There But For the Grace of God

 Good afternoon.  The heat just continues to build.  Sort of like summer is marshalling all of it’s forces to hand us a sort of last gasp of heat and humidity before the autumn breezes begin to blow and, hopefully, the autumn rains will come.  This time of year is an interesting time as far as weather is concerned.  Yes, the heat and humidity seem to go on and on without end.  Yes, it seems to be miserable outside.

But there are real changes taking place in the environment…changes that are happening because summer is actually winding down.  The tall grass in the park is shooting up seed pods.  Birds are finishing up raising their young.  Many plants are coming to maturity.  The summer grasses, Bermuda, buffalo, and others, are thoroughly enjoying outdoing the fescues.  The toad that sits under your porch light at night is getting fatter.  Even the constellations in the sky are changing to their fall displays.  It’s a great time to lose your summer doldrums and watch the creation as it morphs into a fall and then winter pose.

As part of this time of year…the extreme heat, I normally try to get my walking exercise in during the morning hours.  It was until a couple years ago that I could stop at Towne West shopping center and walk in comfort.  But that building has been sold and turned into basically warehouse space.  It’s no longer available to the public.

Sometimes, I can walk while still at home.  Other times, I’ll come to work, then walk downtown.  That was the case today.  I came in to work, then went for my walk.  As I was walking past the Garvey Center on West Douglas, I noticed a wallet on the sidewalk.  I thought about leaving it, but decided it was in good hands with me…I didn’t know who else might come by and see it.

I took it back to the church and looked through it.  Finding a drivers license, I tried to find the gentleman on social media.  I was unsuccessful at that, but I did have an address.  I decided to go there to see if he might be home.

Arriving there, I found a locked front gate, a rather dilapidated house, and a neighbor sitting on her front porch.  I went over to the neighbor and asked if she knew the man who lived next door.  She didn’t know much about him.  I told her why I was there and gave her contact information for the church, telling her that his wallet would be at the church if he wished to recover it.  She said she would tell him, and that was it.

I have never found anything like that in any of my walks before.  I have found maybe a coin or perhaps a nail in the street...something like that.  I'll usually pick those things up if I can.  But I’ve never found anything of real value such as that wallet.  Hopefully, he’ll get the note I left with the neighbor lady and retrieve his wallet.  If he doesn’t, I’ll take it to the nearby police station and leave it with them.

One other thing this hot time of the year does is bring out into more of the open those who have not been able to keep up their bill payments and their electric utility service has been suspended.  We’ve received several calls this summer from folks in that circumstance, and many more where the service is in danger of being discontinued because of non-payment.  We’ve had so much of that earlier this summer that we’ve had to discontinue our benevolence for a time.

Today, I received a call from a woman who, if she is telling me accurately, has been living without electric service since the end of March when the cold weather rule was discontinued.  They managed to find a generator to meet their basic needs, but now the generator is broken and they are totally without service.  There are two older people in the home…both of whom require medical services that need electricity.

I didn’t even ask how much they owed.  It doesn’t really matter.  If they owe, for example, one thousand dollars to get service started, that amount may well look like one hundred thousand dollars to them.  The mountain is insurmountable regardless.

My guess is it will be a long time before they are able to get electric service again, if ever.  I wonder how many households in the Wichita area are just like these people…service has been discontinued due to inability to pay, or who are in danger of having service discontinued.  What is the percentage of households who are living like this?  I’m thinking that number would be much higher than one might think.

If you are living with a roof over your head, with transportation, and in relative comfort, be thankful.  Just be thankful.  And be humble.  Then find some way to help support those who are not living with your level of comfort and convenience.  You know the old saying, “There but for the grace of God go I…”

 

Blessings

The Vote

 Well, good afternoon.  The primary elections are over, at least until next time.  I hope you voted, if you were eligible to do so.  I don’t know who you may have voted for, and besides, it’s none of my business.  The ballot is one of the most cherished parts of living in this society, and frankly is one of the last places where one’s private business truly is private.

It seems that we’re being tracked, traced, and pumped for information pretty much with everything we do and everywhere we go.  If you have a rewards card with any business, they are tracking your purchases.  If you have a smart TV, cable TV or streaming, you are being tracked in what you are viewing.  Your car, if it’s a newer model, can and does track your maintenance and other aspects of ownership and driving.  If one of your appliances connects to the Internet, your use of that appliance is being tracked.  And, of course, wherever you click on social media or whatever you search for is being tracked and traced.  It’s pretty much ubiquitous.

But voting...the ballot...we know if you voted.  We know where you voted.  We know which political party’s ballot you voted on if the election is a primary.  But we don’t know HOW you voted…who you voted for…how you voted on bond issues and other questions.  That information forever stays with you unless you choose to divulge it.  And that’s an increasing rarity these days…the privilege of privacy.

We’ll have another election in November.  This time, there will be only one ballot because it is not a partisan primary election, but rather a general election.  Your vote will continue to be a matter of privacy.  Yes, we will know whether or not you voted, but we will not know HOW you voted on this or that race or this or that issue.  Be informed.  Don’t pay much attention to the mailers, the TV ads, or the social media posts.  Get your information from trusted sources.  Do your own research.

You should know by now that if you’re a citizen, you have an obligation to participate in elections.  Not an obligation that comes from some law or edict.  But rather an obligation out of thanksgiving for being able to live in such a society.  Yes, even with all of our faults, prejudices, and issues, we manage to make it work.  But it takes us all to participate as best we can…to give back rather than continuing to just be on the receiving end.

OK, I’ll quit preaching here and go on.

I was visiting with one of our deacons who works with building and grounds.  We had just looked at a water leak and plumbing issue.  This has come in addition to several other items that need to be repaired or replaced in and around the building.  I said something about a 50 plus year old building needing more attention, just like when we get older, we have a larger stable of medical people…many of them specialists in some area.  We do that because generally, more can go wrong with an older body than a younger one.  As the body ages, it begins to have to cope with stiff joints, unstable blood pressure, diminishing eyesight, and other maladies that often accompany aging.  It’s just a fact of life for people as it also is for things…buildings, automobiles, and the like.

Of course, there comes a time when the body can no longer cope…can no longer make the adjustments it needs to keep going, and it expires…it dies.  Eventually, it’s the same with a building.  Oh, it may be put on the historic preservation list and be around 200 , 300, 500  or more years from now.  But eventually, eventually, it will succumb to the inevitable.  The question for buildings always seems to be, is it worth it to make the repair, or do we just replace?  The question for bodies may look similar, but the thought process is much different, because we’re also looking at the mind and soul of the individual as well as the physical body that houses that soul.  We believe every person has inherent value and worth, unlike a building or automobile.  And we need to take that into consideration as we make sometimes very difficult or painful decisions.

Meanwhile, we employ people in various vocations and specialties to help us navigate through those times when something goes awry in body or mind.  And often, they can help.  They can many times enable the body to better cope with the problem.  In some cases, they can either fix the problem or at least put that problem or issue on the back burner, which allows a better quality of life and living for awhile.

It is my hope and prayer that you are living your life as fully and completely as possible, given your circumstance and situation.  May God continue to embrace and bless you.

 

Blessings,

 

God Provides

 Good morning!

 Tomorrow, I have a dental appointment.  I had been to the dentist a few days ago for a routine cleaning and checkup.  Of course, they found something in the checkup.  I have a tooth that has decay under it’s crown.  That means they’ll have to remove the crown and take a better look at it to determine treatment.

Treatment could consist of removing the decay and replacing the crown, a root canal, or possibly extraction and implant.  Of course, I’m hoping for the most conservative of these…the removal and replacement of the crown without the root canal or the extraction.  I don’t know yet what he will decide to do.

Most people don’t like to see the dentist.  I get it.  I have I don’t know how many root canals and crowns.  I also have two implants.

I’ve been seeing the dentist ever since I was about 9 years old.  Back then we had an older gentleman in town who did dentistry.  We didn’t have much money and dental insurance wasn’t a thing.  So I only saw him when absolutely necessary.

I won’t tell the entire story, but one of my front teeth got broken back then.  We went to this dentist to try to get something that would work for me.  He evidently didn’t do the porcelain-infused metal crowns, so tried to put a giant filling on it.  Of course, it wasn’t at all permanent, and I had to regularly go back to have it re-glued.

Each time he did that, he’d grind on my tooth without anesthetic, telling me it didn’t hurt.  But it did.  I’d about come out of the chair.  Finally at age 12 I was taken to a dentist out of town who did modern crowns, and he fixed me up with one that worked, and used anesthetic as well.  I had that one replaced 12 years later with one I still have.  That one is over 50 years old.

So, I get my distaste for dentistry honestly.

Of course, dentists now use all manner of aids to lessen the stress and discomfort.  However, I still get that turning in my stomach whenever the time for the appointment approaches.  And during the procedure, often there are sounds of grinding or other noises that, although they don’t bring discomfort, still they tend to create images of what may be going on inside my mouth.

So there’s that tomorrow.  Hopefully, something will go right and I’ll be able to be back in business in a very short time.  However, if extraction is called for, I can do that too.  I’ll ask for a referral to the oral surgeon who did the other two extractions a couple of years ago.  He’ll also be the one to set up the implant.  He did a great job.  Very little discomfort.  Very little complication.

But in the event I’m laid up for the day, I’m doing this Thursday Thought on Wednesday and am making it public right away.  So at least you’ll know.

In other news, we’ve had to curtail our non-member benevolence recently due to funding.  In June and earlier this month, need was greater than we’ve ever seen before.  Utility bills were the primary driver of the need.

We do our best to “tithe” or set aside ten percent of our donations for non-member benevolence.  We far exceeded that by the first week in July in this budget year, so we’ve had to not only cut back, but just eliminate that service for a time until the budget catches up with the actual expenses.

I don’t like to have to do this.  I realize the need.  I get the fact that there are many homes in Wichita who have no electric service or water service because of non-payment.  And I get that it’s hot out there…that many times there are children living in the house, or perhaps an elderly person or someone with medical equipment of some kind.

I go back to my friend Jennifer White when I think of this.  “We can’t do everything,” she says, “But we can do something.”  We can’t fix all the ills of the world, or even the ills of those who come to our door or call our phone number at the church.  But we can do something.  We can do what we can do…we can use what God gives us.  I believe we are doing that to the best of our ability right now.

We’ve not stopped all benevolence.  We have members of the church who are in need who we are helping right now.  The needs of our members are not subject to the suspension.  We’re doing what we can right now with what we have.  And prayer is a very necessary part of this.  We pray for wisdom.  We pray for circumstance and situation.  We pray for guidance.  And God provides.

 Thanks for listening.

Blessings.

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.