A Good Week

It’s been an interesting week, to say the least.  It started with my wife losing her job, had our anniversary in it (yesterday), and is culminating with a long Independence Day weekend where many people will receive both Monday and Tuesday off work.  It is also hot, or rather is supposed to be hot today and through the weekend.  Today, they say, the thermometer may reach the century mark (100 degrees for those who aren’t familiar with the play on words).
There are some good things that are happening this week.  It’s nice to have the wife at home and becoming more and more like the woman I married.  It’s nice to have friends who finance the evening out for our anniversary.  And it’s good to spend time in the Good Book and in prayer.
We also are preparing for the arrival of a grand (son/daughter) any day and the reunion trip to Hannibal.  We’ve decided to go to Hannibal, even though there is no work right now.  We’ve planned for it and can’t see missing the family this year.
This blog may well have news of a move and new work for either or both of us in the coming days and weeks.  As I said in a prior blog, “the adventure continues”.  It certainly is and I want to be part of it.

The Adventure Continues...

Most of you already know that the past couple of days have been anything but routine at our house.  My wife was asked to resign from her management position yesterday afternoon.  She’s been having trouble at work for the last few months, and over the weekend it got intolerable, so they asked for her resignation.  I went out and helped her cart her personal things back home late in the afternoon.
We have been looking for other work for awhile, but this has heightened the tension of that endeavor.  We’ve been scouring the want ads, checking with friends, networking with associates, and doing those things that people do in situations like this.
We also have been praying…a lot…and have a sense of calmness about this that we haven’t felt before.  We trust that our Maker has a place for us and a work to do, and we have said repeatedly for Him to show us what it is and guide us there.
So, we’ll see where this goes.  We’ve been in Topeka for a year and a half, and it’s been a great thing for the both of us.  We may stay or we may go.  I don’t know at this point.  But I’ll include you in this as much as I can.
The adventure continues….

The Downtowner

Although I heard of it long ago, today we ate at the Downtowner in (where else) downtown Topeka.  Just a couple of hundred feet east of Sixth and Kansas, the Downtowner has been a fixture for years.  If you’re tired of being handed a pager that goes off when your table is ready, or wait people who are dealing with the pains of puberty, and want to find that long-ago ambience, food, price and service, this is the place.
Pat and I each had a hamburger deluxe.  I had a side of cole slaw and a piece of sour cream raisin pie, and we both had iced tea.  The total bill, including tax, was $9.89.  The menu said that a fried chicken dinner, meat loaf dinner, or roast beef dinner could be had for $4.50.  That included veggie, potato, and salad.  Tea and coffee were 60 cents.  My pie was $1.50 and was better than anything I’ve had that cost twice that much at a more popular joint.
The hamburgers, seared on a hot grill and injected with just the right amount of grease, were steamy and good.  The toasted buns had soaked up just enough grill grease to be crispy and delicious.  The fries were great, the slaw was OK, and the pie was pretty good, with crispy crust even underneath.
If you’re happy with Tiffany, Brianna, and Caleb waiting on you, go ahead and patronize the high-class joints.  But if you want the quiet competence of a Marge, Dorothy, or Hazel cooking and waiting tables, the Downtowner is the place to go.

A Good Lesson

I was following a kind of fancy pickup home just a few minutes ago.  The driving habits of this particular driver were different from many who drive such fancy wheels.  He accelerated reasonably from the stop light.  He drove in the right hand lane.  He drove the speed limit or less.  I was impressed.
Then I saw a bumper sticker on his rear bumper.  It said, “Live so the preacher won’t have to lie at your funeral.”
Unlike many with the fish symbols on their cars or some other kind of overtly religious bumper stickers…who race to beat the red lights and swerve in front of others, this man seemed to be living the life that was alluded to by his bumper sticker.
I followed him for a couple of miles, through two or three turns and stops.  I actually enjoyed following him, and even more, I thought about that sticker.
I’ve preached a few funerals.  No more than I’ve preached, it was hard sometimes to do it without deceiving people into thinking the deceased was somehow more righteous than he/she was.  Thanks, friend, for the lesson this morning.

A Lesson From the Weather

The weather is still, even with the super-doppler gizmos and the latest wham-slam graphics on the TV, a crap shoot.  Today was supposed to be rainy as of yesterday, but just cloudy as of three hours ago.  It’s raining right now.
Yesterday, we were supposed to have had inches and inches of rain…we got a tenth of an inch.
We think we’re so smart.  We think we can look ahead twelve hours or so and tell everyone what Mother Nature has up her sleeve.  But we can’t even see three hours ahead sometimes, let alone three days.
There’s a lesson there (somehow, you just knew that I was going to get to that).  We don’t have the foggiest notion of what life holds for us thirty minutes from now, let alone 30 days or years from now.  The thing is, regardless of what we think lies on the other side of death’s veil, we need to be ready to leave this existence at any time.  And most of us aren’t even close to being ready because we don’t like to think about it.
And we think we’re so smart.

One of Those Days

Today is one of those days that, as I look ahead, I don’t see anything in the day other than a dental appointment at 9:45 this morning.  The great thing about days like this is that they soon fill up, it seems, with things that I hadn’t planned on and had no idea I would be doing or seeing.  That is one of the exciting things about this work.
No plans for the day doesn’t mean “nothing to do” in this vocation.  Somehow, things seem to work in to fill the available time space and in many ways I’m more productive on days like this than I am when there is a tight schedule.  I don’t know what it is, but I seem to glide more smoothly from task to task when there’s not the press of the clock to be somewhere or do something by a certain hour.  (I don’t know if I’ve ever glided smoothly in anything, but that term seemed to fit in the last sentence.)
No, the dentist won’t be a problem.  It’ll be a first-time exam and a cleaning.  So, although it will probably take most of an hour, it shouldn’t be a visit that evokes visions of swollen jaws or packing in place of a tooth.  Been there, done that.  I’ve been very careful to try to avoid that in the future by daily brushing and flossing.  I don’t always get to the flossing part each day, but I’m a lot better at it than I used to be years ago.  And my teeth are in much better shape, too.  Yeah, I know, it sounds “icky”, but sometimes ick is necessary and preferable to dentures.

The Day

Well, today is Father’s Day.  And you who know me know that I don’t do a lot of celebrating for any holiday, and this one is no exception.  Yes, it’s nice to have such a day set aside for us dads, but I prefer my rut, thank you.
The day started as any other.  Church was just like any other, except for the Fathers Day sermon (which was powerful, by the way).  We went out to eat at Perkins, believe it or not, but because the line was out the door, we ended up going across the street to a nice steak place and were seated and served right away.  But even the restaurant was plan B because I had intended to put a roast in the oven and just eat at home.
Afternoon consisted of sitting on the back patio, napping, working with the computer, reading some, and baking a Marie Callendar dutch apple pie.  The pie was my treat for this day…I love those pies.
Now, I’m at the PC again, telling you about the routine-ness of my day and enjoying every moment of it.  It’s good to kick back, although I’ve done nothing really special today, nor has my family done anything special for me.  Oh, it’s fine.  I don’t mind.  Yes, it would have been nice if the number one son had come to services this morning, but I know he has a life and have no problem with that.
Besides, we’ll be grandparents soon.  That’ll be worth the wait.

Making Lemonade

It’s already windy today.  The wind promises to bring with it the heat and summer-y feeling that comes on a day like this.  Any walking, errands or other things that need to be done outside the confines of the four walls I probably should do this morning.  However, if I’m normal I’ll not get to them, saving them instead for later on in the afternoon when traffic becomes heavy and the heat and wind are truly oppressive.
I see that Western Kansas hit the century mark yesterday.  They’ll probably do it again today.  The wind probably will blow there, too.  And although they also complain at times about the weather, it’s not as pervasive as it is in Eastern Kansas.
I think those in rural areas (no, I don’t consider someone who lives in Shawnee County to be a rural resident regardless of where he lives in the county…contrary to what they may themselves think) have a certain “what will be, will be” attitude and a kind of a “we’ll take this along with all the rest and make lemonade out of it” attitude that others could only dream about and envy.
The ten percent of the population in Kansas that lives west of I-135 can teach us a thing or two about life and living.  It’s too bad we here in the East never get to know any of them very well.

A Lesson From the Patio

I was out back on the patio again this morning and was hearing that same robin who I talked about a few days ago.  He’s the noisy one…the one who wakes everyone and makes much more noise than his diminutive frame would seemingly allow.
He was competing with the air conditioners down below on the back drive.  There are six of them out there, and sometimes they make a lot of racket.  I got to thinking (now, that’s dangerous) that we are in some respects like either the robin or the air conditioner.
The robin was loud and boisterous, but his song seemed happy and fit into the context of the environment…trees, creek, park.  He let everyone within hundreds of feet know he was there and was not about to pass quietly into the night.
The air conditioners also were loud and boisterous, but they were just noise.  They, too, let themselves be heard, telling all who were around that they were there and on duty.  But they didn’t fit in with the rest of the environment, and were a nuisance.
Are we like the robin…boisterous, yet happy and pleasant, or are we more like the air conditioners…loud noise and just blowing a lot of hot air?

Whoaa!!

Today has been another great spring day out doors.  The temperature is in the mid 80’s, and the breeze is gentle.  The sky is a deep blue and the sun is plentiful.  All things seem to be enjoying the out doors, including Susie, who spent some time this morning just laying in the sun in the front yard.
Gage Park is going great today, too.  I stopped there following a Bible study at a home not far away.  I walked around the perimeter of the Gage Park railroad this time instead of just ambling about the park.  It’s about a 20 minute walk, and took me over the dam of one of the ponds.
On the dry side of the dam they have left the native wild flowers to grow.  When going by that place on the street, which is just a few feet away, it seems like a weedy growth.  But when looking at it from the perspective of the top of the dam, and at the slower pace of the walk, the beauty of at least a dozen different plants in full bloom was evident.
Slowing down often brings out the best in whatever it is we’re observing or doing.  I wonder why we don’t do that more often.

Noisy Robins

Noisy robins.  Smelly automobile exhaust.  Cool air.  Those were some of the things I observed on the back patio this morning as I drank my coffee and prayed.
There’s been a robin in the neighborhood who’s decibel level is much higher recently than his size would indicate.  The neighbor’s boyfriend fired up his older car after spending the night with her…the exhaust wafted up to the patio.  And it was cool this morning for a pleasant change.  God is good all the time, but He must have sensed that it was becoming a little too warm too quickly, and provided this one day, anyway, as a sort of respite for His creation.
But I also thought of other things not necessarily so noticeable this morning.  Uncertainty.  The fragility of faith.  The love of a merciful Creator.
Some of you know that Pat’s work at Aldersgate is in jeopardy due to the failure of the home to pass the state inspections.  Over the weekend, other things happened to exacerbate the issues.  We truly do not know if she will have a job at the close of this day.  That makes our faith appear at times to be rather fragile.  We don’t even know what is today, let alone what the future holds.  My prayer this morning was “We believe.  Help our unbelief.”  I think maybe for the first time, I truly understand what the disciples were saying when they said that to the Master.  But we quickly look at all God has provided, and express faith that He will continue to provide.  His faithfulness endures to all generations and is timeless, faultless, and perfect.
We rest on the unchanging and unending faithfulness of God.  What better anchor could we possibly have?    

Thursday Musings

It’s a warm, humid day this morning already in Topeka.  It’s Thursday, which means I don’t do quite as much planned stuff as normal.  So I’m doing some “unplanned” things.
Let’s see.  I’ve already cleaned up the kitchen, mopped the kitchen floor (on my hands and knees, with a wet mop rag), started a load of wash (the sheets), flipped over the mattress (we gotta get a new one some day), and sorted the other laundry for doing before we leave for the day Saturday.
I’m planning to go to Gardner in a couple of hours and visit our son, who takes his lunch at 1pm.  No big deal…just get out of town and see some country besides checking in with him.  He’s working three jobs this summer to pay off some bills.  Besides his bank day job, he’s delivering pizza and umpiring softball games.  He’s a busy boy and I just want to encourage him, since one of the bills he owes is to us.
Who knows what the rest of the day holds.  It’s always an adventure in a position such as mine.  However, that adventure can be good or bad, an upper or a downer.  It’s not dull and boring, though.
I trust the wife will have a good day today.  I just called her to tell her that our checking account would survive until payday (tomorrow) and that I was considering the trip to Gardner.  She seemed to be OK, but I know it’s tough there right now.  I wish there was something more I could do.  I feel rather helpless….

One Man's Complaint

Buying decent peaches, pears, bananas, tomatoes, and other produce at the local grocery store is an exercise in futility for anyone who has ever reveled in having one’s own garden or fruit trees. Produce managers and vendors haven’t a clue that if they would deliver produce that is tasty, they might just sell more of it than the cardboard and rubber that substitute for reality in the produce section of today’s store.
Peaches should have “give” to them when gently squeezed. So should pears. Tomatoes that bounce on the floor shouldn’t be allowed to be displayed. Bananas that are any shade of green should be banned. Cantaloupe that don’t smell “melon-y” shouldn’t be part of the goods for sale.
All of the stuff one sees looks good, but the taste isn’t there…because it isn’t ripe or the tenderness has been bred out of it so it would withstand the rough handling all the way from Chile. And people who don’t know better buy that stuff and think they’re getting something good.
Some of the farmer’s markets aren’t much better. Some of those folks know they can foist shoddy produce off onto customers who don’t know any better than the crap they otherwise get in the super market.
What happened to watermelon with taste? What happened to tomatoes that were to die for? What, for heaven’s sake, happened to corn on the cob that you could eat raw?
If there was one perfect fruit in the Garden of Eden, it had to be peaches. Ripe off of the tree, they are to die for. (They had to have been what the snake tempted Eve with.) They make the best jam and jelly the world has ever known. If you do partake of such a thing as a self-picked ripe peach, be sure you’re wearing something you don’t mind getting dirty, because the juice will run off your chin, you’ll go back for more, and you will be sticky all over until you wash it off. Try THAT with a Dillons peach.

Decisions

I’m compiling pictures to put into a slide show (digital, of course) for our annual family reunion in July. I have a good scanner and software, and the photos often come out better after the enhancing than they were in the original photo. That’s because many of the originals are 20 or 30 years old and are starting to fade.
The problem is that there are so many, and there are many from the other siblings as well. I’m not sure what to put in and what to leave out. Who can resist the photo that tags along with this blog? Now, just how many photos just like this (well, maybe they have their clothes on) can I leave out?
I may put together two or three shows and let people see them or not, as they wish. Or, I may just grit my teeth and cut out the ones that I don’t think are quite this cute. Decisions, decisions….

Can I Believe It?

I am well in to the day (Saturday) and feel as if I’ve accomplished little.  Yes, I’ve done my daily Bible listening.  Yes, I’ve had lunch.  Yes, I’ve read the paper and done a load of laundry.  Yes, I’ve prepared by Sunday School class for tomorrow.  But for some reason, I feel sort of “out of sorts”, if you know what I mean.
There are things that aren’t settled in my mind…things that have been there for some time, and I’m not able to deal with them just now.  I either don’t have the information I need, it isn’t time to do anything about it yet, or some other reason beyond my control keeps me and these issues up in the air and unsettled.
It’s not a good feeling.  I am someone who likes to settle things…to fix things…to get things off of the table and off of my plate.  And I’m not sure what to do, because much of what is causing the unease is not solvable, or at least not solvable in the near future.
So I wait, and I worry.  About things that I probably shouldn’t wait and worry over.  “Tomorrow is another day,” they say.  I just wish I could believe that.

Thank You, Rossini

When in the pickup going somewhere, I usually am tuned to a public radio station.  In this area, it’s KPR from the Kansas University campus.  I can also receive Radio Kansas out of Hutchinson, as they have a transmitter in the Manhattan area.  Public radio is so much better than the drivel of 100 commercial stations all vying for my ear.  Does that mean I’m getting old?
I was coming back from a “pastoral” visit today and was tuned to KPR.  They started the Overture to William Tell by Rossini.  As I listened, I saw that I would arrive home before it was over, so I pulled into a parking lot in a public park, under some shade, and listened to the rest of the overture.
I know that much guffawing, many jokes, and a lot of fun has been poked at the overture, as it is the basis for a lot of the old cartoon background music, and was the theme song of the old series, “The Lone Ranger.”  But as I listened to it…all of it…I sort of came to a different point of view.
Yes, I recall the cartoons and the TV shows (I’m not old enough for a lot of radio).  I know the Ranger was an extraordinary shot, always shooting the gun out of the bad guy’s hand, but never wounding him.  I know that he always managed to rescue Tonto as well as the people in distress (often children), and that he never wanted thanks for his work.
But I was also drawn back in my mind to a simpler time both in my life and in the life of our society; when it seems right was right and wrong was wrong; when decency and morality meant something other than as fodder for ridicule; when heroes were indeed heroes, worthy of emulation; when funny was funny, when entertainment was just that, and when times were more innocent.
I’m grateful to Rossini for his composition.