not experienced a conversion quite like Paul did with the blinding light, the blindness, the healing, and all that came with those things.  Our conversion experiences are probably more, shall I say, conventional than Paul’s.

I had to personally wonder if I could come even close to having the mind of Paul that I see in his words to the Ephesian leaders.  I know I don’t have the same talents, abilities, and opportunities to teach as Paul did.  I can’t heal and exorcise demons.  I haven’t physically heard the words of a risen Jesus as he spoke to me.  I’m not a circuit-riding preacher.  But I do have a ministry.  And I have to wonder just how much I have encouraged others to “turn to God in repentance.”  I have to wonder just how much I have testified “to the good news of God’s grace.”  I have to wonder if I have unhesitatingly proclaimed “the whole will of God.”

And I have to wonder how many tears I have shed in humility, and if I really consider my life worth nothing to me, but rather desire to “finish the race and complete the task that the Lord Jesus has given me.”

I know I’ve asked a lot of questions…and I’m wondering if I dare answer them truthfully.  Putting oneself in the sandals of Paul the Apostle provokes a contemplation not often done.  It also evokes a certain terror, knowing his experiences with opposition, pain, suffering, and prison.

Our culture, I think, tends to make us lazy.  We tend to become lukewarm in our faith.  We don’t see the need to bother our neighbor, our relative, or our friend with the good news.  We become satisfied with life as it is, assuming it will always be.

Paul was a man driven.  A man on a mission.  A man who knew the eternal importance of what he was doing.  A man who had given himself totally over to the work of God.

Eternal reality demands that we look honestly at the life of Paul, and the lives of those others who have given and are giving their lives over to the Lord.  How do we measure up?  What are some things we need to shed from our lives?  What are some things we need to clothe ourselves with?  How can we better fulfill our responsibility to serve our Lord and Savior?

May we all, with prayer and guidance from the Spirit of God, seek to serve our Lord as He would have us do in the days that remain for each of us.

An Old Song

 Good morning.

For some reason this morning, as I was doing normal office-type things at the office, the first line to the words of an old, not-often-sung hymn titled “Sometimes the Shadows Are Deep” written in 1871 by Erastus Johnson came to mind.  Now, you may not recognize this hymn because it is not often sung anymore, and its message is not one of joy and happiness.  I don’t know why the words of this song came to me today.  Sometimes things like that just pop  up in my mind and then remains there all day, asking me to consider the meaning of whatever that thing may be.

In the event you may not know the song, here is the first of three verses.  O sometimes the shadows are deep.  And rough seems the path to the goal.  And sorrows, sometimes how they sweep like tempests down over the soul!

As I said, the song is not one of rainbows and unicorns.  I did some research on the song, and found that Mr. Johnson wrote the song as a result of the financial panic of 1871, begun in Chicago as an aftereffect of the Great Chicago Fire.  The panic spread to those who had been wildly speculating on railroads and real estate, resulting in bank runs and insolvency of financial institutions.  In those days, there was no Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation to guarantee the liquidity of bank deposits.  Everyone was pretty much on their own.  The economy spiraled down with a renewed depression beginning in 1873 that lasted almost 20 years.

However, let’s not stop with just the first verse of the song.  Because Mr. Johnson brings the thoughts of the poem around to the Rock of stability in the midst of great uncertainty and panic.  Here’s what he says in the song.

 O sometimes how long seems the day, And sometimes how weary my feet; But toiling in life's dusty way, The Rock's blessed shadow, how sweet!

3. O near to the Rock let me keep If blessings or sorrow prevail, Or climbing the mountain way steep, Or walking the shadowy vale.

And then the chorus:  O then to the Rock let me fly, To the Rock that is higher than I; O then to the Rock let me fly, To the Rock that is higher than I!

It has been many decades since I sang this song in a church service.  I have no clue why those words suddenly appeared in my thoughts today.  I’m not especially burdened, depressed, or otherwise in the dumps.  Perhaps it’s the message of the last part of the song and the chorus that was meant for me today.  God is indeed compared to a rock in Scripture…a symbol of stability and refuge.  Other hymns have been written with that thought in mind as well.  Rock of Ages comes to mind immediately.  You may be able to think of others.

Yes, in life we have to deal with the uncertainties.  We have to pivot at times from where we were heading to go in an entirely different direction.  We don’t know what the future holds for us.  Our priority list sometimes gets upended with a phone call, text, or letter.  We sometimes have to scramble to just make it through the day.  I get it.

But for those of us who are children of God, there is a refuge from the uncertainties and turmoil of everyday life and living.  The God who sees and knows all is not flustered by the happenings in our lives.  He’s not in heaven wondering what He will do now that things have apparently gone south.  He isn’t calling a meeting of his angels for suggestions on how to handle the situation.

No, He is very much aware of past, present, and future, knows exactly what He is doing and why, and is working to carry out His will & plans even when it seems like nothing is moving…nothing is happening.  Our job is not to panic, but to trust.  And that’s the theme of the song.  As much as it goes against our grain as human beings, our job is trust instead of panic, peace instead of chaos, faith instead of doubt.

Some of the Psalms of David demonstrate this very well.  He wrote several Psalms during his exile and flight from Saul.  He sometimes wondered where God was or what God was doing.  But then at the end of the Psalm, David broke out in praise to his creator and Lord, trusting in his God.

One of those Psalms may well be the 28^th Psalm.  I’ll close with a portion of it.  And this Psalm, by the way, is one of those places in Scripture that refers to God as a Rock.

To you, Lord, I call; you are my Rock, do not turn a deaf ear to me.

For if you remain silent, I will be like those who go down to the pit.

2Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place.

And then David says,

7The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.

My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.

Blessings,

A Conversation

 Good morning.

 As you may already know from observation as well as hearing about it on the news and in other places, there is a segment of the population which does not have a place they can call home.  They live on the street, in parks, in cars, or sometimes with friends.  They often have no money or source of income.  They often are relatively easy to spot due to their attire and general lack of cleanliness.  They are the homeless population.

We in the homed population often don’t understand why some people are homeless.  We tend to adopt an “out of sight…out of mind” attitude toward them.  We often are leery of getting too close to them physically…sometimes out of fear and sometimes just because we don’t want to see how some people survive day to day.  And we often have short and pat answers to their homelessness.  “Get a job,” is one of the most common platitudes we spout as we drive by an encampment.

According to Sedgwick County commissioner Ryan Baty, there are approximately 2,000 unhomed individuals in Wichita and surrounding area.  Of those, about 1,600 will find housing within a reasonable period of time.  For those 1,600, homelessness is a temporary setback that they can work out of reasonably well.

About 200 of the homeless are more chronically unhoused, and are taking advantage of resources that are available to help them get out of the homeless whirlpool and into housing.  The Second Light shelter is one of those places in Wichita which provides support for those in that category.

The remaining 200 are the chronically unhoused who are either unable or unwilling to take advantage of the kinds of resources which can help them with a solution to their homelessness.  Commissioner Baty describes them this way.  He says, “We simply call (these people the) ‘hardest to engage.’  These are often individuals with severe and persistent mental illness, debilitating addiction, or a developmental disability.  Many of these folks simply cannot sustain independent housing, even if given to them.  We no longer institutionalize as a society for a variety of reasons — and there are no viable group homes with this level of acute care.  Many of these individuals aimlessly wonder, mostly in downtown, where food services exist.  It’s heartbreaking.”

This is Jay again.  Many of these 200 are mentally ill or emotionally so crippled that they are unable to make the decisions necessary to take advantage of the kinds of services which could help them become housed.  It is these 200 which are the most difficult to work with or help in any way, no matter how much we in the homed community would like to help.

The issues with these folks often seem to be intractable.  The mentally ill cannot be involuntarily committed for treatment unless they are a danger to themselves or others.  They will not voluntarily commit to treatment…some aren’t capable of making that decision.  Others don’t want to do so.  Additionally, few beds and little money are available to provide the necessary treatment.

If someone does go through treatment, they often are dismissed with a prescription for medication they cannot afford, and don’t understand that they need that medication on an on-going basis.  There is often little follow-up with someone who had been in treatment to determine needs.  Transportation is an issue for many…getting to the pharmacy or to an appointment.  Finding a job and a way to support oneself is difficult, especially if one has no legal identification, which is not at all unusual.

Even obtaining an ID card can take months of running through the bureaucratic red tape.  Without an ID, there is no Social Security or disability or other benefits.  Housing is virtually non-existent.  Access to services is problematic.  Going to work is out of the question.  With no ID, a person effectively becomes a non-person in the eyes of many.

Commissioner Baty, who I mentioned earlier, is taking a bold step.  He is organizing a round-table discussion for later on this summer, keying in on those approximately 200 unhoused who are the most difficult to work with productively.  I don’t know who will be a participant in the discussion, but I know I want to hear what is said.

I have often said that I don’t have the answers to a lot of these kinds of questions.  And I’m not even sure I know the questions to ask.  Ryan is at least putting the questions out in public, along with any possible answers.  That’s progress.  I don’t know if any answers will come of the discussion.  The group may not get much farther than understanding the questions.  But I suspect Ryan will keep at it for as long as he believes things are moving along toward some kind of solution.

We may have to change some laws regarding mental health treatment.  We will have to provide better public education.  Somehow, we will need to find the resources to provide the services these folks need, and will take advantage of.  And, we may have to understand that we may not be able, despite our best efforts, to shelter and serve everyone.

This promises to be an interesting discussion…one in which I am very much interested.  I hope you too will have an interest and participate in it.

Thank you for listening.  May your day be blessed and may you be a blessing to others.

Memorial Day 2026

 Good morning!

 It was a pleasant Memorial Day weekend overall for the Plank family this year.  In addition to the traditional placing of flowers and plants on the graves of loved ones, remembering them as we did so, we also gathered together on Saturday afternoon to celebrate Gabe’s graduation from high school.  There was good conversation and not a small amount of food at Scott & Laura’s.  They can put on a pretty good scene at times.

Then that evening we all gathered for a hot-dog roast at our place.  The kids played outside and in the park behind us, and us old folks mostly sat and visited, catching up on times past as well as looking ahead to the future.  We especially enjoyed watching the smaller kids manage to cook hot dogs and marshmallows over the open fire, and Zach kept the fire pit stoked with lumber from time to time as the evening got cooler.

Sunday was the normal worship services, with a moment of silence to remember those who had gone before, and especially those who gave their lives in service.  Sunday evening some of us went to Sterling to swim and indulge in homemade ice cream at one of Pat’s relatives.  This gathering at Bob and Lynn’s is quickly becoming a tradition…one that the kids especially like, as the pool is heated and there’s a slide as well.

And Monday we helped Laura clean up the graduation stuff, taking the borrowed tables and chairs back to where they came from.  That afternoon, we went to Harper to pick up the flowers and plants at the cemetery.

Monday evening, we were called regarding Pat’s sister-in-law, who was in hospice care.  She had taken a turn for the worse, and we went to be with her and with Pat’s brother.  We stayed for awhile and visited with others in the family.  Becky passed away about 1am the following morning.  Services will be held Saturday.

It’s been a full weekend.

Becky had been admitted to Hospice House, an inpatient facility in Hutchinson.  It’s visually similar to a small hospital in many ways, but has an entirely different purpose.  The layout of the facility is geared to families and those who are visiting loved ones.  Those who work there have a special heart for the work, and care for the families as much as they do the patient.  At Hospice House, there’s no such thing as a nurse that is too busy to stop and visit for a few minutes.  There are no loud noises, clanking of medical machinery, or noisy carts going down halls.  There’s no, “We don’t allow that here.”

Yes, there are indeed rules.  But there is also compassion and a true desire to serve…at least on the part of those I encountered there.  I don’t know who the nurse is who was assigned to Becky.  But I do know from my experiences in health care and Pat’s work in hospice in the past that this woman knew exactly what she was doing.  She knew exactly what we were thinking.  And she knew exactly what to say, how & when to say it, what to do, and how & when to do it.  If ever I saw a health care provider who combined the art of medicine with the equally important art of compassion and care, it was her.  And I’m speculating that everyone else who works there is equally compassionate, caring, and professional.

So, looking ahead because of Becky’s passing, I see family gatherings, a memorial service, some travel, and a lot of visiting.  As an In-law, even though we consider ourselves all family, I pretty much stay on the sidelines unless invited or asked.  It’s the only appropriate thing to do.  Anything else would be inserting myself into a place where I shouldn’t be.

Going to a cemetery where loved ones are buried can be an humbling and yes, even emotional experience.  The one we go to for the Plank family…the church of my childhood’s cemetery…has both relatives and friends of mine.  Aunts, grandparents, parents, uncles, shirt tail cousins, and friends are there.  People I’ve known, especially in my young days in the church are there.  And those friends of mine who are there…many of those friends were my age or even younger when they passed.

There are some in that church cemetery I don’t know.  And there are some there who were very young…infants and small children who possibly had been caught up in some epidemic of some kind in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s.  It is good, I think, to just walk the rows of stones and remember again that person whose remains are a few feet underground.

I also remember having to mow the cemetery as a boy.  Although it’s only three or so miles out of town, it felt like the middle of nowhere in the summer heat for a boy of 10 or 11 years old.  There was no water, no phone, no buildings, and no shade.  I had an 18 inch mower, and my older brother, who mowed with me, had a 20 inch mower.  We didn’t cut a very wide swath.  It took most of a half day to get it all cut.  The stones at that time had no concrete base, so we had to trim around the stones with hand trimmers once we were finished mowing.

I’m not complaining.  Although I didn’t enjoy the work then, I know now it “built character,” as my Dad would say, and as I now say to my grand kids from time to time.

 

Thanks for listening.  I trust your next days will be fruitful and pleasant.

 

Blessings.

Read & Re-read

 Good morning!

 One of my social media friends recently said, in response to a re-post I did of Farmer Girl’s take on Psalm 22, “Scripture is truly amazing sometimes.  We just need to read and reread both the Old and New Testament.”  Side note here:  Farmer Girl, if you don’t know, is a woman in Washington State whose job is caring for newborn Jersey calves.  She doesn’t own them…it’s her job to care for them.  She also writes prolifically, many times regarding some portion of Scripture.  She has, get this, over a quarter of a million followers.  I “found” her several months ago.  Since then, several of my friends have also begun to follow her on social media.

However, I want to concentrate today on my friend’s comment rather than Farmer Girl’s post.  Her amazement, I believe, came about because of the specific wording in Psalm 22 having to do with Jesus being crucified centuries later than the Psalm was written.  The Psalm speaks of people gambling for clothing, pierced hands and feet, bones out of joint (not broken, dislocated), and extreme thirst.  Jesus quotes a portion of the Psalm on the cross.  The religious leaders also, unknowingly, quote a portion.  The Psalm, written dozens of generations before crucifixion was even a thing, is uncanny in it’s similarity with the reality of the crucifixion.  That is what my friend was referring to in her comment.

But, why does she advocate a reading and re-reading of Scripture?  Why take the time to read Scripture in the first place?  And why would someone want to read something a second time?  Or a third time?  Why, perhaps, re-read something that one may have memorized long ago and can still quote verbatim?  Why is it that people the world over recommend reading and also re-reading Scripture?

First, if one doesn’t initially read Scripture…that is, read it the first time…that person won’t know what is there.  Oh, someone may hear snippets and portions of the Bible in sermons, classes, or in conversation with others.  But to really know what is there means to be reading it in some way.  Reading can consist of the normal way of reading.  It can also be audio Bibles or other means of absorbing what is in the text.  How foolish it is to think one knows the content of a book…any book…not having read it.  And, that needs to be virtually a cover-to-cover reading…not just here and there reading.  Not just a Cliff’s Notes reading.

Second, why re-read?  Like much good literature, the Bible is a book that, when read a second, third, or tenth time, spills out additional information and truth that a first reading just doesn’t allow.  A first time read is one that allows a general, overall view of the material.  It takes a re-read, or several re-reads, to absorb much of the content that is overlooked on first read.  Farmer Girl, when reading Psalm 22, already knew what was in the Gospel accounts of the crucifixion, and could easily compare the two.  She also knows something of the history of the text…that the Psalm was written centuries before there was even such a thing as crucifixion…that it was written by King David…that it foretold in exact detail the happenings of centuries later.

But perhaps most of all, Scripture needs to be read, re-read and read yet again because of its source.  All Scripture, Paul the great Apostle said, is inspired by God.  We believe, on good authority by Paul as well as untold thousands of other sources, ways, and means, that God is the ultimate author of the Bible.  Yes, humans wrote the text.  Those humans, we believe, were guided in their writing by God Himself as they set down the words, phrases, and books of the Bible.

You may say, “Well, that’s really a hard line to swallow.  I just can’t buy that.”  And many people say exactly that.  But, what if it’s really true that God inspired humans to write the words that became the Bible?  What if it really is that way?  Are you willing to take a chance and turn your back on what may just be God’s message to humanity?  Are you willing to gamble your life and your relationship with the God of the universe on the fact that you find it really difficult to accept the notion that God is the ultimate author?

It seems to me that’s like playing Russian roulette.  Only one bullet in the magazine.  Six possibilities.  Surely, it won’t fire this time.  But what if it does?  Are you willing to take that chance?

I hope and trust you will see the Bible for what it is…God-breathed truth.  The more you read…the more you study…the more you compare various texts of the Bible…the more you understand its history and the times referred to in it…the more you see the overall, overarching story of God’s love for His creation…you’ll become, I believe, one who is knowledgeable enough of it that you can put together a story of love, forgiveness and redemption…God reaching out to His creation in order to reconcile it…mankind included…to Himself.  May you receive blessing today as you read, study, and ponder God’s word.

Varied Thoughts

 Good morning.  It has been a couple of weeks since I’ve posted a Thought.  This past weekend, RiverWalk hosted Keith and Sharon Lancaster, founders of Acappella Ministries and creators of the several vocal groups who sing Christian songs acappella, or without the use of instruments.  Acappella Ministries has several other arms to it…one of them being the Songfest weekends that take place in churches around the country.  Keith and Sharon travel to the churches and host times of learning new Christian songs and singing the old hymns, all in four-part harmony without instruments.  We hosted such an event this past weekend.

I was the coordinator and point person for the event, so was preoccupied for the last few weeks getting everything organized.  We also had many volunteers helping us, as these events attract people not from our church.  We had folks from central Kansas, Oklahoma, and other areas…over 250 gathered to sing songs of faith and praise to God, using only our voices, both Saturday and Sunday.

In our faith tradition, we normally never use instruments to accompany our singing.  We also normally use music arranged in four-part harmony.  Some other faith traditions, usually in the more conservative realm, also sing without accompaniment.  Some of those folks were with us Saturday, and possibly Sunday for the singing and services.

These past weeks have also been tough regarding benevolence.  We’ve had many requests for gasoline…many more than normal due to the price of fuel.  Things are getting harder for those who were barely making a go of it in the past.  My concern is that some of those who have been able to keep a roof over their family’s head are now at a point that they may no longer be able to do so, and we’ll have more in the street than we’ve had in the past.

The issue (I don’t refer to homelessness and poverty as “problems,”) is incredibly complex, requiring much more than slick, one-line answers that easily roll out of one’s mouth.  Everyone has to be on board.  Government can’t do it alone.  Non-profits and faith communities can’t do it alone.  Individuals can’t do it alone.  It takes us all working together, understanding the issues first, then working collaboratively with each other and with the homeless and poverty communities on solutions.  If we try something that isn’t working, we need to back out and go down a different path.  It may take some time, effort, and failed attempts to get it right.  However, when push comes to shove, we really have no other options long-term.

On a more positive note, this is the time of the year for graduations, for celebrations, and especially in June, weddings and anniversary celebrations.  School is (or will be) out for the summer.  Teens will have summer jobs.  The pools and splash pads will be open.  And for those who can afford to do so, it’s vacation time.  The Planks are planning yet another annual reunion which we plan to attend.  We’ll leave a couple of days early and take in a few things at Branson before heading to Illinois for the reunion.  Beyond that this year, I don’t know if or where we may travel.

Last year, we made a week out of traveling in Western and Northern Kansas, visiting places we knew or knew about, since we both have lived in those areas in the past.  It was a time of relaxed travel on sparsely-traveled Western Kansas roads, and visiting some places we hadn’t taken the time to see when we lived in the area.  We enjoyed seeing those places, and visiting with one or two friends along the way whom we hadn’t seen in quite some time.  We are grateful we can do those things during this time in our lives.

This Thought has been kind of a combination of thoughts from the past couple of weeks.  I know it isn’t what you usually find in this space, but it’s what is on my mind now.  Thank you for listening, and thank you also for your generosity and willingness to help when and however you can to make your corner of the world a better place.

 Blessings.

Stress

 Good afternoon.

 Sometimes, regardless of your place in life…whether younger or older, working or retired, raising kids or done with that part of life, married or single…regardless of your place in life, there are times when the stresses of everyday modern life seem to pile up.  Those stresses could be in the form of family relationships, financial issues, work-related issues, or health concerns.  Or they could be some of any number of other issues and concerns.  They could be of your own making, or they could be entirely outside of your control.

 The stress and strain you are feeling could be relatively mild, or it could be pretty much overwhelming.  However, when things seem to begin piling up in life, even the mild stresses can seem to be insurmountable.  The human body can handle only so much of that kind of thing before it begins to rebel.  If allowed to go too far, the body can literally shut down in many key areas, rendering someone pretty much non-functional.

 Dealing with the stresses of life are part of life and living.  It really doesn’t matter if you’re in a Western culture like ours, or if you’re living in a third world area.  The cause of the stress may be different, but it’s there nevertheless.  How one deals with stress is vital to the well-being of the human that is being stressed.

 So, how do you handle stress?  Some work out physically in some way…jogging, the “Y,” sports, or other forms of physical exertion.  Others act in a more subdued manner…reading a book, listening to music, being in nature, going on a drive, or visiting a friend.  Some will find other outlets…shopping, playing games, eating, going to a movie, or something comparable.

 I like to sit out in my back yard and just watch and listen.  Even in cooler or warmer weather, I like to take in the nature that is there and in the park just behind our rear fence.  I also like to go for a drive at times, mostly in rural areas.  Music is an escape for me as well.  Sometimes songs of faith and praise…sometimes the classics…sometimes easy listening.

 Whatever your way of dealing with the stress of the day, doing so is vital to your well-being and overall health.  Don’t cut short your stress-relieving activities.  Don’t continue to pile stress on top of stress without relief.  Your body can take so much…then it will say, “No, I’m not going any farther.  You’ll just have to do without me.”  Then you are forced to deal with it whether you want to or not.

 One thing I haven’t yet mentioned as a stress reliever is something that works surprisingly well.  Many people read.  Some read history; some fiction; some biographies.  A surprising number of people open their Bibles and read chapters and even entire books from the Bible.  It can be an extremely good way to turn down the stress level and find some answers to what is the bother.

 My goal with this thought was to help you as you navigate the stresses and strains of life.  May God bless you in the days ahead.

The Last Move

 We have been friends with our neighbor immediately to our south ever since we’ve lived where we do now…going on 18 years.  Sharon and Rick have been good neighbors for us, and we hope they feel the same about us.

Rick and Sharon were the developers and contractors that built all of Shelly’s Orchard Addition where we live.  There are three or four basic home designs in the area.  The houses are well-built, sturdy, roomy, and the neighborhood is quiet and peaceful.  There is an HOA, but Rick is the only officer, and he has chosen over the years to not be picky.  We pretty much police ourselves in the neighborhood, and get along pretty well, overall.  We’ve learned that eccentricity usually is not something that should be concerning to us, that other cultures can and do enhance the “flavor” of the neighborhood, and that we indeed are our neighbor’s keeper at times.

Rick has had ongoing, chronic medical issues over the years, and is now in a care facility.  Sharon is in good health and continues to live at the house next door.

Yesterday Sharon was having a garage sale, getting rid of some items no longer needed.  I wandered over there before coming to work, and we visited a bit.  During the conversation, she told me that she would be moving and selling the house in a year or so.  We visited a bit more, then we excused ourselves and I came in to work.

On the way in, I thought about Sharon and Rick no longer being next door to us.  Then I thought of all of the other changes in home ownership in the neighborhood.  Only a few of the homes within a couple of blocks of us are occupied by the same people who were there when we moved in.  When those others moved away, I didn’t think a lot about it other than we were going to miss them, their kids, or some other aspect of their having been in the neighborhood.

But when Sharon said she was moving, it hit me a lot harder.  Rick and Sharon have, at least to me, been the anchors of the neighborhood.  They have always been friendly, helpful, and pleasant.  The creators of the whole addition, Rick and Sharon have provided dozens of families houses that have become homes.  They have provided new neighborhood friendships.  They have expanded our world views.  They have enabled Pat and me to minister to several in the neighborhood, including them, when some kind of need came up.  Whether they realize it or not, they have made the world a better place for many of us, and have given us in these past 18 or so years the home we really needed at this stage in life.  The entire neighborhood owes a debt of gratitude to them.

I also thought about the fact that in life, whether we like it or not, things never stay the same.  They always are in a state of change.  Oh, one may not see any changes over a 24 hour period, or over a week, or even a month.  But change is there, slowly and surely doing its work.  Life may appear to be rocking along in some kind of constant mode, much like many of the comic strips in the newspaper era did…no one aged…no one died…no one moved.  For those who remember, think Beetle Bailey.  Think Blondie.  Think Dick Tracy.  Think Peanuts.  But real life isn’t like that.  We may appear to be like we were years ago, but then suddenly, we see the change taking place right out in the open.  We see the moving van backed up to the garage door.  We see the neighbors drive away for the last time.  And we know that change has been constantly working over the years, bringing life to this point in time.

And those thoughts brought me to this:  One of these days, Pat and I will leave our home on Lydia for the last time.  We’ll either leave in a car, an ambulance, or a hearse.  We’ll move to a patio home, a nursing home, or some other place that we’ll do our best to make our home.  Or maybe just one of us will leave to create a new home.  The other will have passed on to eternity.  And a new family will move into the house we’ve enjoyed for these years, and they will then enjoy the fish pond, the park, the neighbors, the fire pit, and all the rest.

I know this Thought has not been all that upbeat.  But that’s what I’m thinking and feeling today.  Life goes on.  Things change. 

And, on a related thought, I thought about how things naturally move, over time…sometimes a long time, into a state of disorder.  That’s called entropy, and there’s a physical law which describes it.  It’s called, the Second Law of Thermodynamics. 

Sir Arthur Stanley Eddington is quoted as saying this about entropy, “The law that entropy always increases, holds, I think, the supreme position among the laws of nature.”  Unquote.

 But hen we bring God into the equation, things suddenly change and entropy doesn’t get the last move.  Farmer Girl, a young woman I follow on social media, said this recently when writing about change, disorder, and the second law.  I really like her take on change and chaos and how God views it.  She writes this piece that I will quote.  In the quote, she references the card game UNO.

   Yes, the world right now may feel like a game where someone keeps stacking wild cards and you are questioning all of your life choices while holding a hand that makes no sense.  Everything around you may currently be trending toward chaos because that is literally how this broken world operates, and there is no denying that reality.  But entropy only gets a say in the process and it does not get the last move.

 God does.

 So, friend, as you contemplate the change in your life and the lives of those you know and love, also know that God always gets the last word.  God always gets the last move.  God always wins.

 Blessings,

God's Pathway

 We've lived at our current home for 18 years, which, in case you don't know yet, backs up to the west side of Pawnee Prairie Park in west Wichita.  The park is over a mile and a half long and a mile wide.  Kellogg is the north edge.  The south edge is well beyond Pawnee, which does NOT cut into the park.  East is Tyler Road and the airport, and to the West the park goes to just East of Maize Road.  The Cowskin creek runs through the middle of the park.  There are several walking/riding paths in the park...some of which are paved and really easy to find and enjoy.  Others are more inside the park...in the woods...sometimes in the thick of the woods.  The paths inside the woods are many and varied, with most of them connecting or crossing in some way with one or more other paths.

I've walked most all of the paths of the park.  I know where they commence and where they end or connect with another path.  I can take you on these paths to areas of the park where you think you're miles from any civilization.  No signs.  No paved paths.  No visual clues as to where you are or what direction you're facing.  No homes, vehicles, or other people are visible or heard.

I’ve taken my grand kids into the park on those inside pathways on numerous occasions.  They enjoy exploring them, and will stop at each intersection of pathways to ask me which way to go.  Sometimes, I tell them directly.  Other times, I let them choose, because I know where each path goes, and know we will eventually arrive at the place where I want to end up.

We can walk for 20, 25, or 30 minutes and will, because I know where the pathways go, eventually arrive at a place inside the park where some paths cross that are seemingly very far from any sign of civilization.  That place is a favorite of mine…one that I know well.  At that spot, you would never know, unless you could see the sun, hear an aircraft take off from the airport, or hear Kellogg traffic, which is rare, where you were or which path to take if you wanted to exit the park.  I do know.  And I also know that at that place in the park that seems so far from any sign of civilization, that we are only about three minutes from our back yard.

The path to our back yard is one that is strewn with fallen tree limbs and dead branches.  It's one of the more difficult paths in the park because of all of the debris along the way.  Yet, and this is important, the place where we're standing at that path crossing, deciding which path to take…that place is only 2 ½ minutes away from our back yard IF we take the right path.  That right path, strewn with obstacles, will get us to the house and to civilization within a very few short minutes.

So, why do I tell you this?  Well, let's look at a life lesson or two.  We may be in the middle of what we think is a no-win situation...no way out...no compass to guide us...no help to get us to a better place.  We may look around us and see nothing but darkness and obstacles.  We don’t know which direction to go when presented with several possible paths.  We can't (figuratively speaking) see the sun to get our bearings or hear the aircraft take off from the nearby airport to have some idea where we are.  We are lost.

However, in reality, we may well be only a couple of minutes away from that better place.  The path there may have downed tree trunks and branches galore, so to speak, but if we trust someone we know who knows the way and take that path they suggest, we may well break out into the sunshine very shortly.

Now, if you get the drift of my words, please don't think that I am equating myself with God here as someone who can lead you out of your predicament.  I just happen to be one in my story who knows where the paths go and where we are in the park.  I know that I myself have called on God more than once while in the park when dusk has fallen more quickly than I expected, and I wasn't sure I could see the landmarks that I needed in order to maintain my bearings.  I've never been lost, but have had some, shall we say stressful minutes as I made my way out with, I believe His guidance.

And, I certainly have called on Him in life’s trials, not knowing where to take that next step…not knowing what decision to make…not knowing how it will turn out…unable to see the landmarks that tell me where to go.  And much of the time as I look back in life, I see things didn’t turn out as I thought they would or should…we usually ended up in a better place than what I would have found had I not listened to the One who sees the beginning and the end.  God’s pathway out was sometimes a difficult one…but was the right one.

I don't know what you're going through right now.  It could be financial difficulty.  It could be medical, relational, vocational, school-related, or one of any number of difficult situations.  But often, if we will just, as the old saying goes, “Let go and let God,” we may find that obstacle-strewn path to be the one that will bring us to a better place and a better time.  It's the “letting go,” that is difficult.  It is giving up control, giving up trying to finagle, a word I like to use, things so they will turn out as we think they ought.

Our God is willing and able to give you a pathway out.  His path out may be his telling you, “My grace is sufficient for you,” and allowing the difficulty to refine and purify you for a time.  Or it may be some kind of direct intervention to relieve you of your difficult situation.  I've had both of those answers in my days on earth.

But, God is always, always faithful.  Even in the middle of great trial, God is faithful.  God is good.  Look for His path out, even if it appears to be a path to nowhere strewn with all kinds of obstacles, instead of trying to find your own, obstacle free pathway.  Because God sees it all.  He knows the best way forward.

 

Blessings,