Something Good

I went on kind of a brief nostalgia kick yesterday.  I Googled “Tom Terrific”.  Stop and think back, you who are older than about 45 years.  Who was Tom Terrific?  Does Mighty Manfred the Wonder Dog help any?  What about Crabby Appleton?
Well, in case you haven’t remembered yet, this was a cheaply produced Terrytoons cartoon on the Captain Kangaroo children’s show.  I think only 26 episodes were created, and they were created especially for the Captain.
http://www.tvparty.com/lostterrytoons.html has a link down the page that brings up a little over a minute’s worth of audio and video of an old Tom Terrific show.  Wow!  Did that ever bring back the memories!  http://www2.wi.net/~rkurer/toontracker/tomter1.html plays the theme song.
So think back to the good Captain, Dancing Bear, Bunny Rabbit, Grandfather Clock, Mr. Greenjeans (Hugh “Lumpy” Branum), and all the others…including the Banana Man.  Remember him?  Some time today, when you’re alone in your thoughts, think of some of this and smile.  And if someone sees you and asks you what you’re smiling about, just tell them that you remembered something good.

To Write, or Not To Write

My beloved sis tells me that I need to get my hiney in gear and write.  She even goes so far as to give me an assignment to write a paragraph about something…then suggests I write about what Susie (my dog) means to me.
Actually, I’m not sure if Susie belongs to me, or if I belong to her.  It seems we differ on that assessment of our relationship more often than we agree.  Yes, it’s true that I buy the expensive Science Diet whatever dog food, at the recommendation of the equally expensive Veterinarian, and that the change in diet has brought back some of the energy and sparkle that once were hers in abundance.  Yes, it’s true that I provide shelter from the rain, warmth from the cold, and therapy in the form of rubbing and petting.  And, yes, it’s true that I provide her with everything she needs, including a doggie heating pad on the couch, and a perch on the back of the couch to look out our front window.
However, she would readily tell you that the perch on the back of the couch isn’t just a luxury.  It’s absolutely critical for her to be able to tell me when the mail comes, when someone walks in front of the house, or when the squirrels are feeding on the front lawn.  She’ll tell you that the shelter that I provide is only in return for her eternal vigilance and adeptness at keeping away all manner of vermin (both human and animal) that may want to invade.  She’ll also tell you that although her diet is expensive, it’s no more than fair given all the energy she expends to mark “our” territory and keep me in shape by playing ball with me from time to time.
So, while it’s generally true from the human perspective that man owns dog, when looked at from all angles, the black and white rapidly fades into foggy shades of gray and the normal muddle-headedness of my mind is only exacerbated by the thought of writing about “my” dog.

Who Else Can I Go To?

Today started out rather well, but quickly became a kind of a downer.  I got an email from my sis this morning saying that Anthony Burger, pianist and Southern Gospel performer, had passed away suddenly while in concert and on stage.  He was 44 years old.  Mr. Burger was a staple on the Gaither Homecoming videos and in their live concerts, playing accompaniment as well as solo performances.
Although I did not personally know the man, I had the greatest respect for his abilities as a musician, and have many videos and recordings of him at work.  The fact that he left a family at age 44 is even harder to swallow.
I don’t understand why things happen the way they do.  I have no clue why things like this work out like they do.  And I have nothing to say to the family, or anyone in a situation like this.  Words do little.  They provide little comfort, little solace, and no answers, because there aren’t any.
“Do you trust me?”  “Will you follow me?”  “Will you let me be your God, even though you don’t understand and can’t figure out what I’m doing or where I’m going?”  That’s all I have, God.  Who else can I go to but you?

Capturing the Essence

I did something this morning that I don’t often do.  I turned on the TV while reading the morning paper.  I turned to the channel with “The Beverly Hillbillies” on in rerun.  For those who don’t know, that show dominated the ratings in the 1960’s and I think early 1970’s.  It is still on in rerun, and probably has been running continuously since it was taken off prime time years ago.
Although all who were on the show were good actors, the one who makes the show is Jethro, played by Max Baer.  Mr. Baer captured the essence of his character in a way that few actors do, and is the lifeblood and reason for the longevity of that show.
Many people go through life with a nagging sense of unfulfillment and restlessness, but have not a clue where to find relief.  Unlike Mr. Baer as he is in character, they haven’t captured, I think, the essence of who they are and their purpose for being.  To do that requires getting out of oneself and out of the routine of the greed and gimme culture into which we are immersed.  And there are very few who are truly successful in that requirement.  Are you one of them?

Rambling & Reminiscing

One of the columnists in the Topeka Capital-Journal reminisced today about things of his earlier years.  He’s about my age, and I can relate to his wandering back into his early-day recollections of how things were.
I, too, find myself thinking about the things of my childhood and early adulthood.  I even find myself talking to others at times about what it was like in the 50’s, or where I was when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, or what I was doing when JFK was shot.  I tell of times when a trip to Wichita from our hometown was more than just a 45 minute routine.  It was a once-in-a-year experience not to be forgotten.  And I talk of relatives long departed and how I remembered them.
They tell me that this urge to recall the past only grows stronger with age.  They say that I will continue to regress, so to speak, and that there may come a time when I just go back and live in the past, at least in what is left of my demented mind.
While I enjoy the memories of the past, I have no desire to go back to that time.  I enjoy the Internet, cell phones, digital cable, and modern medicine too much to wish for that time.  I like the idea of automobiles routinely lasting well over 200,000 miles, and the Interstate highway system.  I’m in no hurry to regress to my childhood, sheltered and innocent though it may be.
So give me a break when I reminisce and understand that, although it’s something I enjoy doing, in no way am I suggesting that it was somehow better then.  Smile and nod occasionally as I ramble, and remember that you will one day do to some unsuspecting soul as I am doing to you.

Cause and Effect

We hear a lot about global warming, and I suppose there might be something to that issue.  After all, how much carbon dioxide can one put into the environment without altering that environment in some way?  Of course, the issue isn’t black and white—few are.  There are about as many sides to global warming as there are sides on a chiliagon (look that up on your search engine).
My point today isn’t to talk about carbon dioxide, global warming, or polygons with weird names.  My point is that we all, just by being who we are, effect change of some kind.  We may think we don’t matter to anyone else, or that the world will never know or care that we exist, but that simply isn’t true.  Even those in the most primitive cultures have effects on the rest of the world in ways not clearly seen and understood.
Think of those who have given their lives in mission service to those people in primitive cultures and areas of the world.  Think of the time, money, and energy spent to deliver a message of hope and freedom.  Think of the love and compassion that has been demonstrated time after time after time.  The people of those cultures have had a profound effect on many, many people in more advanced civilizations.
Think now of the homeless that I saw (and wrote earlier about) a few days ago when I visited the local Rescue Mission.  They don’t know it, but they had a profound impact on me.  It made alive the rather sterile and clinical idea that there were people in need.  I needed that visit, and plan to visit again soon.
No one is an island.  No one stands alone.

The Soup Line

I normally don’t do two blogs in one day.  That’s OK, though.  If you didn’t want to read it, you wouldn’t be on my site.
I spent some time at the local Rescue Mission this morning.  The local evangelical association held it’s monthly meeting there, and for lunch we went through the soup line just as did everyone else who came there today.
I haven’t been to a mission since I was a teenager.  I was again humbled by God during that visit.  Yes, there were the usual (I know I’m stereotyping here) bums and down-and-outers.  They aren’t any less God’s children than I am.  In addition, it’s only by God’s grace that I am not counted among that group.  Does that make me a better person than they?  Don’t make me laugh.
There were also young moms with kids, men nicely dressed, and couples…some younger, some older…who ate there.  I have no clue why they are there, and it doesn’t matter.  The fact is they are there.  Moreover, they have need.  Yes, and they are children of God.  The mission feeds anyone who comes in the door, for whatever reason.
I’ll save the “Why are we arguing about petty issues in our church while people are hungry and cold?” thing for another blog.  For now, what have I done to “give a cup of cold water” recently?  Or ever?  Am I satisfied with sending some pittance to a charitable place once in awhile?  Or does Jesus ask for more than that?

Who Are You, God?

For those who may read this who aren’t religious, it may be a stretch for you to relate to my life with God.  That’s OK.  It’s a stretch for me to relate to your life without God.  So we’re on equal footing, so to speak.  However, this is my blog, and I write for my edification and growth.
Each of us has a belief system.  The atheist, the agnostic, the transcendentalist…we all have belief systems.  You have a belief system, too.  I make no apologies for my beliefs, nor do I make apologies for my blog.  Some days, I’ll talk of the ordinary.  Other days, I’ll get more on my faith soapbox.  You get what you get.
The day started out well for me.  I got up an hour earlier than normal, and attended an early morning Bible study at the home of a brother in Christ.  This is not a normal thing for me, but I must say that I truly enjoyed the time spent in discussion of those things that truly matter.
We talked about being content with what we have, because we have God (Hebrews 13).  He says He will never leave us or forsake us.  If we have God and yet aren’t content, what other thing could possibly satisfy us?
My task this day is to examine my life, my motives and intent, and my relationship with the Creator.  Who are you, God, and what do you want with me?

No Mood to Read

Why is it that I feel so alone sometimes?  Yes, the lovely wife is here.  Yes, I have friends.  Yes, I have family.  I am truly blessed.
But sometimes, it seems like God is nowhere to be found.  I know this isn’t rocket science.  He says He will never leave me or forsake me.  He says He wants a relationship with me.  He says He wants to be my shepherd.  He says all of that, yet sometimes I feel like He’s too busy with important things to deal with me.
I know that’s not true.  For those of you who are reading this and are Christian, you also know that’s not true.  Those truths are part of our Christian heritage and our assurance.  But it still doesn’t make it any easier during those times when He seems to have gone on vacation and not forwarded His phone.
So what’s up with this?  Is God playing some kind of weird game with me?  Is there something amiss on my end that is ruining the connection between me and Him?  I wish I knew.  In fact, if I knew, I’d probably write a book.  Come to think of it, someone already probably has written a book on this issue.  But I don’t think I’m in any mood to read any book right now.

Blogging

When I signed up to do a blog, I wasn’t sure it was the thing for me.  After all, one hears much about what is wrong with the Internet.  Blogging, while not usually pornographic or otherwise offensive of societal sensibilities (although there are those blogs that are all of that, and more), is sometimes lumped in with all of the other that is indecent about the web.
But I took the leap, and even from time to time click on “next blog” in the upper right corner of my page to see what random blog will pop up.  Most are of no interest to me.  Some are sales pitches.  Some are in a language other than English.  A very few are downright nasty.  Many talk of family, hobbies, friends, or other interests.
I have three blogs in my favorites right now that I have found interesting in one way or another.  One is http://lindaruthswriting.blogspot.com/ and is written by someone from Kansas who is a writer.  She has posted several of her writings on the blog, and they are pretty good, if I may say.
Another one is by a woman who is in chaplaincy training.  She’s had to take time off to deal with her husband’s illness.  Her blog is at http://renitabutler.typepad.com/
A third one is a woman who is going through breast cancer, stage III.  She lives in the Pacific Northwest.  I think you will appreciate her insights at http://www.highiqworld.com/mensagrrl/
And then there’s my dear sister, going through school psychologist training.  She is posting (somewhat irregularly, I might add) at http://psychadventures.blogspot.com/
Take some time.  Look at some blogs.  If you like what you see, go back from time to time.  Comment on them as well.  Have fun.

Choices

Major Margaret Houlihan, head nurse on the old television series M.A.S.H. is in the operating room in one episode.  Someone she has been caring for has just died.  She says, “It never fails to astonish me.  You’re alive.  You’re dead.  No drums.  No flashing lights.  No fanfare.  You’re just dead.”
Yes, Major, it is that way, at least from one perspective.  People die constantly and the world goes on.  People are here…then gone…and no one seems to pay much mind, except for those few who are friends and loved ones of the deceased.  Someone else quickly steps in and takes over the job that person had done down at the office.  Someone else quickly moves into the hospital room where the person who died had been.  Someone else needs the nursing home room that the now-deceased person had occupied.  Someone else takes the slot reserved for the dead person at the doctor’s office, the golf course, the theater, or the KU basketball game.  And life goes on.
The greater question, though, is what we have done during the time we were alive.  Did we make the world a better place?  Did we love instead of hate, give instead of receive, encourage rather than discourage?  Did we seek out our Creator and accept His offer of a relationship with Him that transcends even death?
While you’re alive, you make the choices.  When you die, the opportunity for choices disappears.  What choices are you making today, right now?  What choices should you be making today, right now?

A Small Thing

I have a small jar of wheat sitting on my desk.  The jar is only a couple of inches tall and about an inch and a half on each side.  There can’t be more than a couple of ounces of wheat inside.
The jar label says that it is my dad’s wheat.  I know where it came from.  Dad passed away in 1986 of a massive heart attack.  This wheat is part of that last harvest of grain from his farm.  Each of us children has one of these jars.  Our sister-in-law thankfully saved the wheat and gave us the jars a few years ago.
One of these falls, I’d like to plant just a few of the kernels.  I suspect that a good percentage of them would grow.  I have no clue what variety of wheat it is, but rather suspect that the science of wheat breeding has created varieties that surpass what is in the jar in the last 20 or so years.
Nevertheless, the wheat is a daily reminder of who I am and where I came from.  That knowledge helps me to understand where I’m going and why I’m going there.  And I know that I’m not alone in my journey from the past.  I have five siblings I love very much who have made the trip with me thus far, and even now are making the trip with me to the future.  That, somehow, is enormously comforting.

Why Things Happen

Today, I visited with an older lady in our church.  She offered to make me coffee if I’d stop by about 10am today, and I can’t turn down a cup of nectar from the coffee bean.  We had a pleasant chat, talking about this and that.  Before I knew it, I needed to go as I had an appointment in a few minutes.
On the way out, she asked if I knew anyone who could use an overcoat.  She said her husband had passed away several years ago, and his coat was just hanging in the closet not doing anyone any good.  It was a nice one, size 42.
I told her I would find a good home for the coat, then tell her what I did with it.  She thanked me and we parted company.  I didn’t think much about that incident until later in the day.
I wonder why she thought about giving away that coat over four years after her husband’s death.  And why did she see fit to give it to me?  And why at that time?  I know this isn’t an earth-shaking thing, but sometimes things happen in life that just can’t be explained by logic or our view of events that occurred or are occurring.  This was one of those things.
I will do my best to find someone in need who needs a size 42 coat.  And I will always remember being just a little puzzled at the turn of events that prompted my having it in the first place.

Part of the Team

Today has been a “not so good” day.  Although everyone has days like this, they still come when we’re least prepared, it seems.  Mondays are kind of a down day for me anyway, after the events of the weekend (I’m a minister), and it is kind of a one-two punch when the blues also make their appearance on a Monday.
What is it, I wonder, that makes us wish for the entire world to come to a stop while we sort out our problems and issues?  We know that won’t happen, but secretly long for some sympathy, some commiseration, some understanding.  Yet even our nearest and dearest don’t always come through…they’re dealing with issues, too.
Is it a self-centered thing?  Is it a natural part of being human?  Or is it ingrained into us by our culture and/or environment?  I certainly don’t have the expertise to answer those questions, and barely have the smarts to ask them.
Even when someone dies, only a comparative few stop.  Only a comparative few alter their schedules.  Only a comparative few take time to comfort, reflect, and think.  Most of the world goes on, oblivious to the reality of the death.
And it should be that way, really.  If the entire world stopped each time disaster or tragedy hit someone somewhere, it would never start up again, because tragedy and disaster are part of life.  On the other hand, if no one stopped—if no one paused—if no one reflected, we would be less than we were created to be.
It’s a balancing act sometimes.  To know what to do and when to do it sometimes are not as obvious as they at first may seem.  When you’re in doubt, don’t be part of the majority who go merrily on their way.  Be part of the team that supports, comforts, and consoles.

Where Are the Good Samaritans?

An email arrived in my box a couple of days ago.  It was from Diana, a friend and member of my church small group.  Among other things, she asks for prayers for a lady named Rheva, who had worked in the same office with Diana.  Rheva was fired last Friday as part of a general upheaval and restructuring of that office.  She also had lost her husband of many years to cancer just a couple of months ago.
Rheva has worked at that office for many years, and doesn’t have many skills, Diana says.  She has also been battling depression.  It seems that when it started raining in Rheva’s life, it just didn‘t quit.
Life is like that sometimes.  We manage to keep all of the balls in the air for awhile, but then they start dropping to the floor, and when they do, there seems to be no stopping.  We’re angry that we can’t keep afloat and we’re humiliated and feel guilty that we can’t keep things going.  We just want to crawl into a hole and let everything rush on by.
And those of us who are still juggling and still managing to keep things going don’t know what to do for the one we see who has failed.  We have enough to do just to keep ourselves going, and we don’t want to think too much about the one who is down for fear that it might be “catching”.  So we continue on, like the priest and Levite did with the man who had been robbed, and don’t look back.
It takes a special person to be a Good Samaritan.  It takes courage and backbone to stop and help.  It takes a mettle that I wish I had more of, because I too will “fall among thieves” one day.  And I’ll be wondering where the Good Samaritans are.