American Ingenuity

It’s snowing again. We’ve already had a couple of inches, and it looks from the radar image (isn’t the Internet wonderful!) that there’s more on the way. This time, though, we’re prepared.
We (the home) bought a blade to put on the Dixie Chopper mower we bought last year. It’s a stout blade, made of the finest iron available, and welded together by men and women in America (I think so, anyway) that know a good product when they see one.
We got the one with the manual lift on it. We could have gotten an electric lift, but didn’t see the need to spend another two hundred dollars on something we didn’t really need. I was wondering just how this manual lift would work, and found out yesterday when the mower was delivered, complete with blade attached.
The blade is naturally held in the “up” position by a couple of heavy springs. When the operator wants to blade something, he (or she) puts his foot on a pedal that sticks back from the blade and presses forward. That provides a direct link to the blade, overcoming the springs, and the blade does what blades are supposed to do. To raise the blade, just let off of the foot pressure.
American ingenuity is at work here, folks. Who else would of thought of good old-fashioned foot pressure to facilitate a job being done. That being said tongue in cheek, the mower and the blade are indeed hefty pieces of work, not at all like some of the cheap stuff I’ve had in the past made of tin and paint. This thing is built to lastl…sort of like my smaller mower. It too (a Snapper) is made in America and will probably outlast me by many years. It cost more than the cheap ones sold by Sears, Ace and others, but I’ll only ever have to buy this one.
Time to blade the drive.

I Can't Stand It

If you've read this in an email I sent earlier, I'm sorry. However, I thought this was good enough to put on the blog.


Our new resident, Rachel, transferred here at semester break. She's a freshman and attended a private Christian academy in the Newton area the first semester. When she came here, the officials at the school said that some of her credits might not transfer, and that they would check on it.
Not having heard anything in almost a month, I went to see Mr. Jiltman, the counselor and said, "What do I need to do in order to facilitate the transfer of credits from the private school?"
He immediately pointed me to the Registrar. I ask the registrar, "Ma'am, I'm Jay Plank with Maude Carpenter Children's Home. Rachel is a new transfer and resident of the home. She transferred here from a private school in the Newton area, but we've not heard whether or not her credits have transferred. What do I need to do in order to facilitate that decision?"
The nice registrar lady said, "(last name), (last name). I think I've tried to get that transcript. I don't have it"
She riffles around her desk and hauls out a scuzzy sheet of paper with Rachel's name on it. It's a request for records. "I've tried to FAX this to them twice, but someone there always picks up the phone before the FAX answers."
So I say, "Ma'am, is there anything I need to do in order to have them get you the records you need?"
"No, I'll just call them."
She picks up the phone, calls and talks to someone who says that she won't answer the phone when it rings and will let it go to the FAX.
The registrar then hangs up, FAX'es the request, and all is well.
I ask, "When should I check back to see if they sent the records or if there's anything I need to do to get them?"
"You can check back in a couple of days. I'm usually very good about transferring credits as soon as the information comes in."
I thanked her profusely and left. I didn't have a melt-down until I left the building, thankfully.

I guess to answer my question of what do I need to do to facilitate this, I guess I need to go visit the registrar and wait until she makes a phone call. These people are very good at what they do, when you can get 'em motivated to do it. They're friendly, helpful, and competent I'm just not sure why I have to make so many personal visits to the school to get something done. I can't stand it.

Learned Behavior

This is Saturday and we’re getting our Rachel fix. For those who are having thoughts of drugs and needles, you can rest easy. Rachel is our granddaughter, and we’re visiting our son and family for the day.
She’s really grown in the past month or so, and is quite animated. She’s vocal and sassy, and knows who is in charge in THIS household. She can sit up, eats solid (well, pureed) food, and seems to be developing quite nicely.
Nowadays, we just expect this to happen routinely. Babies are born, they grow normally, and they become adults. If there are problems, we have the technology to fix them and we can go on with life. It becomes the expectation that everything will be perfect and that things will be great.
But it isn’t always so. Sometimes there are problems that technology can’t fix. Sometimes babies are aborted, whether naturally or otherwise. Sometime, even when babies are normal, they’re born into families that aren’t, and the problems and issues of the family are transferred to the baby in a kind of continuation that should never happen.
Some things can’t be helped. Some babies develop birth defects. Some babies develop medical problems following birth that can’t be fixed.
But many things can be helped. Elective abortion, dysfunctional families, and access to adequate medical care are the products of the choices that adults make in life…choices that could have been made in another direction.
When are we going to start making good choices for our babies?

An Insidious Logic

I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s 5:15am and I’ve already showered, shaved, and well, whatever else goes along with that. I’ve made coffee and hear one of the girls in the shower as I start this (It can’t be Paige…has to be Rebecca).
Our niece who is battling an eating disorder is checking into a clinic in the St Louis area today. She’s expecting to stay 60 days on an inpatient, then later an outpatient basis. She’s been fighting this demon for several years now.
There are a lot of things in this world I don’t understand. One of them is anorexia/bulimia. This one just baffles me as being so against logic and reason. Oh yes, I know that it has it’s own logic and it’s own reason. But because it doesn’t fit my norm, I’m not comfortable with it. I can’t relate to it. I can’t even fathom how someone could think that way.
However, what I might think about this doesn’t matter a lot. What matters is that some how, some way she is given the tools (and uses them) to beat back the insidious logic of starvation by not eating and then purging what is eaten.
Some of you who are reading this know about this situation. Some don’t. Many of you are religious. Some aren’t. Whatever your “stripe”, keep Michele in your thoughts and prayers these next few weeks as she continues to battle this devil. You might want to follow her progress on her blog http://decorperpoena.blogspot.com/
Don’t ask why that particular name. I have no earthly clue, but somehow, I think Michele knows.

The Real Deal

For those who were becoming used to my writing every day or so, I purposely did not write for a couple of days. I certainly didn’t want to get you used to checking in every day for something new, even if that something new wasn’t important, had little meaning in life, and was a strain to write (chuckle).
Actually, some days I feel more like writing than not; others just the thought of trying to put something down on paper (figuratively speaking, of course) is almost stomach-turning. The last couple of days just haven’t been conducive to my writing.
I’ve been battling some kind of crud…sore throat, chills, some nausea, general aches and pains (more than the normal from arthritis). Today I feel pretty good except for a sore throat.
I’ve told Pat and others more than once during this time, however, that what I have pales in comparison to what someone like Dennis and Phyllis are going through right now. Dennis is an elder at our church with brain cancer. They’ve done the treatments, etc., but the prognosis doesn’t look really rosy right now.
Dennis has been strong and resilient, singing of the mercies of the Lord his God all during this time. He continues his work as a shepherd of the congregation, visiting, counseling, praying, and leading with the kind of servant leadership I think God expects from His people.
Sore throats can be the pits. Aches and pains are a hassle. Brain cancer, though, is the real deal and is a great separator of the sheep from the goats (to borrow a phrase). Dennis has shown himself a sheep in every good sense of the word. Now if I can just imitate Dennis as he imitates Christ….

Snow Wimps

The snow is over. Nothing, it seems, is open in Wichita. The churches, for the most part, have cancelled services today, including ours. I don’t know. It seems like people any more are being overly cautious when snow falls or there is a significant weather event. They seem to be very quick to cancel school, cancel work, cancel church, etc.
I know it seems like we older folks always hark back to the olden days, but I have to wonder whether we would have cancelled church 40 years ago because of a six inch snowfall with temperatures in the low 30’s and no wind. I hardly think so.
Some of the older folks wouldn’t venture out, but many would be there anyway because someone would come by to get them and see that they arrived safe and sound. They may have then taken them home for lunch and made an afternoon of fellowship out of it.
I was somewhat disappointed that we cancelled church today, even though we had our own services in the cottage, and the girls did very well with an “offering” from the Bible. There’s just something about meeting with others that makes Sundays feel complete and whole.
Out on the High Plains, folks don’t give up unless the wind is blowing 40 miles an hour, it’s 10 below, and the snow is drifting 3 feet or higher. And even then, some guys will get out their tractors or snow runners and plow through the drifts or cruise over them anyway. And there are many out in those parts that have to do that in order to care for livestock, have water to drink, or provide for some other necessity.
Thankfully, we don’t get this kind of snow often in Wichita. I shudder to think what might happen to our economic engine if, every time we had a few flakes (so to speak), we shut down everything until it blew over.

Beating the Band and Reality Checks

Well, as B.L., Ella, and some others of my relatives would say, “It’s snowing to beat the band!” I was never sure what that really meant, so I looked it up in the source and fount of all information: the Internet.
Michael Quinion, on his website, World Wide Words http://www.worldwidewords.org gives several possible explanations, most of which are Irish in origin, then says in summation, “I’m fairly sure that to beat the band originally meant that you sang or played or shouted louder even than an orchestra and so, by later extension, came to refer to anything superlative. Just for once, the common-sense explanation may be the correct one, and there’s no need to invoke Irish towns or Irish storytellers, let alone banshees.”
So, there you have it. In at least this man’s opinion, the phrase has no spectacular beginnings; rather it just means what it means. How novel that idea is!
We like to attach long, exciting explanations to just about anything in order to gussy things up a bit, and are very keen, it seems, on passing along urban legends via email and in face-to-face gossip. Everything from Bob Keeshan (Captain Kangaroo of CBS Television fame in the 50’s and 60’s) to plastic containers (supposedly containing poisons that are released when they are microwaved) is the subject of these urban legends, which seem to continue to have a life of their own even though they’ve been proven false time after time.
When a person’s fantasy of life becomes more realistic and exciting than the reality, that person needs a reality check in the worst way and has issues beyond the norm. Real life is, when properly experienced, so much more than the artificiality of fantasy that there should be no comparison. Try it sometime.

Vicious Circle

I’m not sure why I feel more like writing this week. Perhaps it’s an attempt to outwit the winter blahs. Maybe I’m doing it because I feel “closed in” by the bad weather, ice and another approaching snow storm. Or it could be that I feel very inspired this week…nah.
I wonder why we have to have reasons for the things we do. It seems that I always try to attach some kind of reasoning to my actions (or inactions). That seems to give them validity and meaning of some kind that doesn’t seem to be there those few times when I don’t bother to go through the rationalizing process.
Aahhh, there it is. Rationalizing. “To explain one’s behavior plausibly without recognizing true motives.” Could it possibly be that I am rationalizing when I try to explain in my mind why I am doing or not doing something? Could it be that I’m covering up some kind of behavior that isn’t good for me by telling myself some cockeyed explanation of why I need to do it or avoid doing it? Am I trying to cover up my true motives by engaging in the justification process? Would I be doing myself a favor by not rationalizing and justifying everything? Maybe if I gradually quit....
I think my head’s beginning to hurt. Because, you see, I’m doing it again. I’m trying to justify why I have to justify everything. I'm rationalizing my habit of rationalizing! AAARRRRGGGG!!!

"And So It Goes"

The ice has hung on here in these parts. Yesterday, the sun was behind clouds most of the day, and not much melting occurred. This is kind of unusual for this part of Kansas. Normally, the snow or ice comes, then melts relatively quickly.
Out in Western Kansas and on the Great Plains, the snow and ice can linger for weeks at a time, gradually becoming dirty and trod down. It gets a little old to have to drive on ice and navigate slick sidewalks for that long.
Then there was the year out in Goodland, where we lived for a time, when the water pipes that were buried in the ground up to four or more feet froze. We were told to keep our water running, and that the thaw wouldn’t come anytime soon.
Of course, when the snows melted that winter, the water didn’t soak into the frozen ground, but ran off instead. Out in those parts of the country, that’s like watching gold slip from your fingers into the abyss.
I don’t know if they will suffer the same fate this year as in that year. There’s been a lot of wild weather out in those parts already, and winter isn’t over yet. Thankfully, a lot of that weather has also brought much-needed water and a cover to protect against the cold.
There appears, in this creation, to be good even in things that at first appear to be bad. Snow and ice cause havoc in our society, but bring much-needed water and insulation to the landscape. Cold is hard on people and animals that have to bear it, but brings relief from insects, weeds, and other pests. To borrow a phrase from Linda Ellerbee, “And so it goes.”

I Know the Plans I Have For You

I talked in the last blog about the movie A League of Their Own. I think there may be another lesson in that movie from the rivalry between the sisters. Dottie (Geena Davis) and Kit (Lori Petty) are a big sister-kid sister duo who make it into the women’s league together. Due to continuing rivalry (mostly in Kit’s head), Kit switches to another team.
The inevitable showdown comes in the World Series when Dottie’s team and Kit’s team are in that series together. The action scenes in that part of the movie are almost a side show to what I see as the real emotions that come through when Dottie sees Kit in her dugout, angry, pouting, self-pitying, and crying, yet determined as she copes with the emotions of battling head to head with an older sister that she has always looked up to, yet is jealous of because she believes Dottie is so much better and has had the better breaks in life.
I hear in that scene series an unspoken line Dottie might have said to Kit, “How badly do you want it? How badly do you want to succeed? Are you willing to put aside all of the jealousy and anger and pouting and self-pity and work your heart out to attain the goal?”
Now, friend, look at yourself. Look at your lot in life and then take note of the excuses you use to justify why you are where you are instead of where you want to be. Do you shift the blame for your misfortune to other people or external events? Are you still trying to convince someone (or yourself) that what has happened to you isn’t fair? Are you envious of those who have seemed to have overcome adversity and have risen to the top?
Be honest, now. And be grateful that God has given you yet another chance to allow Him to mold you into what He wants for you. “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me. When you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, declares the Lord.” Jeremiah 29:11-14a

It's Supposed to Be Hard

“It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great." – Manager Jimmy Dugan (Tom Hanks) talking to catcher Dottie Hinsen (Geena Davis) about quitting the women’s baseball league in the movie “A League of Their Own”.
One of the girls we currently have here at the home will sometimes, in defense of her not completing a project, say “It’s too hard!” I’ve used various comebacks in the past, but I may try to come back in the future with, “It’s supposed to be hard.” What I’ve been saying hasn’t worked too well, and it may be time to change.
On a larger scale, we tend to look at some of the things that life throws to us as being “too hard” for us to do. When the job is too hard, we’ll quit and find an easier one. When the marriage becomes too hard, we’ll quit and find some other relationship. When school becomes too hard, we’ll just quit and do something else.
I think in many respects, life is supposed to be hard. There’s a lot of truth in Jimmy Dugan’s words, and I fear that we’ve lost sight of the truth that doing something that is hard to do is what makes it great.

Growing Pains

It’s cold here today, and as I sit in my office, I hear one of the girls down hall (none have gotten up and around yet) having a rather nasty cough. It’s one of those coughs that you just know hurts when it comes on. I’m hoping that we can get through this winter without a lot of infection and passing around of bugs, but in a setting like this, even with the Lysol and admonitions to wash hands, things still get around.
It’s kind of that way with attitudes as well. It seems that attitudes are contagious. When someone is in a funk, everyone tends to be a little on guard. If someone has an “I don’t care” attitude, that too seems to get around.
It’s especially noticeable when a new girl moves into the home. The first thing she does, whether she or anyone else notices or not, is measures the general attitudes of everyone including cottage parents. She then tailors her actions and responses to what she sees and finds in the others.
Maintaining a positive attitude is hard in a setting like this, for staff and residents alike. It’s so easy to get caught up in negativity or just rotten attitudes in general. It’s a constant battle for me to stay on top of my attitudes, as well as encourage the girls and others to stay on top of theirs. But the payoffs are tremendous when it all works together to create an environment where everyone, staff and residents, can grow and develop.

Communication

We have treatment team meeting in about 45 minutes. That’s where staff and therapists meet weekly to discuss the girls and their progress (or lack thereof) and act on any pass requests or program modifications.
We try to hold the meeting to an hour, but that’s very difficult to do. That’s about 7 minutes per girl, and some of them just need more discussion time than what is allowed. I know people have things to do, but….
However, it’s good that we get together for even the length of time that we do. Good communication is vital to the success of this program. I have been very impressed by the difficulties we’ve encountered in our attempts to foster good communication. We try hard in this Christian environment to do the right thing. I shudder to think what would happen to communication here if the environment would be self-serving rather than others-serving.

Is This Heaven??

It was wonderful. My whole day was made this evening. Oh, you don’t know, do you. OK. Tonight, our church hosted a choir from a university in Texas, which was affiliated with our denomination. They sang all a cappella and had a really nice program. But the really cool part of it was when they invited any who wanted to do so to join them in the singing of their final song, “The Lord Bless You and Keep You” with the 7-fold Amen.
I didn’t go to the stage as did some of the others in the group who were better singers than I. But I did sing from my seat, just a few rows from the front. I know the bass line well, having sung it for several years in a quartet.
There’s something magical about voices that blend in song, especially a cappella singing, that just captivates me. I like to sing anyway, and although my voice is not polished, I know notes and can pick up tunes very well. I also do a good job singing on key.
Tonight, however, having the privilege of singing with 50 voices much younger and better than my own, singing a song that stirs me deep within, was just almost too much. All too quickly, it was over. But the memory of that will probably hang with me for a lifetime.
If you don’t understand my joy, you probably don’t sing, and don’t appreciate it as much as I do. That’s OK. We all are different and enjoy different things. But for me, tonight was just about as good as it gets.

Let Freedom Ring

Randy, our director, was talking with the girls last night about times when it seems like "it'll never end." The context was regarding one girl who wants to go back home to live, but wants to do it now instead of waiting and wading through the hoops. We think she's about ready to go home, and will probably go in just a few weeks, but we have things that need to happen in order to make that happen.

I was thinking as he was talking about that, that we too have times in our lives when we think it "will never end." Whether it's kids growing up, interminable work, selling a house, getting ahead financially, or whatever it is, we at times find ourselves slogging through the pits of life in what seems to be an existence with no end in sight and no finish line in view.

I can't imagine what Paul must have been thinking as he sat in dungeon after dungeon, sometimes for years at a time, sometimes without even having seen a judge, all because of the Good News that God loves us.

I'm reminded of the song "Let Freedom Ring" written, I believe by Bill and Gloria Gaither. I repeat the lyrics below and commend them to you.

Deep within, the heart has always known that there was freedom,
Somehow breathed into the very soul alive.
The prisoner, the powerless, the saved have always known it;
There's something that keeps reaching for the sky.

Even life begins because a baby fights for freedom,
And songs we love to sing have freedom's theme.
Some have walked through fire and flood to find a place of freedom,
And some faced hell itself for freedom's dream.

Let freedom ring wherever minds know what it means to be in chains
Let freedom ring wherever hearts know pain,
Let freedom echo through the lonely streets where prisons have no key
We can be free and we can sing --- let freedom ring,

God built freedom into every fiber of creation,
And He meant for us to all be free and whole.
When my Lord bought freedom with the blood of His redemption,
His cross stamped pardon on my very soul.

I'll sing it out with every breath, I'll let the whole world hear it,
This hallelujah anthem of the free.
That iron bars and heavy chains can never hold us captive,
The Son has made us free and free indeed.

Let freedom ring down through the ages from a hill called Calvary,
Let freedom ring wherever hearts know pain.
Let freedom echo through the lonely streets where prisons have no key,
You can be free and you can sing let freedom ring.
Let freedom echo through the lonely streets where prisons have no key,
You can be free and you can sing let freedom ring,
You can be free and you can sing --- let freedom ring --- let freedom ring.

It’s always good to have some time off and away from things. The past week or two has been that time for many of us. I realize that some of us got a long weekend, and that was about it; many others had several days off or took some vacation time during this time of year in order to stretch out the time off.
But now it’s time to get back to the routine of daily living. Get up, shower, shave, go to work, come home, etc. You know the drill. We easily become bored with the same-old same-old and long for the weekends or the three-day holiday break. We then work harder on those weekends catching up with laundry, housework, or recreation than we do in the middle of the week.
I guess one overriding question for those of us who have routine jobs, routine days, and routine weeks is, “Where is God in all of this?” Is He a silent partner, tailing along behind you as you go through your week? Is He there at all? Or have you put God up front and are following His lead, even during the routine and mundane?
One of my relatives has said that he doesn’t believe that God is concerned about the small things of his life. I have always begged to differ with him, but until now haven’t had anything much to back up my “differing”. I saw in a recent article (I believe in Christianity Today) that Jesus himself told us to pray for our daily food. If God expects us to pray for our daily calories and vitamins, why would He not want us to pray for other things that seem to us to be small, ordinary, and routine things?
Yes, I know that for some, daily food was (and is) a big deal. Many didn’t have it. Certainly Jesus knew that, and certainly he also knew that for others, food was (and would be) the least of their worries. Yet he tells us nonetheless to pray for our food and daily provision.
I think God wants to be involved even in our mundane and routine. We would do well to let Him in. Maybe if we did, the routine would suddenly not be so routine any more.

The New

Well, it’s the new year. Officially, we’re only into the year a little over an hour, and the earth hasn’t completed it’s rotation to the point that it’s the new year the world over. But here it is nevertheless.
This is many times the place where I would reflect on the year past, or I would talk about hope for the year to come. I’ll spare you those things this time and just say that for all of the fuss we make about times and seasons, there’s not really much different about today than yesterday. Although we no longer have Saddam Hussein to deal with, we have other, more pressing issues that carried right over to this year from the last…hanging on and quickly becoming the baggage of the new, just as they were the baggage of the old.
The past is gone; the future is not yet here. The present moment is all we really have. Any hope we might have has to be hinged not in a future that may or may not be there, but rather on something immovable…set…permanent…concrete…(you fill in your own adjective). The only thing I know that is like that is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob that we see in the Holy Bible. Nothing else compares with the God of the Bible. Nothing else makes the claim to be unchanging and permanent. Nothing else claims to be eternal, both past and future. Nothing else comes even close.