A Troubling Account

I was reading an account of the hanging of Saddam Hussein today from the local newspaper. In the article, it was said that one of the three executioners told Saddam just before he was hanged, “God damn you.” Saddam reportedly looked at the hooded man and said, “God damn you,” back to him.
I don’t know if I’ll come to any kind of conclusion in this blog about this exchange. I just have kind of a rambling of thoughts that will probably come out in some kind of jumbled fashion.
For one who within the next five minutes would find out with certainty if there is life beyond the grave, and if so whether or not Jehovah God is indeed God of the universe, and if so, whether or not Jesus is indeed the Christ and Messiah, this exchange is indeed troubling to me.
If there is no life beyond the grave, no Jehovah, no Jesus Christ the Eternal Son, then Saddam had nothing to worry about and his executioner and he both said something that had no meaning.
If, however, there IS life beyond the grave, and if there IS a god named Jehovah, then both executioner and the executed have said something that may have profound and lasting effects upon each of them. I shudder to think of entering into the presence of Jehovah having just condemned a man to damnation. I also shudder to think of entering into the presence of Jehovah having just been condemned in such a manner.

Just Stuff

We're here at theCentral Kansas in-laws this afternoon. We had a pleasant drive up here and many of the relations were here for hamburgers, potato salad, beans, deviled eggs, angel food cake, etc. A pretty good spread, huh.
The family is growing...in numbers, that is. We continue to add a grandchild here, a great grand-child there, an in-law over there. It's good to see families grow and expand, but it becomes somewhat difficult to keep track of them all, especially if they're only seen once or so a year.
We had friends stop in Wichita earlier today and toured the home, then bought us lunch. We were happy to see them and hope that we'll have more time with them sometime soon.
I told them that my wife and I were "acutely aware" of the thoughts and prayers given on our behalf as we tend to our work at the children's home. I told them that I didn't know how we knew that...we just knew it somehow. We take great comfort in knowing that people are praying for us and we hope that our prayers for them and for others "avail much" as the Good Book says.'
Another 30 hours or so and it will be the new year. I'm not sure what that means, but this may be the last post for 2006. I dunno. Anyway, thanks for seeing us through this year and we look forward to what comes ahead, knowing that the Creator Himself is guiding and directing our steps.

Good News

Today I heard from the grandmother of one of the girls who had gone home for the holidays. She’s still home and I called wanting to know if the new arrival (Mom was expecting a baby) had come yet.
Yes, the baby came on the 24th and everything was fine, except Grandma had broken her leg and wasn’t able to care for the family as she intended to do. She had to keep her leg elevated except for a few minutes at a time.
Grandma was also very gushing in her praise of Mary (not her real name) and how she has pitched in and helped during this time of stress, holiday, and change. She wants to keep her as long as possible in order to help out as much as possible around the house.
We were pleased to hear that. Sometimes it seems like we don’t see many changes in the lives of the girls we keep here, and it takes something like this to bring us back to reality and the notion that God is using us to work His will here.
The days plod on and the troubles and problems just keep coming. We continue to work with them, God working within us to demonstrate just a little of His love and care for His creation. With this kind of report, we have the strength and energy to plod on until some day there will be no more plodding…no more need for what we do. Even so come quickly, Lord Jesus.

The 58th Christmas

Today is Christmas Eve, 2006. Tomorrow will mark the 58th Christmas that I’ve witnessed (although I must say that I certainly can’t remember them all). A lot has changed since the 1949 Christmas in my hometown. Of course I don’t recall it since I was only two months old. I would imagine, however, that my older brothers had a good time, got some presents, and we probably went to some relatives for Christmas dinner.
Our son and his family were here for a couple of days. Our granddaughter is cute as ever (of course they are!!) and we are grateful for that family and pleased that our daughter in law chose to be part of our family (and we theirs). We had my brother and sister over last night for cards and games. We opened gifts this evening as well.
We will host my brother and sis tomorrow for lunch (ham, scalloped potatoes, green bean casserole, etc) and an afternoon of visiting and good times. Then clean up and a couple of days with one or two of the girls before our time is ended and we get a week off.
All in all, a traditional, ordinary holiday for us. But there’s something special about the traditional and ordinary that makes it anything but that. We cherish and relish these times, possibly because they tend to jolt us back, after dealing daily with a crazy and wild world, to what is truly important in our lives…family, relationships, love, and acceptance.
I’m not a doom and gloom prophet. There is good in this world, and I know that our Creator said it was good when He finished His work. But this is also a fallen creation groaning and longing for release from bondage. We need this jolt…this shot…this time of tradition and custom…to bring us some sanity, sense, and purpose as we go into yet another new year seemingly filled with disarray, confusion, insanity, grief, and hate.
And as we in Christendom ponder the miracle of the life and purpose of a baby born in a barn some two thousand years ago in the Bethlehem area of what is now the West Bank, we recall the promise of perfect peace and long for its hastening.

Getting Along

Well, it’s Saturday. It’s the eve of Christmas Eve. All of our girls have gone home for at least the weekend and we’re here with our son and his family from Northeastern Kansas. They’ll be here a day or two, then will go to see the other side of their family out in Western Kansas.
The weather is crisp, but clear. Amy Grant is playing on the DVD (her Tennessee Christmas album…her best) and we’re waiting on friends from the Kansas City area to stop by for awhile to see the campus and go to lunch.
We had “Bean and Bean” at my brother’s place last evening. That’s a tradition where they have some kind of beans as a main dish for a meal, then watch several of the “Mr. Bean” videos, including “Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean”. If you don’t know about Mr. Bean, I won’t clutter my blog with an explanation; just Google him or go to the Wikipedia site http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Bean .
We’ll host the family on Monday. We’ll have ham, scalloped potatoes, and the trimmings. It’ll be another time of great fun and contentment. Our family is blessed to not have the squabbles, fights, and tensions that sometimes can invade. Some reasons for that?

Our parents and relatives were good examples.
We don’t use alcohol
We were taught as youngsters to get along (or else).
We don’t use alcohol.
We have similar values.
We love each other.
We respect each other’s opinions.
We don’t use alcohol.
We accept each other for who and what they are.

We’re having fun this time of year. What better thing to do than to spend time with a brand new granddaughter and family. I hope, trust, and pray that your holiday goes well.

The Gap

I don’t know if I do my best thinking this time of day or not (6:05am), but I certainly feel more creativity and willingness to sit down at the keyboard right now to have a say at something. I guess there may be something to that old adage, “Early to bed and early to rise, etc. etc.”
I’ve been asked to teach a Joshua survey to the 30’s class at church beginning in January. This might be quite an experience for them as well as for me. First, I don’t know many of the 30’s folks at the church. Second, I haven’t taught Joshua in a long while. And third, there is becoming an obvious gender gap between me and those a generation or so younger than I am.
Do you notice it too? Those of you who are, say, 40 or older…do you notice the gap widening? Language, dress, deportment (look that one up in your Funk & Wagnalls), and culture all seem to be part of this ever-widening gap between “us” and “them”. And that can be a little intimidating at times for both sides.
As one who remembers the “Big John and Sparky” radio show on Saturday mornings on the old Zenith (which I still have) and the advent of television into our neighborhood…one who has seen parts of seven decades and remembers when the polio vaccine first came out, it’s work now to relate at all to those who don’t know life without the computer, vacuum tubes, or the TV remote.
This should be an interesting time for all of us.

Twinges and Tingles

It’s Monday morning. A week before Christmas Day. The weekend went well, but all the time, I had a kind of an uneasy feeling. I’m not sure what it was, and even now have a feeling that something just isn’t quite the way it should be. But there’s nothing concrete I can pin down and there’s nothing even floating “out there” that I can see. So I guess I’ll have to chalk this one up to parental intuition that needs to be sent to the shop for a re-calibration.
Those of you who are parents know what I’m talking about. Your parental antennae begin to twinge just a bit, and if it continues, there’s kind of a tingle that’s just always there, keeping you on the alert. As you continue down the parenting path, you learn to hone the skills of listening to and interpreting the signs and signals. When they say that Mom has eyes in the back of her head, they are more right than not.
The work we do is similar to that of parents in everyday life. The problem here is that we invite girls into our home that are already confused and on the wrong path, and we have very little time to adjust our antennae to their signals. They need help now, and we don’t have the luxury of taking our time to get to know them or having them in our home for several years while we learn all about them.
We also have more than one or two. We’re expecting a sixth right after Christmas Day this year and have room for yet a seventh. So I guess I can understand how occasionally the trouble receptors need to be cleaned and fine-tuned.
And you stay tuned as well. There may yet come something that vindicates the tingling going on even as I write this at 6am and all the girls are yet in bed (with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads). I wonder if any of them has a clue what a sugar plum is.

Home for Christmas

I was walking the compound last night as I usually do, checking doors and making sure things were OK when my mind wandered to a part of the old song “Home for Christmas”…the part that says, “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.” I didn’t get very far with that when I stopped in my tracks and thought about why I might be singing that part and what thoughts were coming into my head because I was singing it.
My thoughts didn’t go back to my childhood. Yes, we had Christmas when I was small, and we had the tree, lights, gifts, and all of that. Rather, my thoughts went to times when we had our own kids at home; when the gifts were transformers, baseball gloves, and toy products for boys out of the 1980’s.
Then I thought about where “home” actually was this year. If I would be “home” for Christmas this year, where is that? Is it here in Wichita? Is it where we lived with our young family for 16 years as they grew up? Topeka? Western Kansas? Central Kansas?
My mind would have none of those places. Home, it turns out, was the place that Jesus told about when He said, “I go and prepare a place for you.” Home was someplace I’ve never been before, but have a taste of what it is like right here and now. They say home is where the heart is. I wonder if that can be true more than anyone can know.

Unprofitable Servants

Last night we went to Wednesday services. On the way into the building, I had two people stop me in the hall and thank me for my remarks the previous Sunday. I was asked to have a meditation or remarks ready to present at the communion service, which we do every Sunday in our church. I was surprised that they stopped me and told me of their appreciation. However, I was also surprised that several last Sunday stopped following services and told me the same thing.
I am no stranger to public speaking. It is something I actually enjoy. It was, however, my first attempt at it at this church, and that could be partly the reason why some visited with me. However, one of the elders (church leaders) stopped me Wednesday for the second time and explained why he was so grateful.
My meditation centered on Mary and her willingness to be God’s servant. She said (and I paraphrase here) “I am the Lord’s servant. Be it unto me according to your will.” I talked about how I was reluctant to do this meditation because I had grown complacent and lazy and was willing to let others do all the work in the church for me. I then said that I thought the better of that attitude, and that if Mary could do what she did, and if Jesus could do what He did in offering Himself as a propitiation (look it up, folks) in my place, surely I could do this little thing.
The elder said that there are many people in the church who have the same attitude as I. They are content to allow someone else to do all of the work. They take but don’t give. He said my remarks really hit home and he appreciated my effort and candor.
How selfish we have become, thinking that we somehow deserve special attention because we do this or that, or because we deal with this or that, or whatever. How selfish we are thinking that others can just wait on us…that we’ve put in our time and deserve to rest and relax while the rest of the world waits on us. How selfish of us to believe somehow that we’re special and that we deserve some kind of special treatment. We are, after all (and I paraphrase again) “just unprofitable servants doing what is required of us.”

Candles

It’s nice to get feedback on what’s written here. I appreciate it when you click on my email address to tell me what you thought of the words I put together.
I’m continuing a little from the last entry where I said that God calls each of us into service in some way. We may not have a high profile job or a name that is known the world over. We may not be endowed with the gifts of wealth or even health. But we all were put here for, perhaps, “such a time as this.”
One reason that I appreciate your comments is that it brings perspective into my service to the Master. You see, when you comment, I am reminded of the service you perform and of your lot in life. I realize yet again that I am not alone.
It’s good for me to remind myself that others, just as I, struggle to pay bills, deal with kids, learn a new job, cope with sometimes frail health, refresh a relationship, tackle employee/employer issues, and a host of other stressors that appear in the lives of every one of us from time to time.
In a real way, we’re all in this together, being lights and salt and leaven in a place that desperately needs what God has to offer by means of our poor, weak efforts. It’s nice to be able to look over to the next hill (whether that hill be Oakley, Kansas City, South Carolina, Nigeria, Michigan, Topeka, or wherever) and see another candle burning there in the darkness, lighting up a small portion of the place we call “this life”.
Don’t let your candle go out.

Morning Routine

It’s been a few days, I know. It’s a little after 6am on a Monday morning and I’ve just completed most of the routine things we do on a school day. Medications are in the cups waiting for the girls, I’ve cleaned up the few dishes left from last night, and the coffee is on. I’ve brought a new box of cereal up from the basement pantry and have juice, cereal, and granola bars out for breakfast. One of the girls (I don’t know which one…I haven’t looked yet) just came out to eat.
I haven’t been outside yet to pick up the Eagle. But I have my coffee in place on the desk right beside the monitor. Pat is stirring, and will be out soon to interact with the girls a little more than I normally would this time of day.
God calls each of us to service. He expects us to use the talents and abilities that are within us to His glory. He will be glorified for the sake of His Name. I don’t know what God has in mind for Pat and me. All I know is that somehow we ended up here, in Wichita, at this place. We are not high-profile ministers in a large church down south. We are not well known business people or politicians. We certainly aren’t entertainers whose names are household words.
But I believe we are serving and are glorifying the Name of God by being here in this place, dispensing medications, opening cereal boxes, and interacting with teenage girls. As a paraphrase of Esther 4:14 might read, “Who knows but that you’ve been placed on this earth and in this place for such a time as this.”

I'm Ready

My wife has gone to be with her family for a few days while they deal with her Dad’s recent illness. She’s been gone overnight and for several days, now. When she’s gone, there are some things that are good and some things that are not so good about the situation.
I don’t sleep as well when she’s not here at night. I don’t know. For some reason, it just isn’t the same. I never thought that it would come to this, but after 32 plus years, one just gets used to having someone else in the bed with them.
The house is quieter. My wife is not a loud person. More often than not, she’s in her chair doing some kind of needle work or reading. But for some reason, there’s a quietness about the house that isn’t here when someone else is here, even though that person isn’t making any noticeable sounds.
On the more positive side, I do some things sometimes that I wouldn’t do when she’s here. I usually eat only two meals a day. That seems to be more normal for me. And I tend to eat things I wouldn’t eat if she was here. I eat more fish, more cereal, and will sometimes fix things that I know she doesn’t like (salmon cakes).
I don’t have to tell anyone where I’m going. I can just get into the pickup and go. And I don’t have to be back at a certain time knowing that someone will worry if I’m not back on time. I can take off on a side trip or do something else without checking in.
I can also do things like eat lunch at the counter of the café down the street, like I did today. The Riverside Café in Wichita is an old place that has a juke box, juke box controllers in the booths, a counter, and a menu that is written on a white board along with the daily lunch specials. I thoroughly enjoyed sauntering up to the counter this morning, ordering chicken strips with hash browns and green beans.
Does the positive outweigh the negative? Hardly. I’m ready for her to come back home.

Tough Decisions

It’s been a slow weekend for me, but for my wife, it’s been anything but that. Her dad had a mild stroke toward the end of last week, and she’s been going up into central Kansas where they live to help out with that. She went there again this morning and intends to spend a couple of days there this time.
He will be getting out of the hospital in a day or so, if everything goes well, and will need at least some temporary home care. He’s an independent sort of a man, wounded veteran of Iwo Jima, and won’t want anyone around to help. And he has his right mind and will be making the final decisions regardless of what his girls want for him.
The boys are here as well, and may be able to visit with him about having someone in to stay, but even that conversation, I suspect, will be a rather delicate time for them. Hopefully they can reach a compromise that all are happy with and will still provide the services that he will need these next several days and weeks.
It’s always tough when our loved ones grow older and begin to need care. My father in law is in his upper 80’s and has lived on his own for about 10 years since his wife died. He’s done well. His home is well-kept and he cares for himself, does his laundry, fixes his meals, etc. So this will be a change for him. We’ll see how this goes.

Humility

I don’t know what you think of Amy Grant. Some of you like her music and her songs. Others of you don’t care for that kind of music. And some of you may be upset yet (it’s time to get over it, folks) at her cross over into popular music or her divorce from Gary Chapman and remarriage to Vince Gill. (Just remember, you have sinned, too. Your sins are every bit as bad and will keep you out of a covenant relationship with God just as much as you believe Ms. Grant’s sins will do to her. And God is willing to forgive you just as much as you are willing to forgive others their trespasses.)
Regardless of what you may think, Ms. Grant has not only survived, but has flourished in the past 25 years in the music industry. Many who know her attribute her longevity and success to her modesty and humility, attributes that seem to be missing from many who share the success that she has enjoyed.
When she was inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame, she said this about one of her backup singers, “Johnna McElroy really took my five loaves and two fish of a voice and helped me to as much as I could with it.”
That one statement tells volumes about the person Ms. Grant truly is. She’s the genuine article. She’s the real thing. Like her or not, she has her feet firmly on the ground, it seems, and understands that she’s just someone who was incredibly, incredibly blessed n life.

Not Normal

Today it turned cold. Not just cool, but downright cold. The temperatures went from 70 degrees yesterday to about freezing today. And we have something we don’t often experience in November…thunder. A storm is coming through as I write this, and it’s dropping hail/sleet pellets with wind, thunder, and lightning.
Sometimes we have an experience in life that isn’t a normal or routine thing. It could be a thunder-sleet in November, or it could be the sudden realization that someone else doesn’t think just like you do. It could be your having to cope with a death, injury, or other physical problem. Or it could be the nightmare of mental illness suffered either by you or by a loved one.
Whatever life hands you, know that you are loved and cared for in a very, very special way by the Eternal One who brought all of this together and gave you life. No, He’ll not take away all the pain and hurt, because that would be contrary to His justice. However, he will give you peace and strength to cope with, deal with, and handle the situation at hand, no matter what it is.
And that, dear friend, is worth pondering today.

Ready

“Strength for today, and bright hope for tomorrow.” Those of you who know the lyrics of old Christian hymns will recognize that line as one from the hymn “Great Is Thy Faithfulness”, written by Thomas O. Chisholm in 1923.
I’ve been struggling with that line today. We sang the song this morning in worship, and I went through the lines several times later today. The last time was when I was taking my nightly walk around the compound circle drive. I happened to stick on the words I’ve printed above.
Strength for today. It’s the mature Christian who understands that God gives to each the strength to get through the day, no matter the circumstance. It’s the quiet assurance we have that nothing we face is so bad and so overpowering that we cannot make it through the day.
Bright hope for tomorrow. This has, I think, a double meaning. There’s the tomorrow that is the day after this day; then there’s the tomorrow that Christians sometimes think of as the time after death. For the Christian, both of those times should also carry with them the quiet assurance that God will be there and will continue to be faithful.
Strength for today, and bright hope for tomorrow. I’m now looking forward to another day.

One More Night

Sometimes it seems like nothing you do ever really accomplishes anything. You go to your job, for example, day after day, and things just always end up the same. Progress in anything is very elusive and it seems like you’re just spinning your wheels. You become somewhat disillusioned and wonder what the value is of even trying any more.
Then something off the wall happens. Someone says something, or something happens that shows real progress toward the goal. Then it all seems worthwhile again.
Such was the case yesterday. We’ve been here about four months now, and it seems many days like the day to day rituals are just that. We get up, get the girls off to school, pick them up, feed them, etc. Nothing seems to change much from day to day.
Yesterday, however, one of the parents who was keeping one of the girls overnight called and wanted to know if the daughter could stay over one more night than planned. They explained that the daughter was behaving very well and had been very pleasant and appropriate and they wanted to keep her another night.
That doesn’t sound like much unless you knew this girl when she first came here to the home. If you knew that, you’d appreciate the quantum leap this girl has made in the few months she’s been here
It was a real sense of accomplishment to know that we had a small part in the changes for the better that have come into this young woman’s life. Oh, there will be times coming up when it will again seem like nothing is being accomplished and there’s no purpose to what we all do here. But as we continue down the road and witness even more of these kinds of incidents, they will continue to give us renewed strength to go on.

Happy Thanksgiving

Well, they’ve come and they’ve gone. My sister and her family were here for the day today. And, oh what a day it was. We enjoyed each other’s company and caught up on the latest happenings. And we ate, of course.
We have a sort-of tradition that whenever we can, we serve a crown roast. We did that today and it was delicious. We also had ham, spuds, veggies, rolls, salads, etc. enough that we weren’t very hungry when evening came.
We enjoyed playing cards, watching a video or two, and just visiting. Many caught some zzzz’s either on the floor or one of the couches, and then we went for a walk outside after dark.
Nothing was spectacular today, but it doesn’t have to be. The small things, appropriately recognized, are just as important and exciting as the big stuff. And the small things ruled the day today, even down to asking someone not related to us and at least temporarily not having a home, to eat and be with us.
Thanksgiving is a holiday the retailers overlook…perhaps on purpose…perhaps because of the looming Christmas holiday. I don’t know, but I do know that I enjoy the day, the lack of commercialism, and the peace the day brings.
Happy Thanksgiving.

What a Day

“Twas the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the house,”…no, that’s the wrong poem and the wrong time of year. Actually, in our house today, most of the girls (all but one) will be leaving for the weekend. The one who is left will be going tomorrow on day passes each day Thursday through Sunday. She will come back in the evenings to spend the night here.
We are looking forward to having Sis and her tribe here tomorrow, and enjoying their company as we serve crown roast, cranberry salad, and the other things we have developed as tradition over the years. Conversation and catching up are always nice, too. Even though we live in the same community now, we don’t see each other often enough to keep up as we should.
Everyone, it seems, has their “busy-ness”. Jobs, families, volunteer work all consume enormous amounts of time and energy. We run the treadmill of life much faster than we did even 10 to 15 years ago. Cellular technology has kept us connected, informed, and running. Future technology will cause even greater upheaval in our lives as we struggle to keep up and to adapt.
One of these days, it will all be over. Whether our economy and society collapses, or whether we die before that time, we will one day no longer have to worry about annoying ring tones, persistent spam, or unwanted websites.
As the old hymn says, “What a day, glorious day that will be!”

It's That Time of Year

I haven’t written in a few days. Really, there hasn’t been much to write about. It’s sometimes tough to sit down after several days of mundane and routine and write, but the exercise is worthwhile, if for no other reason than the mental exercise that’s involved in looking over the past few days and thinking of something that can be worded concisely, yet is interesting to the readers.
Such is the dilemma today as I think over the past few days, which have been dominated by a rather nasty cold virus in our home. I picked it up a few days ago and have not felt well since. One advantage of getting older is that colds usually are fewer in number and less severe, probably due to immune systems that have once in the past seen the same virus and have developed effective antibodies to that virus. However, this cold must be some kind of new virus or mutation, because the full-blown cold is upon me.
I thought yesterday as I was wheezing that I can surely see why more frail folks have difficulty even surviving a respiratory illness. It takes a certain amount of stamina and body reserve to fight and win the battle with a rhinovirus, and some people just don’t have it anymore. Many of those folks are older people, but some are the very young. And those groups are just the ones we are concerned with during cold and flu season.
That is also a good reason for a reasonably healthy person to maintain a certain level of fitness. One doesn’t have to be a marathon runner to better be able to fight off viruses and illnesses. It does help, though, if there’s a certain lung capacity and reserve of energy.
Colds last about 7 days if treated and about a week if left untreated. I think I’ll choose the seven day variety and take some Tylenol now.

The Good Times

I don’t know about you, but this weekend was just pretty good for us.  Jim and Judy were here from Western Kansas Friday evening for a short visit.  We had a great time at church this morning, and the small group meeting at our place this evening was productive as well as fun fellowship.  The weather cooperated, and the girls did well this long weekend (they didn’t have school Friday).
When things go well, we often don’t stop and thank God for that.  Maybe some of us don’t think God had much to do with it and it was just coincidence or what we expected.  I’ve come to think, however, that God maybe has more to do with things like this than we know, and although I know that trials must come along with the good, when that good comes, I know where it comes from.
This week, even if the good happens for just an hour or two, thank God for it and for that time when things went well and you were at your peak.  Then when the inevitable trials come your way, thank Him too for those; for it’s only because one wades through trials in life that one can truly appreciate the good times when they come.

So, Why?

Today was a wonderful day. It was the last full day off of a week off that we get every fourth week. We’ve had a good week. We’ve seen the relatives and our sons. We made a trip to Western Kansas to visit friends. We’ve been able to see our darling granddaughter today on a day trip to their home. The Republicans are at least saying that they are listening to the electorate.
So why do I feel like I want to sit in a dark room and just let time pass? Why do I not feel like smiling, crying, laughing, or groaning? Why do I not feel much of anything at all?
I don’t in truth know. I don’t think it has to do with the week off being over. I am (or at least was) looking forward to getting the girls back tomorrow. It doesn’t have to do with relationships with the wife or someone else. Those are as good now as they’ve ever been.
I have to wonder if the idea of advancing age has anything to do with it and this is a delayed reaction to a recent birthday. I’ve thought a lot about that recently. I’ve certainly got a lot more years behind me than I do ahead of me.
This is kind of a funky time for me right now until I get this thing sorted out. Anyone of you (two or three faithful readers) ever get this way? What do you think it is?

Time Off

We have some time off from work, so this past weekend, we went to Western Kansas. We went out to the little community where we used to live (until a couple of years ago) and spent the night with some friends. We then went to church where I gave the sermon and talked some of our work here at the children’s home.
Coming back to Wichita is a long drive from there. It’s over four hours by interstate highway, and that’s if one doesn’t stop more than once or twice briefly to empty a bladder or fill a tank.
The hills west of Salina were in rare form yesterday as we headed East while the sun was behind us, lowering in the West. As we went down into the Elkhorn Creek valley, the hills on the other side were subdued, yet obvious hues of crimson, tan, gold, maroon, and olive. The low sunlight created shadows where shadows don’t normally fall, and the whole scene seemed to jump out of a surreal landscape painting.
It only lasted for a brief moment, though, as we descended into the valley and the sun continued to set. Then it was gone…forever relegated to the neural synapses of just a few people who happened to notice the beauty.
I’m grateful I was one of those people. I thank God that He allowed me to see such a sight, even if for only a moment. It was a fitting ending to a great weekend with friends and extended family. Thanks, Larene and Kathy, for keeping us. Thanks also to Gary for the popcorn and conversation.
And thank you all for your hospitality and your love. We’ve made friends the last several years that will be with us for a lifetime. We covet your continued friendship and prayers, and long for the best for you and yours.

The New Generation

Our family has a “deep question” forum on the Internet. I don’t know the address, and it is available only via password in any event. I just click on the short cut and I’m there. We’ve done this awhile by email, but recently began posting questions for one-another’s perusal and replies on a forum-type web site.
Many of our questions are religious in nature. Some are not. We all try to post replies to the questions, and take turns asking questions. One question, for example, was that if Jesus knew 100% that he would raise from the dead and join the Father, was his death really a sacrifice. Others ponder homosexuality, specific scripture references, philosophical questions, etc.
I was heartened recently by information posted by one of my nieces. She posted a portion of another discussion board that was written by other teens in one of her advanced placement classes. The class hasn’t begun yet, but the kids are preparing for it by reading and discussion.
I was amazed at the depth of discussion, the literacy and writing ability of these young people, and their perceptions of the world around them, both material and spiritual. In fact, it sort of blew me away to know that there were young people out there who truly were interested in things beyond who was hooking up with whom, what some guy was wearing, or whether or not some rapper was going to get busted for drugs.
There is a whole new generation out there, folks, that is already knocking down old norms, establishing new norms, and making the world its place. Time goes on, and we all go with it, whether we want to do so or not. We can go into the future kicking and screaming, or we can go into it with wonder and excitement, experiencing the marvelous things God has provided in His creation. I prefer the latter.

Fall Colors

The fall colors are especially nice this year in Southern Kansas.  I haven’t seen trees and grass with colors such as what I find now for many years.  The hues of red, yellow-gold, brown, and green simply defy description.
They say (there I go with those pesky “they” people) that in order to achieve such a panoply of color and hue, the creation has to go through a stressful summer with a general lack of rainfall.  It helps if the fall weather comes in with warmer days and cooler nights than normal.  We also have had that this fall.
It also is beneficial if the right trees…the ones that normally produce more color…are a part of the landscape.  People in the Wichita area have been good, for the most part, in planting a variety of trees and other shrubs and bushes.  The variety is almost astounding.
This, I guess, is just like everything else worthwhile in life.  Good things don’t come easily.  Where the brilliant falls seem to require planning and appropriate planting on the part of people, summer drought, and cooler than normal temperatures, so the good things that are truly important in life seem also to require planning, foresight, and sweat.
Of all of those important things, I think our relationship with our Creator tops the list.  This, too, is something that requires work.  It requires diligence.  It requires patience.  It requires dedication.  It doesn’t just somehow happen with no effort on our part.
Most of all, though, it happens because God has already done His part.  He has already shown us the Way, the Truth, the Life, the Door.

Today

Today is Friday. It’s 6:20am. It’s cold and rainy outside, but from the radar, this may be the last rain we get in this particular storm. I understand this storm dumped snow in the Rockies and has brought down some cold, chilly air from the North to a large part of the country. It’s time. We need the change.
The girls are rousting out and are getting breakfast. That usually consists of cereal, either hot or cold, juice, and sometimes bagels and/or toast. They seem to like that about as well as anything. On Saturdays, we sometimes fix waffles or some such.
Several girls are in a state of decision-making right now. One has just enlisted in the Air Force on a delayed-entry plan and will go in a few days following her graduation in May. One has a grandmother who is terminal and must hold it together (decent behavior) through this process. Still another is deciding if she will continue to act out and thereby be removed from this place to go to a more secure environment. Yet another is trying to decide whether she has intrinsic value or not to both herself and others.
You get the picture. It’s always something here at the home. We have about a week to go before we get a week off, but we’re not counting the days any more. We’re doing fine, as I thought we would all along. Although there were times….
Thanks so much for your prayers and your concern. Our Creator is indeed overshadowing this place and yours.

I Have Enough

As I was taking the girls to school this morning, they were talking about watching one of the many reality shows that is now on television. They were saying that they really enjoyed the show because it showed the real world.
Now, I’m no connoisseur of these shows, and I thought to myself, “What, don’t you guys think you’re living in the real world right now?”
Reality television is far from the reality that most of us know. If someone were to do a reality series based on the lives of ordinary people, it would tank rather quickly, because that reality is one that is mostly mundane, routine, and ordinary. There’s not the drama and crisis that is shown on the so-called reality shows.
Yes, what those shows portray is, in many cases, reality for someone. There truly are car accidents, tense moments in the emergency room, stress-filled meetings, etc. I know…I’ve been there and done that. But in the ordinary course of events for most of us, reality consists of school, exercise, getting along with others, homework, earning money, raising kids, going to church, and keeping the house clean.
I may ask my girls if they think they are living in the real world, or if the real world is somehow beyond what they are experiencing right now. I might be surprised at their answers. We all think we are living the dull life and that everyone else has a much better existence than we do. That is, we think that until we jump the fence into the greener pastures of someone else’s life and discover that they too have weeds, rocks, and other things that make our routine existence seem rather inviting once again.
I don’t know about you, but I see enough reality every day. I see the effects of rape and neglect. I deal with mental and emotional issues that would try anyone’s soul. I know that there are girls “out there” that are hurting far beyond what anyone should have to bear, and that we just don’t have the resources to care for them. I don’t need to live someone else’s reality in order to fulfill my life. I have enough on my plate.

Connections

It’s been a few days since I last wrote.  I dunno.  It just seems like the days fly around here.  Then at night when things quiet down, I’m too tired to do much thinking, let alone writing.  So, that’s the way it is.
We’re thinking about going to Western Kansas on our next weekend off.  We used to live out there, and think that maybe seeing the folks at church on a Sunday next month might be a good thing.  Of course, we’d stop in Central Kansas on the way out there, in order to see the in-laws.  We’d then take our time going on out to God’s country.
In many ways, it is indeed God’s country.  Sparse, expansive, and exquisite, the Western Kansas prairie is truly one of the wonders of the world.  If you haven’t taken the time to become acquainted with the short-grass prairie and the people who live with it, you’ve truly missed something special.
Impossible to tame, the prairies of Western Kansas only allow humanity to scratch out an existence and a living in accordance with the laws of the prairie, not the laws of mankind.  When man understands that it is the prairie that is in control, he does rather well, living in a sort of symbiotic relationship with it.  When man forgets and thinks he’s the cheese, the prairie bites back, and does so in a way that makes for an indelible lesson in humility.
That kind of living also makes the people who are there a bit different than those who live in a more citified and artificial existence.  Folks there are more down to earth…pragmatic…normal, if you will.  Yes, they still have the normal human frailties…greedy…gossips…indulgent.  But they also have a way of thinking, living, and relating to others that is refreshing and soulful.
We cherish our Western Kansas connections, and hope we’ll be able to make the trip soon.

The Full Measure

Our minister pointed us to a verse, in closing his sermon yesterday, that I had never really seen before.  It’s found in Revelation (yeah, that book that no one can understand), chapter 21 and verse 7.  The New American Standard Bible renders it thus, “He who overcomes shall inherit these things, and I will be his God and he will be My son.”
Note especially the first part.  “He who overcomes shall inherit these things.”
Now, we could get into a discussion of what “these things” are, but I think if one looks at prior verses, he can get a good idea of what these things are.  My point is that it doesn’t say that all who overcome will share in an inheritance.  I think it is saying that each one who overcomes will inherit a full measure of “these things” and not have to share or divide an inheritance with anyone.
How can that be?  I don’t know the answer to that any more than I can know how God can be omnipresent or three persons in one.  Put this one in the “unknowable” bin and mark it as “wondrous” along with so many other grand things we find in God.
My kids aren’t going to get much of an inheritance from me.  And what they do get, they’ll have to share.  But it won’t be that way, I think, with God and me.  I’ll get the full measure of the inheritance, just as you’ll also get the full measure of the inheritance.  Think about that today.

Who Would Have Thought?

I was in the local Subway sandwich shoppe this evening buying sandwiches for the girls for movie night. On Fridays, we often rent a movie and have movie night at our house. I had orders for five sandwiches, and was telling the young man what to put on what sandwich, when someone standing in line behind me said, “Jay,” and I turned. There were several people in line and I wasn’t sure which one said it until she said it again.
It was someone from my hometown not far from here. She recognized my voice, she said, as I ordered sandwiches. I didn’t recognize her until she said who she was.
Turns out she was a teen playing softball years ago and recognized me because she caught and I umpired…calling balls and strikes right behind her.
Life sends everyone into some twists and turns from time to time. Who would have thought that such a meeting would ever take place in a sandwich shop? Moreover, who would have thought that she’s living not far from us? I have to wonder just how many people I know are living within 5 miles of me? 10 miles of me? 20 miles?
I’d like to see a map of this area with the pins stuck in it wherever someone lives that I know or have known over the years. I think I’d be surprised, and I’d like to think that I’d remember them all with memories that are pleasant.
But that map will never happen, and I probably won’t ever know who is near me that I know. And maybe that’s for the better.

Do I Really Want to Know?

For a very few months a couple years ago, I taught at a vocational school in Lawrence.  I taught Microsoft Word and Microsoft Excel to older youth and young adults who were in the school’s program.
The classes I had were a very diverse population.  A couple of the classes had two women who were Muslim and who wore the full-length brown dress with a full head covering and a kind of crosshatch cloth covering their faces.
At first, they were somewhat difficult to get to know, as I am used to facial expression and observation of body language.  Both of these kinds of communication were virtually impossible with these women.
I soon learned, however, that voice inflection played a big part in how they communicated with the outside world.  I also listened closely to the actual words they said and the way they structured their sentences, although it was clear that English was a second language for them.
I learned to communicate with these women and pick up nuances from their speech and actions that told me things they had never actually said in words.  It was good for me to have these women in my classes, and I grew to like them and see them as more than anomalies or abnormalities that had to be dealt with somehow in the name of diversity and political correctness.
I wonder about Sadiqah and Abeer now.  I have not a clue where they are, what they are doing, or what their situation in life is like.  I think I would like to know, but then again….

Organization of the Heart

I went into the maintenance shop on campus today.  We no longer have a maintenance man, and those of us on campus are sharing responsibilities for that job.  I have been in the shop before to look for something specific, but this time, I just looked around to be certain that I had an idea of what we have there in case I need something.
I was pleasantly surprised at the good condition of the tools and the arrangement of the spare parts for electrical, plumbing, etc.  Someone has taken good care of that area.  So often, those areas are messy and unorganized.  Not so with this shop.
I had to think that the condition of that maintenance shop is in many ways similar to the conditions of our hearts…not our physical blood pumps, but the place of our being within us.  Sometimes, there’s nothing there but a big disorganized mess.  But when we allow God to come in, He cleans up and cleans out.  He organizes.  He directs.  He cleans.  And He keeps it that way as long as we allow Him to do so.
I hope we’re able to keep the maintenance shop some semblance of clean and organized.  It’s so much easier to work in one when all of the tools and spare parts are easily located, and the work area is clean and inviting.  I also hope I’m able to keep my heart clean and organized, as always, relying on my God to do all the real work in that area.

No More War

Today is the first day of a week off for Pat and me. The girls are with the relief houseparent, and we have the place to ourselves. We aren’t loafing, though, because we have a re-dedication of Harrold Cottage this coming Sunday and we’re sprucing up the place in preparation for the ceremony and open house that follows.
It is an awesome thing to be recognized in this capacity. I personally feel a bit bashful and very humbled. We certainly are not up to the task on our own, and recognize and realize that there is a Greater Hand in this than we know.
It will be fun to see some folks from Topeka who will make the trip down, and it will be good to see some of Pat’s relations as well. Our son and his family will be here, as will others from the Wichita area.
I think sometimes that is one reason why we are able to continue with this work. There are, as the Hebrew writer says in chapter 11, a “great cloud of witnesses” urging us on and giving us an example, that we should follow in it. That great cloud consists not only of those who are alive and well on the earth today, but folks from times long past and gone who have struggled, wrestled, fought, and won the battle. They cheer us (all of us) onward and upward as we continue the war in battles present and yet to come.
One day, however, the war will be over. There’ll be no more battles. There’ll be no more war. As the song says,

It is finished! The battle is over,
It is finished! There’ll be no more war.
It is finished! The end of the conflict,
It is finished, and Jesus is Lord!

"It Is Finished"
Written by William Gaither and Gloria Gaither

Family

It is good to be a part of a family.  Whether that family is biological or otherwise, one of the needs of every human is the need to belong.  Families that function properly make sure that all who are a part of that family are assured of their acceptance.
I am fortunate to be part of several families.  My biological family is, I think, a truly unusual family if for no other reason than we made a commitment long ago to get along and to look after one-another.  We’ve done that well over the years, especially since our mother and father passed on.  We’ve gotten together almost every year for the last 20 or more years, and have a good number of children, cousins, nieces, nephews, and in-laws who join us in these gatherings.
Pat and I are also part of a church family.  We tried out one church when we moved to Wichita, liked it, and have stayed.  We never looked beyond this one.  It’s unique, and fills a real need in the lives of its family members.
One Sunday morning, the minister made an announcement regarding the health condition of one of his biological family.  He asked the congregation for prayers and became emotional as he talked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone approach the stage area.  The man went up on stage while the minister was talking, put his arm around the minister, and said something to the effect of, “We’re gonna pray right now.”  He took over the microphone and led the entire congregation in prayer for the minister’s relative.
The man who did this was an Elder of the church and is himself battling cancer.  But he put aside his own aches, pains, and troubles to reach out to someone who has made it his life’s work to reach out to others.  I’m not sure there was a dry eye in the place when the Elder finished that prayer.
That’s what family is all about.

True Intelligence

I have always thought I was a reasonably intelligent individual.  Graduated ninth in my class in high school, with honors, 3.86 overall college GPA, 4.00 in the core courses.  I’ve held jobs that often required thought and work.  I consider myself to be at least moderately well-read and knowledgeable.
However, there are several things that I just look at and shake my head, because I have no clue how or why and probably never will.  One of those things is child abuse.
My wife and I are now in an occupation (houseparents) where the reality of child abuse (I don’t care if it’s physical, mental, emotional, or sexual…which includes all of the others) is before us every day.  Children are starved, chained, neglected, used for sex, given drugs, traded, passed around, and drained of all semblance of humanity or dignity.  This may not mean much to you, but when you see the effects every day and work with the effects every day and deal with the effects every day, it suddenly means a whole lot more.
The verse I am now thinking of suddenly means a whole lot more, too.  Mark records in Mark 10:13-16, “And they were bringing children to Him so that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked them.  But when Jesus saw this, He was indignant and said to them, “Permit the children to come to Me; do not hinder them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  “Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.”  And He took them in His arms and began blessing them, laying His hands on them.”
Now, I don’t know about you, but I believe that children have a special place in the heart of our God and Savior Jesus Christ.  And if you knew the way children were many times treated in those days, you would also know that Jesus made a powerful and compelling statement about His love for children and His desire that children be treated with dignity and respect.
I think I would rather stand before Jesus one day and answer to Him for just about anything OTHER than my mistreatment of a child.  I have a feeling there will not be much in the way of mercy or compassion for those who abuse the little ones among us.  I shudder at the thought that I may have, at some time, been guilty of some kind of improper action toward a child and thank God Almighty that the blood of Jesus Christ even covers these sins.

The Chill

“The Chill” has come.  This morning, I was uncomfortable as I trundled the garbage containers out to the street.  The trash man comes every Thursday about 9am, and as I took the containers out front for him to dump, I felt like I needed a jacket.
My understanding is that it will warm up in a day or two, so this chill won’t last long, but it won’t be long until a front blows through and the cold just hangs on for the rest of the winter.  We then can look forward to the few Indian Summer-type days that are left in this fall, and later on the first warm days of spring.
Winters aren’t as much fun for me as they used to be.  I dunno.  When we were younger, we were much more invincible, and a fall on the ice or shoveling snow wasn’t such a big deal.  Now, we have to be careful of falls (fractures, you know), and shoveling snow can mean heart conditions and more.  Driving is also much less an adventure and much more of a thing to be endured.  Somehow, maturity brings with it the knowledge that anything can happen out there, and every time we go out there and come back with nothing happening, we rejoice that we have once more conquered…something.
In any event, winter will be here whether we want it to come or not, and along with it the inevitable and sometimes interminable holidays, blahs, and claustrophobia.  Welcome spring!!

Amazing Love

It never ceases to amaze me; the older I get the more fascinated I become.  I’m talking of those couples that we all know who love one-another truly in sickness and in health.  Those couples of whom one of the two develops some devastating, incurable illness (such as Alzheimer’s Disease) and the other faithfully and lovingly cares for the other, even though the healthy person, too, is even then grieving over the loss.
It happened at our church recently.  And older couple—Bob and Enid—had been together for 61 years.  Enid developed Alzheimer’s some time back.  Bob himself is on the older side of life, and could not care for her himself.  However, he brought her to church, had a care-giver for her, and provided for her as no one else could.
When we first came to church there, he introduced Enid to me as his lovely and wonderful wife, even though she probably didn’t have any idea where she was or what was going on.  When the communion was passed, they made sure she was able to taste the bread and the wine.  They sat together, along with Enid’s care-giver, and Bob was always watching out for her.
I don’t know Bob and Enid well, as we’ve just moved to the community.  But in my experiences in health care, I’ve seen that same dedication and devotion to a spouse time after time.  It’s enough to make a grown man cry, and I sometimes do.
Daily visits to the nursing home where one may be residing, bathing, grooming, visiting, taking on outings, and a myriad of other activities are undertaken by both as they are able.  They sit, they visit, they hold hands, they kiss.  And even though one of the two usually has some form of dementia, the fire of love is still there, traveling between them, continuing to burn—yet not consume.
I am reminded of God’s promise to us, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”  Each time I see a couple in a situation like I’ve described, I’m again reminded that true love never, never, ever fails.

Just A Little Bit

I am offering the following, which came in an email. I don’t know who wrote this, or who the people are in the story. However, true or not, the story makes a valid and good point. I commend it to you.
Some years ago, I walked into my office after a Sunday morning service to find a sandwich bag on my desk containing three chocolate brownies. Some thoughtful and anonymous person who knew my love for chocolate had placed them there, along with a piece of paper that had a short story written on it. I immediately sat down and began eating the first brownie as I read the following story.
Two teenagers asked their father if they could go the theater to watch a movie that all their friends had seen. After reading some reviews about the movie on the internet, he denied their request. "Aw dad, why not?" they complained. "It's rated PG-13, and we're both older than thirteen!"
Dad replied: "Because that movie contains nudity and portrays immorality as being normal and acceptable behavior."
"But dad, those are just very small parts of the movie! That's what our friends who've seen it have told us. The movie is two hours long and those scenes are just a few minutes of the total film! It's based on a true story, and good triumphs over evil, and there are other redeeming themes like courage and self-sacrifice. Even the movie review websites say that!"
"My answer is 'no,' and that is my final answer. You are welcome to stay home tonight, invite some of your friends over, and watch one of the good videos we have in our home collection. But you will not go and watch that film. End of discussion."
The two teenagers walked dejectedly into the family room and slumped down on the couch. As they sulked, they were surprised to hear the sounds of their father preparing something in the kitchen. They soon recognized the wonderful aroma of brownies baking in the oven, and one of the teenagers said to the other, "Dad must be feeling guilty, and now he's going to try to make it up to us with some fresh brownies. Maybe we can soften him with lots of praise when he brings them out to us and persuade him to let us go to that movie after all."
About that time I began eating the second brownie from the sandwich bag and wondered if there was some connection to the brownies I was eating and the brownies in the story. I kept reading. The teens were not disappointed. Soon their father appeared with a plate of warm brownies, which he offered to his kids. They each took one. Then their father said, "Before you eat, I want to tell you something: I love you both so much." The teenagers smiled at each other with knowing glances. Dad was softening.
"That is why I've made these brownies with the very best ingredients. I've made them from scratch. Most of the ingredients are even organic - the best organic flour, the best free-range eggs, the best organic sugar, premium vanilla and chocolate." The brownies looked mouth-watering, and the teens began to become a little impatient with their dad's long speech.
"But I want to be perfectly honest with you. There is one ingredient I added that is not usually found in brownies. I got that ingredient from our own back yard. But you needn't worry, because I only added the tiniest bit of that ingredient to your brownies. The amount of the portion is practically insignificant. So go ahead, take a bite and let me know what you think."
Dad, would you mind telling us what that mystery ingredient is before we eat?"
"Why? The portion I added was so small, just a teaspoonful. You won't even taste it."
"Come on, dad; just tell us what that ingredient is."
"Don't worry! It is organic, just like the other ingredients."
"Dad!"
"Well, OK, if you insist. That secret ingredient is organic...dog poop."
I immediately stopped chewing that second brownie and I spit it out into the wastebasket by my desk. I continued reading, now fearful of the paragraphs that still remained.
Both teens instantly dropped their brownies back on the plate and began inspecting their fingers with horror. "DAD! Why did you do that? You've tortured us by making us smell those brownies cooking for the last half hour, and now you tell us that you added dog poop! We can't eat these brownies!"
"Why not? The amount of dog poop is very small compared to the rest of the ingredients. It won't hurt you It's been cooked right along with the other ingredients. You won't even taste it. It has the same consistency as the brownies. Go ahead and eat!"
"No, Dad...NEVER!"
"And that is the same reason I won't allow you to go watch that movie. You won't tolerate a little dog poop in your brownies, so why should you tolerate a little immorality in your movies? We pray that God will not lead us unto temptation, so how can we in good conscience entertain ourselves with something that will imprint a sinful image in our minds that will lead us into temptation long after we first see it?" I discarded what remained of the second brownie as well as the entire untouched third brownie. What had been irresistible a minute go had become detestable. And only because of the very slim chance that what I was eating was slightly polluted. (Surely it wasn't...but I couldn't convince myself.)
What a good lesson about purity! Why do we tolerate any sin, even in small amounts?

Thank God

I’ve only seen it twice. A girl comes to our facility with her parents/friends/relatives and moves in to the cottage. After a get-acquainted period which includes some signing of forms, introductions, a tour of the place, and a conversation with the caregivers, it’s time for Mom/Dad/Sis/Aunt/Grandpa to go and leave the girl behind.
I’ll never probably get over it. There is reluctance to leave and a long good-by; there are hugs and tears. Burly dads tear up as easily as feminine moms. And it works on me…the knowledge that they are leaving their loved one in our charge…in the home of stranger...hopeful that we can work some kind of magic that was absent until now.
It’s a time for me to stop, too, and reflect on what I’m doing and why. It’s a time for me to be at once thankful that people care enough to make a place like this a reality and angry that there exists a need for a facility of this kind at all.
It happened again yesterday. Chari (not her real name) came to stay with us. For awhile. For an undetermined time. Until she’s able to put the past behind her and learns to cope with the onrushing future. It will happen again...and again.
As long as there needs to be a place like this, it will happen. Dad will tear up and Auntie will cry aloud. Mom will long for one more hug and Grandpa will once again be the strong one for the family, as he once was years ago.
Thank God for places like this. Thank God for grandpas. And thank God that one day we won't need a place like this anymore.

Giving Account

Well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later.  I’m fighting a virus (cold) that I’m sure I picked up from one of the girls, who probably picked it up in school, etc.  I haven’t had a good cold for several years, and a warm weather cold has been even more of a rarity for me lately.
They say it takes about a week to shake a cold if you treat it and seven days if you don’t.  I prefer, however, to treat the symptoms, which tends to make things much more tolerable for me.  Hence the trip to Dillons a few minutes ago to pick up some antihistamine, which will dovetail nicely with my Tylenol and Sudafed.
I wonder what people in the olden days did before they had Dimetapp, Coricidin, Robitussin, and all the rest.  Can you imagine a cowboy on the prairie herding cattle and suffering from a cold…or worse yet, from allergies kicked up by the dust and pollen of the prairie?  What about those who suffered from migraines, hay fever, and other maladies?  And I won’t even go into hemorrhoids and those kinds of ailments.
The good, or even tolerable days were probably fewer and farther between in those days.  The blessing was that many people didn’t live long enough to have a lot of bad days.  Diabetes was always fatal.  Strokes, heart attacks, cancers, etc., were a scourge.  And even catching the flu was a serious matter, many times ending in death or at least a weakened condition.
We have much for which to thank our Creator.  We also have much for which to give account one day.

One Question Unasked

The roofers are here today.  They’re putting a new roof on our home here on campus.  Evidently sometime last spring, a hail storm came through and ruined many roofs in this part of Wichita.  We’ve seen roofers busy in several parts of our neighborhood.
This week, they were on the campus.  We have several buildings (9) and they all needed a new roof.  I don’t know the name of the company, but like so many roofing companies these days, they’ve employed a crew of Hispanics to work the roofs.
There are upwards of 20 men on the roof most of the time.  They don’t take long to strip off the old shingles, remove any leftover nails, lay down the felt paper and put on the new shingles.  They can complete a large home in a day and not even work much past 5 o’clock.
Several of them banter and make jokes during the day.  Several of them hum or sing some song.  They all know what their job is, and work well together even though the scene looks chaotic at times.
I have to wonder about these men.  I’m sure they are itinerant, moving from city to city as hail storms come and go.  Where are they living while they are in Wichita?  How do they receive good medical care, being always on the move?  What about dental care?  Where are their families?  How long have they been doing this?  Do they intend to do this until their health no longer permits?  How much are they paid?  Where do they do their laundry?  Where do they use the bathroom during their work time?  What do they do in their off time?
If you’ll look, you’ll see, though, that one question is not in the list.  It’s perhaps the most important question of all.  Do you know what it is?  I’ll give you a hint.  The word “Jesus” is in the question.
Now you know.  Why wasn’t that the first question in my head?  Why do I ask where they go to the bathroom rather than whether or not they know Jesus?  I don’t know.  I’m not sure I want to know.

Just Things

I know it’s been a week since I’ve written.  Those two or three of you that read my blog are, I’m sure, very disappointed in my lack of writing desire.  However, I have an excuse this time.
We started our week off last Thursday afternoon.  That evening, we went to Hays, Kansas to help our youngest son, his wife and our granddaughter move to Emporia.  He found work there on campus of Emporia State and this was the weekend to make the big move.
Friday, we got the truck, loaded and drove to Emporia.  Saturday, we unloaded the truck, took it back to the U haul place, and we started putting together a household.  Sunday, we attended services at a local church, then worked some more that afternoon on the house.  Sunday evening, we came back to Wichita.
Today (Monday), I spent a couple of hours in the dentist chair getting a crown prep on a molar.  We also, since I do my dentistry in my hometown, went to a neighboring community and did some shopping in a men’s store that I liked when we lived in south-central Kansas.
The owner-operators were still there, noticeably older, but every bit as talkative as ever.  I bought three pull-over shirts, ordered some Nike shoes (the inexpensive, non-flashy kind), and a sport coat.  When I go back down on the 29th for my crown install, I’ll go back down there and fit the coat and pick up the shoes.  What service.  They’ve got the Wichita stores beat by miles in service and accommodation.
So it’s been a full time off for us.  We still have some things to do before the girls come back to see us for three weeks this coming Thursday.  I may not write for a few days, but again may write tomorrow.  Who knows?  Check back.

Keeping Sane

I was just sure the world would come crashing down upon us this weekend as we’ve had the girls for a four-day holiday weekend.  Friday, school was out for an inservice day (whatever that is) and Monday (today) is Labor Day.  However, we’ve made it this far (Monday at 10:45am) without any major meltdowns or issues.
Now, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t any problems.  The Plank Psychological Associates office is open and has been busy with a steady stream of “she said _____”, “it isn’t fair that _________”, and “nobody cares about (again, fill in the blank).”
But somehow, we manage to bump along from one hour to the next, getting chores done, getting in some exercise, and getting ready for school on Tuesday.  It always amazes me when lights are out and things are quiet just HOW quiet things really are.  I sort of wish I wasn’t so tired that I couldn’t enjoy the quiet at that time, but my eyelids are drooping then too, just as are those of the girls.
Here’s to Labor Day and four-day weekends at children’s homes…and the house parents that keep their sanity through it all.

It's Saturday Morning

It’s Saturday morning at Harrold Cottage, and I’m reminded of the old Bobby Russell song “Saturday Morning Confusion”.  Yes, I know that my girls are older than the kids depicted in the song.  But in many ways, it’s the same here as it is in the song.  I already can’t wait until bed time and it’s only 9am.



Saturday Morning Confusion

- Artist: Bobby Russell
- peak Billboard position # 28 in 1971
- Words and Music by Bobby Russell*


Here they come, warmin' up
I hear the pitter-patter of little people on the livin' room rug
Whoa is me!  There goes the TV
Now it's Popeye and Pluto, Batman and Bozo
Don't spill the corn flakes, they'll break at lunch break
Home from the office, why did I stop to have a beer with the boys?
Now my head's 'bout to pop

It's a Saturday morning confusion
If you think you can sleep, it's illusion
'cause you'll probably get a rude intrusion from Harry the dog
Harry the dog is as big as can be
'n' Harry the dog had puppies last week
We couldn't tell if it's a he or a she, now we know

It's a Saturday morning confusion
If I could just get to the bathroom
And get a cold rag and an aspirin to help how I feel
But here come the twins and they're screamin' at me
What is the deal to turn off the TV?
"Go ask your mother and quietly, your daddy is ill"

There he is-Cousin Jack
You got the leaf rake, too, keep at it till I get it all back
Hangin' round my yard, snoopin' in my garage
I tolerate 'im because he's my cousin
He's nice to the kids and Harry just loves him!

It's a Saturday morning confusion
And if I could just hide in my attic
So I couldn't hear my wife yellin' "Take 'em all to the show"
I'll take the whole neighborhood to the show
I'll just walk out in back where the money-tree grows
Grab me a handful and off to the show we'll go

It's a Saturday morning confusion
And if I could just get a transfusion
Or maybe go hide in the bedroom till five o'clock
Let it be known that at five the TV
Is gonna be tuned to the Game Of the Week
And that goes for dogs and twins and the whole family

It's a Saturday morning confusion
It's a Saturday morning confusion   day is done

Cousin Jack, in his yard cooking steaks on a grill that I'll never get back
The twins in front of the TV, Harry with his fam'ly
Sis on her date and Mom at the door smiles as she surveys the sight
For the first time today, the kingdom is quiet

LORD, LET US THANK YOU FOR SATURDAYS
AND MAY THEY REMAIN OUR FRIENDS!!
'cause I work all week long
Be strong till they're grown
And next Saturday then, we'll do it again

a- Here they come, warmin' up
I hear the pitter-patter of little people on the livin' room rug

FADE
Whoa is me!  There goes the TV

When Will We Grow Up?

I was noticing the clouds this morning as I sat out on the porch and the sun rose in the eastern sky. The wind was gently pushing puffy, cotton ball clouds generally to the south, and as they changed shape and the sun rose, the sky changed its appearance almost constantly.
I thought of God using the heavens as a canvas, having fun with His creation of clouds, wind, sun, and water. I thought about Him moving this cloud here…making that cloud come between the sun and another cloud…causing shadows and hues to fill the sky. I wonder if He thought about how many people were actually taking the time to watch Him paint the sky and bring forth a true miracle…the begetting of another day.
God indeed is faithful. He makes the sun to rise, the wind to blow, the sky to drop rain. And He does it all regardless of whether anyone in His creation is paying attention to His handiwork or not…whether anyone in His creation pauses to thank Him or not. He’s like the traffic cop that’s always on the beat or the ambulance attendant that is always at the ready. He’s like the electricity, natural gas, and water that we’ve come to just expect each time the furnace comes on, the light switch is flipped, or the tap is turned.
And we treat Him just as we treat those things. We’ve come to expect perfect days, just the right amount of rain, and temperatures not too hot or cold. Then we gripe when it isn’t just the way we want it. When will we ever grow up?

The Rains Came Down

“The rains came down and the floods came up…”  So goes the lyrics to a children’s song about the parable told by Jesus of the wise man and the foolish man.  Remember, the wise man built his house on the rock, but the foolish man built his house on the sand.  When the storm came, the house on the rock stood, but the house on the sand washed away.
Have you ever felt that your life was resting on a sandy underpinning, and that underpinning was slowly and inexorably washing away?  You felt like you needed to get yourself on something more solid and secure?
I don’t necessarily feel that way, but there have been times in the last week or two when I thought briefly that all order and decorum was slipping away out from under me and I was sliding toward some kind of abyss.
That never happened, though, because something under me caught me and kept me from washing away.  Maybe it was a rocky foundation…maybe it was something else.  I don’t know, but I do know that I’m grateful to Whoever it was that put that thing that caught me under me.

Shaping and Molding

Today is Friday.  We’ve been through, almost, a week of school with our girls.  We’re getting the hang of getting up early and getting six girls up and ready for school.  Now all we need to do is figure out the hard parts of this job.
I think I said once, maybe in this blog, that this was probably the most challenging job I’ve ever had in my life.  I’ve had challenges…many of them.  But this one, because it involves so many people who have so many issues, and because there is so little normalcy in these people’s lives, is a challenge unlike any I’ve had before.
We have treatment team meeting today and have a chance to do our own laundry and get things ready for the weekend.  So we’re trying to take full advantage of that time.
Life doesn’t always hand you what you think you need or deserve.  It seldom hands you what you want.  But if you take what you’re given and work with it…use it…mold it…shape it…and allow it to work, mold, and shape you, you find that what you’ve been given is just what you needed after all, and probably was what you wanted.
Oh, I’m not talking about anyone wanting cancer or a car wreck or something like that.  What I said was that if you  work with those things…use those things…shape those things…and let those things work, shape, and mold you, chances are you’ll find out that you’re the better person for it.  Even if those things end up taking your life and you’re a child of the living God, what better position could you be in than to be in the presence of the One who loves you unlike any other.

No Desire

We indeed have been, and continue to be blessed by being here in Wichita at this time in our lives.  Yes, the work is difficult.  Yes, we’ve already raised one family and now we voluntarily moved in with another.  Yes, we are working with kids who have issues and problems that have brought them here.  And yes, the pay is not great and the time spent is considerable (three weeks on [24-7]} and one week off.
But where else could we be right now that is better?  If we had our ‘druthers, where would we rather be?  I can’t answer that question with anything other than here, doing this, in this place.  We came out of health care and have no desire to return.
Health care is becoming so bloated, so bureaucratic, so regulated, so greedy, and so cumbersome that it is virtually impossible to do one’s job, whether one is a registered nurse, a lab tech, a housekeeper, or an administrator.  I mourn for the health care system because it is not only broken, it is dying.  Some are trying to salvage it, rescue it, or save it.  Others are milking what is left of it for all it’s worth while the milking is good.  And the consumer is the loser., just as the consumer is the loser in most aspects of our capitalist system.
Now, I’m not saying that we should do anything different, necessarily, because I don’t have any answers.  As long as the consumer is aware of the pitfalls of capitalism and the dangers of the road ahead, and plunges ahead anyway, who am I to suggest something different.  And we do know the pitfalls.  We can see the dangers.  We should know what is coming…but many of us prefer to keep our heads the sand.
Besides, I don’t think there’s any place in the world today that I would rather be than here, now, even with all the problems and issues we have.  There are even more in other places, I think.  That doesn’t mean that we don’t work to make our system better.  That doesn’t mean that we don’t criticize ourselves.  That doesn’t mean that we don’t make (as the politicians love to say) the tough choices.
God bless America.

The Girls Are Coming

The girls are coming back today.  We have one less than we had a week ago, as one girl is no longer in the program.  So we’ll have six this week.  They will have a slumber party of sorts tonight here.  We’ll get some movies, popcorn, goodies, pop, etc. and let them stay up late tonight.  But not all night.  We old folks can’t handle that.
We had a good, restful week this past week.  I am anxious about keeping the girls, but know that if we just take this one day at a time, we can do this.  I also know that we need to focus on the troubles of the day (sufficient for the day is the trouble therein) and not be concerned about what may or  may not come up in the coming hours and days.  God will give us the strength and wisdom we need in the here and now.  I believe that.  Now I need to live my life such that I practice that.
It’s quiet here now, but in a short time, they’ll be carrying their things back over here, ready (or not) to spend the next three weeks with us.  And we with them.  Praise be to our Creator for His marvelous grace!

Search Your Heart

We were in Hays this last weekend seeing my son and his family (our new granddaughter).  While there, we had the opportunity to worship at the local Church of Christ.
This building was where I was baptized 32-some odd years ago, where we married, and where we got acquainted with our Christian family.  Only one person is still there who was there when we were there those years ago.
The congregation has changed over the years.  I’ve sort of tried to keep track of them and what is happening with them.  They’ve had preachers, preacher problems, high attendance, low attendance, and everything in between.
But one thing I noticed about the worship at Hays, compared with Topeka or Wichita was the nature and tenor of the service.  The service was…well…the best word to describe it is “primitive”.
Now, that’s not a bad term.  The way I’m using it, it means simple, easy-going, home-spun, unpretentious, not showy or glitzy.  And don’t get the wrong idea.  I’m not saying that worship in Topeka or Wichita is pretentious, showy, or glitzy.  What I’m saying is that there’s a world of difference in worship in rural areas and small churches, and the larger, more metropolitan assemblies.  I think that’s true in any denomination.
Is one right and the other wrong?  Of course not.  Do some people prefer one over the other?  Yes, they do.  Some prefer the slower paced, simpler services.  Others like the more organized and polished variety.
Do they both get the job done?  It depends on what you think “the job” of worship assembly is.  For the answer to this question, you have to search your own heart.  I can’t do that for you.

Recent Happenings

I haven’t written much this past week. We’ve had the girls for a week, having given them to the relief houseparent last Friday afternoon. It’s been a time of recuperation for us.
We went to Western Kansas Saturday evening and Sunday, stopping in Central Kansas along the way. Our son and daughter-in-law along with our new grandbaby live in Western Kansas, and my wife’s family lives in Central Kansas. We made kind of a flying trip to see both sides of the family.
Yesterday, we just rested, as we are doing today. We’re working on changes to the schedules of the girls today, and hope to have something solidified with the relief houseparent on that soon.
Pat now is going with the relief parent to the school to pick up the girls, so she can see where they are picked up and how that situation is. I will go at another time…perhaps tomorrow morning.
This remains probably the most challenging and the most difficult work we’ve ever done. It won’t get any easier any time soon. Please continue in your prayers for us as we continue down life’s adventure that God will continue to work through us and that He will give us abundantly more than we can ever ask or even think.

A Friend

I lost a friend Tuesday. He died as a result of a fire that engulfed his mobile home. You know how bad those fires can be. He didn’t have a chance.
I’ve not seen him in thirty years. I’ve not spoken to him in that time, either. But I’ve thought about him…a lot…over the years and have followed his career in broadcasting. Those of you in Kansas who are reading this would immediately recognize his voice, if not his name or face.
Sheldon Craig Workman (Kevin Craig was his DJ or personality name) was the voice of the Dillons Food Stores for many years until this week, and has done other commercials (in Wichita, the “carganza” commercials and many others) that have run nationwide over the past thirty or so years. He also did intros for newscasts for KSN and other stations. That was his business. He marketed and sold his voice for commercials and voice-overs.
His voice was more than smooth...more than inviting...more than deep. His voice could (almost) melt butter. He had "the touch". He had "the range." He had "the golden vocal cords". He had what 99 percent of all other radio and TV personalities wish they had..."the voice". His was the standard by which others were measured...nationwide.
I first heard of Kevin when he was a DJ on the old 98FM KFH in the late 60’s in Wichita. They played rock, and I was into it. He was one of four young men that the station hired to develop younger listeners and a following. The only other one I remember now was Robert St. John, which undoubtedly was a personality name.
I moved to Hays when I finished tech school and got a job at KAYS Radio and TV. Kevin Craig came several months later as a DJ and personality. It was a dream come true for this farm boy-turning-man who was still finding himself and his way in life. KC (Kevin Craig) was larger-than-life!! And he was coming to Hays, America!! We quickly developed a friendship, and spent time together. We rode motorcycles, talked, listened to Chicago (one of his favorite groups) and generally had fun during the time we had together.
His grandparents lived in McCracken, not far from Hays, and we went to visit them a time or two…once on motorcycles. He was not at all in person like his on-air persona. He was quiet, unassuming, intelligent, and somewhat shy. He was lonely, just as I was, and to my surprise was very, very human. I cherish those memories.
Kevin was someone I’ve always counted on my short list of friends, even though we haven’t spoken for all these years. He was a groomsman at Pat and my wedding. His recent photos look just like those of years ago. I’m not sure he aged any at all.
I would like to think he would have remembered me and we would have enjoyed meeting again. In fact, when we moved to Wichita, I thought about looking him up (finally), knowing that he lived east of Mulvane. I could have tried to look him up before now, but something always kept me from making that call or driving out that way. That something was that Kevin continued to be a larger-than-life person in my mind, even as he was when he was a DJ on KFH-FM and I was an 18 year old teenager awed by the savvy and coolness of the DJs on the radio. I didn’t think then that I would ever get to know the great KC, and couldn’t believe it (and still can’t) to have been able to spend time with him in Hays.
Even as I contemplated looking him up a week or so ago, I thought that he might not really want to see me or care. But that wasn’t the real Kevin Craig, and deep down, I knew that. He did care. Deeply. And he would have wanted me to come see him. And we would have done some reminiscing and gotten caught up on what’s happened in our lives. And the void that is now in my soul wouldn’t be quite as large, open, and bleeding.
There’s a lesson here. You’ve heard it before. Don’t wait. It may become too late. Look up that friend. Tell someone you care. Send that letter. Write that email. Make that phone call. You just never know….

We Continue On

I’m not going to bore you with the details of our last several days getting used to the girls and they to us.  I will say that after seeing them, I can certainly understand how parents could be at the end of their ropes in dealing with them.  I also wonder how they got along as well as they did with all the issues they are facing.  This is a controlled environment, and it’s all some of them can do to just get through the day.
Of course, it wears on us as well.  This is parenting at some of the most intense levels.  I knew, yet I had not a clue.  It’s taking all that I have and am to make this work.  I’ve not faced a challenge like this, I think, in my life.  The only thing close would be the first few months of work at Oakley at the hospital there.
We continue on.  Keep us in your prayers.

We're Off

In just a couple of minutes, the first of our “charges” will be coming through the door. We’re asking that they come in about 5 minute intervals, but we’ll see how that works. Deep breath, suck it up, and we’re off.

Yesterday's News

Today is Monday.  We had a good day yesterday attending one of the local churches in the area, meeting people and enjoying the services.  We then spent the afternoon in some un-Sabbath-like work…unpacking more boxes and moving furniture.  But we got the bedroom walk-in closet pretty much set up, moved the last of the boxes from off the floor of the bedroom, organized the downstairs recreation area (for the girls) and were ready to call it a day.
However, the day wasn’t quite over as I discovered that the large chest freezer in the garage wasn’t working.  There was no power in the outlet.  No breakers were thrown and only one other outlet (in the garage) wasn’t working.  So I ran an extension cord to an outlet in the garage that was working and we’ll contact Bill (the maintenance man) today.
I had a conference with the relief houseparent and one of the girls yesterday…one that will be moving into our home this Friday.  We are getting to know the girls and hopefully will have some idea how they think and interact with one-another before they make the move.  That will be vital, as we must set up a working household from day one.  We don’t have the luxury of taking several weeks to get it right.
Today will be hot (again) and humid (sigh), and a time to stay indoors if at all possible.  I’m looking forward to it.

Routines

I have already set up kind of a routine in the mornings when we get up.  I open the window shades, make coffee, generally inspect things, and straighten up the kitchen if needed.  I then will go out onto the front porch to think.
I don’t think this routine will hold once the girls get here and school starts.  Actually, my guess is that I’ll have to do it all over.  Other people just bring a dynamic into one’s life that is impossible to ignore…especially when you have charge of them 24 hours a day.
But for now, the routine is good.  It brings a sense of order into what is still a chaotic situation for Pat and me.  My guess is that the chaos will reign for the foreseeable future as we absorb a ready-made family and deal with the comings and goings of girls into and out of the family.  However, we also know that the hand of God lives in this situation and enables us to see by faith that order and control are truly His.  We can, with eyes of faith, see that order and control and are grateful for the Rock which is ours to anchor upon.

Hectic Days

As you might guess, the last several days have been hectic, to say the least regarding them. You know the routine. You move boxes, open boxes, take a couple ibuprofen, unpack boxes, move furniture, put beds together, take more ibuprofen, try to find a “home” for everything, remove empty boxes, take out trash, take still more ibuprofen, and wonder why you moved as much stuff as you did.
We also have been learning what it means to be a houseparent here. We’ve attended meetings, met at least some of the children (some are at summer camp), and run errands for the home. We’ve studied policies and handbooks, filled out countless forms regarding insurance and employment, and visited often with our supervisor (Randy).
Tonight, Pat is staying in another cottage in preparation for staying with the girls there for the weekend. This cottage is a life skills cottage, and the girls who live there are older and pretty much on their own in the daytime. But at night, they still need some gentle supervision and Pat will provide that for a few days.
I’ll be here continuing to put things away and get the office in order. I’ll also work on getting addresses changed on things like insurance, credit cards, bills, etc. This is a hassle, this tie we have to society and our way of life. Time was when you could move and not tell anyone…it didn’t really matter. Now, you can’t do anything unless other people have all your numbers, your address, and a photo ID. Then they’re not sure they really believe you.
We have to get our TB skin tests read tomorrow afternoon at the health department. Hope we don’t forget it, because if we do, we have to repeat the test. We also have a team meeting and some other things going on tomorrow. It should be an interesting day.

We're Home

We made it. We're in Wichita. We had our last church service this morning, said our good-byes to several folks, went to get the truck (in Lawrence) and loaded and drove here. We had help this afternoon. Thanks Earl, Chris, Mary, and Vernon. Thanks Kevin, Scott, Michael, and Deanna. Without you, we couldn't have done this.
For the first time while talking with my new supervisor today, I said "we" in reference to the place we will be working. I told him that and said that we are in the midst of a change in our minds in terms of ownership. That was a good sign, and one that I was appreciative of seeing in myself today.
We will stay with my brother tonight, then unload the truck in the morning. We think several will be there to help and we can get it done in an hour or so. We go to the office tomorrow, fill out the requisite paper work, and start on the payroll.
Now the real work begins.

To Glorify God

This likely will be my last blog before we move from Topeka.  It’s Saturday night and I need to break down the PC and get it ready to move.
This has been a wondrous, wonderful time here in the Capital City of Kansas.  My wife and I have grown to be very fond of a people and a place in so short of a time.  We truly leave here with mixed emotions.
We were in Gage Park one last time this evening.  We talked about our times of moving and how some people seem to have such ordered lives.  We, on the other hand, have moved more times than I care to count (I think this will be the 11th time as husband and wife).  We were blessed to be in one place while our children were growing up and in school.  And one of us said that since it’s just the two of us, it really doesn’t matter much now whether we move a lot or not.
That’s true, very true.  Anyone who has given his/her life to Jesus Christ and is trying to live that life as being directed by God will be blessed if he or she never moves and blessed also if he or she has to move often.  After all, as Christians, we’re not here for ourselves, but rather to glorify the One who created us and sustains us.

The Disconnect

As I was driving back to the house this evening following the running of an errand, I thought of the disconnect that we are feeling now that we know we are moving.  That disconnect is something that is probably the most disconcerting to me at a time like this.
I no longer call Topeka home, and no longer call our place our home, yet we have not yet moved and begun to sink roots in Wichita.  It’s a kind of listless feeling…one that I’m sure many people feel in the course of their lives…but yet one that I don’t fully understand.
I can’t fathom what it must be like to be homeless and feel this way all the time; or to be a refugee and feel the disconnect, but not have a place to go.  I can’t imagine how it must feel to not be able to stand on soil somewhere and say that this is home.
We will be disconnected about 48 hours longer; then we will begin to plant roots in our new home.  We are truly blessed.