The Holidays

I’ve sat down to write several times these last couple of days, but it just hasn’t come out. I’ve wanted to write about the holidays and of the events of the days and my feelings about them, but it just hasn’t been able to come out. I’ve puzzled over why I’m not able to put into words what is inside, since I’ve not had this problem to a great extent before now.
We attended evening church today. Normally, we have small group, but that isn’t meeting over the holidays, so we went to the evening services. It’s a small gathering, and there weren’t over about 25 people there. We sang, prayed, and heard a lesson from Nehemiah about worship. These services hark back to the older style of worship, as we sing from older song books, sing the old songs, and have a more traditional service than we usually have on Sunday morning.
I don’t know why, but as I sat there this evening listening to Jerry talk about Nehemiah and worship, I decided that the reason why I was having so much trouble writing (yes, I was listening to the sermon, too) about the holidays was that I always started writing about the wrong thing.
I’d start writing about what we did, what we ate, or where we went, but that always fell flat after just a sentence or two. What I need to write about is the reason we had such a good time this holiday season…family.
It was family that made the holidays what they were (and are). What we did, where we went, and what we ate are a small part of that, but it’s who we were with that really made it something special. Without family, our holidays are nothing more than just another day to scratch off on the calendar in a seeming endless parade of days and nights.
I’ve been there and done that. Long years ago, I had a job that required me to work some holidays. Some years I actually volunteered to work those days just so I wouldn’t have to face the holiday alone. It was just another day for me…just like any other. It was that way not because I had to work, but because there was no family around and no way to be with family.
Our Kansas family has 18 to 20 members, depending on who is counted and who is not. If everyone (including adopted sons, girl friends and boy friends, other hangers-on, etc.) is counted, I think there are 20. Each one is special. Each one is valued. Each one is unique. Each one is loved. And each one helped make the holidays special for the others.

Peace and Quiet

I am taken by the change in the environment of this house today compared with yesterday. Oh, I know that when 17 or 18 people invade a home that one can't expect anything approaching peace and quiet. And it wasn't at all peaceful and quiet yesterday. We had a good time being together.
Today, however, it's just me. Late this morning, I was puttering around the house. No TV, no radio, nothing but just me. The house seemed so...well, empty.
That's a good thing, I think. To feel an emptiness when loved ones are not around is a good thing. Peace and quiet is fine at times, but we long for companionship, company, and being with others. I'm glad to have the quiet time, but I'm even more pleased that I enjoy the company of my family and friends.

Today

Today is Christmas Day. It was declared to be a Federal holiday in 1870 by President Grant. However, it has been celebrated for hundreds of years prior, and has its true origins in rather murky areas of history. The story of the Christmas holiday and of Christmas day is cloaked in legend, story-telling, fact, history, and the inevitable twisting of that fact and history to meet some end.
No matter. The day is what we make of it in the here and now. Never mind whether or not our nation was founded on Christian principles. No matter whether or not the holiday was originally a festival day in some pagan sense. Not important is whether or not the Catholics (or Lutherans or Orthodox or whoever) thought the day was to be observed.
What is important is the here and now, and what we make of the day today...this year. You may choose to not celebrate the day. You may or may not be a believer or follower of Jesus and come to this conclusion. That's OK. You may have no connection with Jesus or any religion, yet you may wish to celebrate the day in all the secular fullness that can be had. That's OK, too.
That's all OK with me because, you see, what I am concerned with is how I celebrate the day (or not). It pleases me when others think as I do and celebrate it as I do, but why should I get bent out of shape if someone decides that the birth of Jesus should not be celebrated in this way? Why should I be concerned if someone should decide to make this a purely secular day for themselves?
The answer is, I shouldn't. My concern, rather, should be as it should be each day of the year. Am I living my life so that others know that I am a follower of Jesus? Am I living in such a way that Jesus is made known to others and I can be someone who can tell others who wish to know the good news of God Incarnate?
We who are Christians tend to get bogged down in the relatively inconsequential and forget what our responsibility is to those who do not know the story of God and how immensely He loves humanity. Of course, it's easier to rail against the secularization of Christmas for a month or so at the end of the year than it is to display the love of Jesus every day of the year.
Yes, Christmas is what we make it, here and now and in every here and now to come. The story of God as a baby born without human father in a barn in a nondescript rural area of a small country in the Middle East is at once remarkable, unbelievable, faith-building, challenging, and breath-taking. Take the time this year to read or hear it again, or perhaps hear it for the first time. Let it enter into your consciousness and exercise your simple faith.

Boring??

Some gems from scientific discoveries of 2008, courtesy of Discover magazine.
People have the ability to recognize themselves in mirrors. So do great apes, bottlenose dolphins, and Asian elephants. However, until this year, no non-mammals have passed the recognition test. The European magpie now is on the list of animals that can recognize themselves in the mirror and react appropriately to that recognition.
A small tribe of hunter-gatherers in the Amazon rain forest were discovered to have no words in their vocabulary to express numerical concepts as "one", "two", or "many". These people evidently don't count and don't have words for numbers.
Swiss scientists sent a pair of photons along fiber-optic cables, in opposite directions from each other. When they measured one photon upon its arrival at its destination, the other photon changed instantaneously, even though it was 11 miles away. This linkage of matter is called quantum entanglement, and is a baffling reality of the quantum world.
A team of European scientists has built the worlds' smallest transistor. It contained about 10 atoms and was one atom in thickness. It's made of a material called graphene, a carbon nanomaterial only one atom thick.
Dutch researchers have found compounds in human saliva that hasten healing. Thise simple proteins are called histatins. They are well-known compounds, but just this year they have been found to cause cells from the skin's surface to close over a wound.
Physicists have created a motion picture of a single atom. They used a laser light that flashed for one attosecond (one quintillionth of a second) to capture the image. By the way, an electron orbits a hydrogen atom in about 150 attoseconds.
A ckBot is an aggregation of 15 blocks, which make up a robot. It is a machine that can propel itself. But it can also do something else. If the robot is kicked and the blocks are knocked apart and scattered over the floor, they flip over and about, wriggle toward each other, and latch themselves back together and reassemble themselves. See video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JG5GrAtalE
These are just a few of the marvelous, the weird, and the surprising things that scientists and others have found, found out about, or created this year. And you thought it was a rather boring 12 months!

We Won't Like It

In my earlier blog, I talked of my belief that God will hold us as a nation accountable for how we treat the down and out, the widow and child. Don't, however, think for a moment that I have abdicated individual responsibility in these areas and given all to the government. On the contrary, even though government can provide many services and beneficial programs for those who have need, it is the individual who truly must step up and be the front line, so to speak, in this area.
Whether that person helps someone in his family, volunteers at a school, donates time and effort to an after-school program, mentors a child, or provides a family's basic needs, it is the individual working both alone and collectively with others that will truly make the difference.
Yes. I believe with all my heart that someone, somewhere in government will have to answer to God Almighty for how they have treated the widows of veterans. I believe with all my being that someone, somewhere in government will have to account for the lack of funds that resulted in the mentally ill to go out to the streets. However, I also believe that each one of us individually will be given the opportunity to account for our action or inaction when it comes to providing "a cup of cold water in (Jesus') name."
I think we will one day be utterly amazed (and dismayed) at the things God will hold us to account for in this life. We seem to think that He'll hold to account the axe murderers and the prostitutes (and I think He will do that if they aren't forgiven). But I also think He has things on his list that aren't even on our radar screens.
I know the idea of a little black book where God writes all of the bad things we do seems quaint and out of touch. But somewhere, somehow, the poor, the abused, the widow, the child, the orphan, and the mentally ill will have their day and have their say. And we'll be on the receiving end of it and we won't like it very much.
Neither will God.

Eyes and Ears

We hear much in our time about God being unhappy with America due to something we are or aren't doing. "God will judge us because we...." You fill in the rest. I've heard everything fill in that sentence from notions of political corruption and corporate greed to aborting babies and engaging in what people think are unjust wars. I've also heard that we will incur God's wrath if we don't support Israel, if we stay in the United Nations, and if Mr. Obama is elected President of this nation.
Now, I agree that some of those things should not be in the life of a people. (By the way, in my opinion, staying in the U.N. and electing Mr. Obama President are NOT in that list.) But I seldom hear anything about an issue that just continues to rear its head time and time again, and because of which I believe God may judge us indeed as harshly or more harshly than any of the above (with one possible exception).
God has always been especially interested in the powerless. He has always been the friend of the poor. He has evermore been on the side of the innocent, the child, the one unable to care for himself...the widow and orphan. He has also always been critical of those who would take advantage of someone who is in a powerless position in life...reserving the nastiest and harshest condemnations for people who would somehow run roughshod over the sick, the infirm, the children, and the powerless.
Look at the Beatitudes. Look at the rest of the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew. Look at the story of the rich man and Lazarus. Look at what Jesus says about letting the children come to Him. Look at how Jesus treated the widow, the sick, and the infirm. Look at what Jesus says to the Pharisees about how they treat others.
Look at the Law of Moses and how that law treats the poor, women, and the powerless. Even though that law might be somewhat primitive for some of us, in that day, it was light years ahead of any other culture in the treatment of the servant or other powerless person.
I don't care what spin one tries to put on these passages of Christian Scripture; the meaning is plain as day to me. God has taken a special interest in the powerless. And if there is any judgment to come in this nation, it will be, I think, because we shove the sick, the widow, and the orphan into the corners of our lives. We push the homeless into the cracks of our society. We shuffle our children into the abyss of irrelevance. We tell the poor to just go get a job. And many of us do it in the name of "compassionate conservatism."
"They should get a job."
"Why don't they take better care of themselves?"
"They'll just buy cigarettes and beer with that money."
"Their families should care for them."
Do you find any of those types of comments in the words of Jesus when he dealt with people of little means? "Blessed are the poor in spirit." "Blessed are the meek." "Let the little children come to me."
I shudder to think of what God thinks of our Veteran's Administration, for example, which was ordered by law in 1996 to provide a full month's veteran's benefit to a surviving widow, even if that veteran died on the first or second day of the month. As of this writing, that STILL has not happened. Widows continue to have their checking accounts accessed to retrieve that last month's payment, and continue to be hounded by the VA if they can't get the money out of the bank account. Only the outcry of a couple of Senators who are also veterans has prompted the VA to decide that it needs to reprogram its computers to comply with the law.
I am appalled at the waiting lists that people who are sick and infirm have to be on for an interminable amount of time in order to receive basic life services. For some reason, we seem to have all kinds of money to build great edifices and purchase grand furnishings for government offices, but can't provide home services (washing clothes, cleaning house, etc.) to a paraplegic.
I can hardly stand it when I hear that there is no treatment available for the mentally ill, the addict, or the dysfunctional family; yet we seem to have all the money in the world to fight a war, bail out Wall Street, and junket to the south sea islands.
I tremble to think that we are throwing away children both by abortion as well as through inadequate educational opportunities, by forcing them to live in crime-infested neighborhoods, in looking the other way as they are abused and used, and neglecting their cries for help by not providing a safe and helping environment. (I worked this one for a time...don't you dare tell me we're doing all we can...if you do, you don't have a clue.)
I am angry at our Social Security system which takes months on end to process a request for disability, asking for more and more information, delaying upon delay; finally denying the claim only to reverse on appeal. By the time it's all over, the need is beyond critical and many just drop out of the process before any help arrives.
I'm even outraged at the fact that in Sedgwick County it takes upwards of four months to receive a death certificate from the Coroner's office due to backlogs, lack of personnel, and stifling inefficiency. (You know well that until a death certificate is issued, the person is not legally dead and no benefits, life insurance, or other business affairs can be paid or consummated.) Families in crisis and mourning deserve better, and I think God notices things like that and how we handle those things.
Yes, we may be a great nation, at least in the eyes of some. But I think the true measure of greatness is how we treat those who cannot provide and care for themselves. And I think we are even now being judged accordingly. I don't like where I think this is going, and I think the Christian community bears much responsibility for this fiasco. We have not been and are not the eyes and ears of Jesus. If we were, the world would be a much different place.

Odds & Ends

I got hauled onto the carpet a few days ago for saying in a prior blog that we were "plodding through Habakkuk" at church. This may have been a bit over the top. Maybe I should have said, "Were taking Habakkuk at a careful, even pace in order to glean the most from this amazing little book."
Now, really, does that sound like me? Or am I more like someone who would say that we're "plodding through Habakkuk?" Your answer to that question may as well rest with you, as I think I know which one I am. (Actually, we were taking Habakkuk at a careful, even pace, which I appreciated greatly. Thank you, Scott.)
It's been cold here, and we're had a couple of snows and a little ice. The sun is out today, but the wind is chilly out of the north. the snow is gone, and we are left with the cold and damp. This is the time of the year to expect that kind of thing, I suppose, but I also wonder if it's a little more than we usually get this time of year.
Christmas is fast upon us. Just a few more days until most of us have the privilege of being with family and friends, eating turkey, ham, cranberry salad, pies, and all that goes with a traditional meal.
We who are Christians are reminded pretty much all this holiday season (from Thanksgiving on) that God has been good to us, loves us, and desires a genuine relationship with us. I wonder how frustrating it is sometimes for God to continue to make overtures of friendship and fellowship day after day, only to see the objects of those overtures turn away time and time again. I feel that I have sometimes done that with God, and I wonder why it is that He continues to make advances toward me in love and acceptance, even when I know that I have rejected Him so much and so often. I'm reminded of the words of the old gospel song that go, "And wonder how He could love me, a sinner, condemned, unclean."
Of course, I know the words that follow: "Oh how wonderful, how marvelous, And my song shall ever be; Oh how wonderful, how marvelous is my Savior's love for me!"

Plodding Through Church (Not!)

I follow a blog written by a cousin of mine (actually, I think she’s a “first cousin once removed”). Joanna wrote several days ago about counting down to the weekends and dreading Sunday because it was the beginning of another week. I can relate somewhat to that, as I become noticeably more calm inwardly when Thursday afternoon comes, and Fridays are really a good day because I have a couple days to rest.

I have learned, however, to not dread Sundays or Sunday nights (which is now as I write this). On the contrary, I find Sundays to be the best of the days of the week, primarily due to the interaction and fellowship of my church family on that day. Of course, afternoon naps, Sunday dinner, and football are helpful in making Sunday a great day, but I’ll say with conviction and surety that it’s the relationships we have with church friends that makes the day.

Today I watched our sign language interpreter sign Silent Night as we sang. I watch them often, entranced by the beauty of that language and their interpretation of it. Today was no exception. I was moved to tears as I watched Scott interpret that song, and seemed to hang on each word and phrase, soaking in the meaning of God becoming a human being because of His love for me.

Rick had a great lesson and Eric did a masterful job as worship leader. The class was relevant and encouraging, and people were friendly and seemed genuinely happy to be there.

As I sit here and think about it, I think that’s one of the big things about Central. The people who come seem to be genuinely happy to be there. Church doesn’t seem to be a chore or something that they must plod through (even though we’ve spent the last seven or so weeks in Habakkuk chapter 1 in class…is that “plodding”?); it’s a joy and a privilege. Church politics and things that are not for the edification of all just aren’t allowed to be there. That kind of attitude rubs off on me, and I hope that my attitude is such that the good parts of it rub off on others.

Even though I’d much rather be retired and not have to go to work tomorrow, I’m ready for the week ahead. One huge reason for that is I have been renewed and revitalized by my association with others today who also both need revitalization and provide it.

Church is a blessing to me, and I hope it is for you as well. If it isn’t, maybe there’s something that’s not as it should be either in your life or in the life of your church family. In either case, it’s your business and it’s your responsibility.

In The Feedbox

One of my favorite Looney Tunes cartoons from years ago is a Foghorn Leghorn cartoon that tells the story of when Foghorn woos Miss Prissy the hen in order to have a nice place to call home and keep warm in the winter. The plot goes something like this. (Credit Wikipedia for the synopsis. I changed it some to reflect my recall of the story.)

Foghorn reads a newspaper story in the Barnyard News predicting a cold winter. To avoid freezing in his shack, he decides to woo Miss Prissy ("I need your love to keep me warm."), who lives in a warm, cozy cottage across the way. Miss Prissy is flattered by Foghorn's brief courtship, but tells him that, in order to prove his worthiness as her mate, he needs to show that he can be a worthy father to her nerdy son.

The little boy - Egghead Jr., is dressed in a stocking cap and oversized glasses – and would rather read about "Splitting the Fourth Dimension" than engage in typical little boy games. Foghorn, intelligent rooster that he is, catches on to this and sets out to win Miss Prissy’s heart by showing Egghead Jr. how to play various sports games.

They try baseball and flying paper airplanes first. Then they play hide and seek. Foghorn hides in a feedbox. However, Egghead uses a slide rule (anyone younger than 40 won’t know what that is) and determines mathematically that Foghorn is buried in the ground. He uses a shovel to dig a hole, and pries Foghorn out of the hole with the shovel.

Foghorn is totally befuddled at this turn of events, knowing that he hid in the feedbox, not in a hole in the ground. He looks over at the feedbox, however, and decides to not look in it because, “I just might be in there.”

Although it’s a cartoon and is, at least in my mind very funny, on a more serious note, I’ve at times found myself in a situation, wondered how I got there, but decided to not pursue it any further because of what I might find out that I might not want to know. During those times (which have thankfully been few and far between), this cartoon sometimes came to mind as I struggled to make sense of it all, then decided that it wasn’t probably something I really wanted to do.

I’m also reminded, as I write this, of times in the Bible when someone determined to ask God for an answer, then later either regretted it or really didn’t want to know when God did tell him. Habakkuk comes to mind, asking God how long He’s going to be silent and allow all of the sin and corruption in Israel. God ends up telling Habakkuk something that Habakkuk just can’t swallow: God is preparing a nation that is the epitome of evil in the world for an invasion of Israel to provide the appropriate punishment. I wonder if Habakkuk thought to himself that he really shouldn’t have pressed God on the issue and would have been better off not knowing.

Job insisted on his innocence and demanded that God show Himself. When He did, and by the time God was done with Job, he said to God, “I repent in dust and ashes.” Job too may have wished that he never had called God onto the carpet.

You may be able to think of times in your own life when you hesitated to look in the feedbox, so to speak, because you “just might be in there.” There’s nothing wrong with looking in the feedbox. We humans naturally want to know the hows and whys of things and to understand life as much as we are able. And there’s nothing wrong with calling God on the carpet when you don’t understand things. God is big enough to handle your complaints, and as long as you do your complaining in faith and with respect, God will hear you.

Just be prepared for what you're going to find in that feedbox.

A Message

Every so often, I get a comment on one of the blogs. I enjoy the comments, even the ones (although there are few of them) that do not agree with me. Discussion on issues is a part of who we are. That’s why I do not have comment moderation enabled on this blog; however, I will remove a comment if it is patently offensive or otherwise inappropriate.

One of my recent commenters is a woman named Carrie Looney. I give her entire name because she did the same in one of the comments. I know who this woman is, but haven’t met her. I’m going to use the blog to send you a message, Carrie.

I’d love to correspond with you from time to time, but don’t have your email address. Use my blog email address aminnot-blogger@yahoo.com to send me your address, if you wish to do so. If you do, I’ll send you my private email address. If you’d rather not, that’s OK, too.

I know most of the others who comment. Kathy is a good friend from Western Kansas. WDK is a relative who lives not far away. Scotty is my son. Chris is a friend from Northeast Kansas. And so on.

Carrie is a special person, even though we’ve never met. She is a descendent of the woman who graciously volunteered to pay for my college education and provided just the right amount of love and support for us when things seemed to be at about their worst for us. Also named Carrie, she did things like this not only for me, but for countless others over the years of her life…people who the granddaughter Carrie will probably never meet. However, young Carrie seems to have an interest in knowing more about her grandmother’s efforts and in seeing some of the results of her grandmother’s work.

I’m not a young man any more. I have far more years behind me than I do ahead of me. Who and what I am today, however, is in large measure the doing of the woman who quietly stepped to my side that day almost thirty years ago and gave me hope. I’d like to think that I have been and am doing the same as I can and am able.

You may think that I devote far too much time to this part of my life and Carrie Lou’s role in it. If you think that, you don’t understand the immense importance of what God did for me through her. To say that I am here writing this, having an intact family and a decent job could, I think, only be said because of her effort on my behalf. I shudder to think of what may have happened had she not been there for me.

You too never know what effect you may have on the life of someone else. You don’t have to have a lot of money to have the most profound, life-changing effect on another. Kind words, a deed done well, a friendship, or just an understanding heart can literally give life and hope to someone who has that need. And you'll probably never, ever, ever know the full import what you did.

Dutchman

I was at the neighborhood hardware store this afternoon picking up some Christmas decorations at half price. I was in the checkout line bantering with the clerk (I go there often and know this clerk somewhat) about whether or not she would help me carry out what I had purchased. I don’t know exactly what I said, but must have butchered it some, because a man in the line behind me piped up and said, “Sounds like a Dutchman.” I smiled and told him that he was pretty close.

I’ve been accused by my wife of saying things in ways that tend to betray a part of my ancestry. It’s called Pennsylvania Dutch, I think, and beyond that I don’t know much. One or more of the readers of my blog who are related to me might be able to better talk about that ancestry and how it came to be known as Pennsylvania Dutch. I always thought it was more German than Dutch. But I’m not the expert.

One of the only lines I can recall that my mother used to say was, “It’s makin’ down wet,” when she wanted to say it was raining. I’m sorry to say that I can’t really think of any other phrases right now. I’ll probably be able to think of several after I publish this.

My Dad’s family was from the same ancestry as my Mother, and I’m sure they had several things they said similar to the “makin’ down wet” line. But Dad never carried most of them over, and we never really learned them from him. Other things, yes. And some of those “other things” are unmentionable here. He was a colorful man in some respects, to say the least.

What will we give to our descendants? What stays? What goes? What takes its place? It’s an ever-changing formula with an ever-different outcome. But that’s what, in part anyway, makes us the unique creatures we are.

Musings About a Job

I won’t go into detail, but will only say that the week at work was certainly one of the more trying weeks I’ve had recently. With that as a very brief background, I’d like to offer some snippets I’ve been thinking during this time.

I have a job. There are many that don’t. There are some standing in the unemployment lines. There are some standing in the food lines. I’m not doing that. I have a job.

The job I have is not of my doing; it is a gift from God. He has chosen to bless me in this way. I am so grateful and humbled by His decision.

Not everyone recognizes the blessings of having a job. Evidently, they believe the world owes them a job. I hope they learn the better of that before something bad happens.

I could have a job where I place a widget into a hole 450 times a day, go home, go back to work the next day, and do it all over again. Thankfully (and for my sanity’s sake), I don’t have a job like that.

I don’t like to leave things undone in my job. I have left some undone things over this weekend, and I don’t like that. I couldn’t help it, though. The time just ran out.

The whole of an organization is greater than the sum of its parts. The organization becomes an organism in and of itself. It’s both awesome and scary to be part of something like that.

I’ll do this for as long as it goes…as long as God chooses to bless me with this job. Then I’ll be off to the next adventure. Whether that comes next week, next year, at retirement, or at the end of my lifetime, I’ll need to be ready.

I get more tired at the end of the week than I used to get. It’s only 9:30 and I’m ready to hit the hay.

The National Anthem

We were talking, during a Thanksgiving get-together, about the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner. There are four verses to the song, but we sing only the first, most times.
I agree with whoever of my relatives said that perhaps the fourth verse SHOULD be the one we know and sing. What do you think?

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Happy Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving Day. It is a national holiday, made so during the Lincoln administration. It is meant to be a time of thanksgiving. It has, as most things do over time, morphed into something far different than the original intent.

That’s not necessarily bad. As society changes, these kinds of things change with it. Some of the changes are seen as good; others as unnecessary or even bad. The great thing about the holiday is that families can celebrate it (or not) pretty much any way they choose. And that in itself is something for which to be grateful.

Tomorrow is Black Friday, the day where the world is supposed to go shopping and give new life, especially this year, to an economy that many think is in sore need of a boost. I don’t plan to go shopping tomorrow. I plan to work. I have not made all of my purchases this year, but know what I will be getting and will buy them when the opportunity presents itself. Besides, what I want to buy won’t be on any sales racks tomorrow anyway. When I’m ready to get my items, I’ll go the store, go right to the display, choose the item, and pay for it all in the expanse of (hopefully) less than 15 minutes. And I’ll be done. If that means I’m not doing enough to prop up the economy, then I’m sorry, but that’s the best I’ll do.

Sometime this weekend, I need to at least formulate a plan for putting up outdoor lights. I’m not looking forward to it, but think it would be “best” if I made the attempt. Once up, I enjoy them; I just don’t like to do the work. Maybe I should hire someone to do my lights for me. There are people that do that in the Wichita area. Hmm. That opens up a whole new thought process…I’ll have to give that some thinking time.

Actually, there are people in the Wichita area that will do just about anything for you. They’ll shop, clean, drive, poop-scoop, trim, haul, deliver, build, pet-bathe, sit, cook, winterize…you name it; someone here will do it for a fee.

Happy Thanksgiving.

What is Important

I was coming back from my brother’s place this evening after going there to use his router on a piece of plywood. He lives in the Valley Center area, about 12 miles from where we live. It’s a rather good drive up there and back, taking about 20 minutes in decent traffic.

I was thinking, in the darkness of the cab of the pickup, of where we were a year ago at this time. As you may recall, we were staying with my brother in their home because we lost our positions at the children’s home where we lived and worked. We had no house to go to, no place to call home, and had to find something quickly. We packed our things and moved them into my brother’s big shed, then occupied a 12 foot by 12 foot bedroom in their home for four months until we found work and a place to live. During that time, we took unemployment, got ourselves back together, enjoyed the safety and warmth of a home, looked for work, and made plans for the future.

Of course much has changed in a short time. I haven’t a clue how or why things happened (and continue to happen) to us as they did, but came away from that experience with a renewed sense of what is truly important and what is not.

Family is important.
Faith is important.
Things are not important.
Encouragement is important.
Self-motivation is important.
Appearances are not important.
Church is important.
Maintaining some semblance of normal living is important.
Being first (# 1, primo, or however you want to say it) is not important.

Other important things might be:

Being gracious, thankful receivers of help.
Being as useful as possible in whatever circumstance.
Continuing cultivating relationships with family and friends.
Sharing.
Continuing to give.
Willingness to serve.

Some things to lose all together, especially during times like that are:

Pride
Selfishness
Pity
Revenge/Payback
Complaining
Sense of entitlement
Laziness

Some list, huh? Take a look at them and decide what you need to work on BEFORE you find yourself in some kind of predicament.

More Random Thoughts

I’ve done a couple of “random thoughts” blogs lately, and kind of like that idea. Here are a few more thoughts that have been floating around among the cobwebs recently.

I have to think that God perhaps put within animals (I am thinking specifically about dogs) the ability to help humans with things that humans can no longer do. Seeing eye dogs, therapy dogs, and dogs that sniff out narcotics, petroleum products, bodies, and other things are invaluable. Dogs are now being trained to help combat wounded veterans with the activities of daily living.

We had inservice day at the home today. We did all of our required inservices at various stations, and employees came in and went from station to station to be inserviced. I had one of the stations, and had a chance to observe the parade of employees that came through. One or two were men; all the others women. I was taken by the diversity of our workforce and struck by the fact that many of these employees were living paycheck to paycheck, had basic needs that they could not meet, were in relationships that were not good for them, and were generally struggling with life and living. Even though I know that many people live less-than-stellar lives, I still would be surprised if I knew the life story of many of those I work with daily.

The sunsets the past several days have truly been superb!

My wife and I have been blessed far beyond what we have ever thought or imagined in our 34 years together.

Why does the Dillons brand of grape pop taste better than Pepsi or Coke at the end of the work day?

I think computer people purposely keep the operation and maintenance of software and hardware complicated in order to maintain jobs for themselves.

Sunday is probably my favorite day of the week. It wasn’t always so.

I’m not sure why, but it seems that the general population is getting younger.

On that same note, I am certain that there are doctors out there who aren’t yet 18 years old (at least they don’t LOOK 18).

I wonder how many people within five miles of our home will go hungry this Thanksgiving. I wonder how many are hungry right now with nothing to eat.

What, in heaven’s name, do I have to complain about?

Who Knows?

It has ended up a good day. This morning, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be part of this day or not; however, it ended on a couple of positive notes.

First, as I was going to my office, a resident stopped me and we chatted for a minute or so. She has multiple issues, and may never leave the home. Nevertheless, she seems to always have a good word, something funny, or just a smile for those who pass by. She wished me a good weekend, and I did the same for her.

Second, the computer guru for the place (our son) got the printer that we had tried to put on the network up and running. Now, we’ve said that before only to have it not work the next day. But I have good vibes about this time and think we (he) got it going for good. That’s been something weighing on me even though I wasn’t the primary person responsible for getting it going.

Shortly, we will go to my brother’s place for soup and a good time. We always get together on Friday evenings, and this time they’ve invited us all to their place. I look forward to the time.

Although much in the day was negative, or was something that nagged to be done, fixed, or dealt with, those two positives seem to outweigh all of the other and made the day a good close to the work week. Maybe that will carry forward on to Monday as I go into yet another work week. Or maybe not. Who knows?

I think I know, or should know. After all, I am the one who has charge of my attitude as the next work week comes on.

The Small Things

I want you to know that I started a blog about the thunderstorm moving through, and the power went off. Not having a UPS, I lost a couple of paragraphs, which I will try to recapture here.

As I sit here this evening, I am witnessing what may be the last true thunderstorm of 2008. The thunder is heavy and frequent, lighting is dancing all over the sky, and the rain is coming down heavily. The radar shows a line of thunderstorms moving through the area, with rather heavy returns on the radar echo.

Most of today, it has rained. It started about 9:30 this morning, and has rained more or less gently all day. But tonight, it seems that Someone wanted to flex some muscles, so we now have thunder, lightning, heavy rain, and just a wisp of hail on the roof.

(What follows will be the post-outage part of the blog.)

We are still experiencing thunder almost continuously, although it’s farther away than it was a few minutes ago. Lightning is still all over the sky, and it’s still raining, albeit slower.

I stood outside for a few minutes just after the storm started. I wanted to experience possibly the last display of spring/summer weather this year. I don’t know why; it just seemed important to me.

I seem to relish these kinds of things in life more and more. Smiles on children, orb spiders spinning big webs in the fall, pleasant smells, sunsets (I don’t get up early enough for sunrises), our music worship on Sundays, good coffee, rain, time with loved ones, and a host of other things that are for many routine, small, and unnoticed are for me some of life’s best moments.

I hope you are enjoying the small things in life. What are some of the small things you enjoy? Do you seek them out? After all, those small things are really, I think, God’s way of saying that He loves you and wants you to enjoy all that life has to offer. And we are blessed that it offers us so much; we are blind, ignorant, and idiotic in that we enjoy it so little.

Coming Together

“I can’t believe you’re here!” So was the exclamation when we moved to the Wichita area a few years ago, spoken by my sister, who has lived in this area for many of her years. It was, I think, an exclamation of happiness that three of the six of us siblings were now within a few miles of each other.

Still within a few miles of each other, we welcomed yet another family member to this area yesterday. And in some ways, I can’t believe he’s here. Yesterday, our younger son and his family (and our grandbabies) put their worldly possessions on a truck, and with the help of some family members, me included, drove it all to Wichita and unloaded it at a house that will shortly become a home.

Our family is close by any standard, and we enjoy the company of one-another. We have made a conscious effort, over the years, to get along, forgive, laugh, enjoy, cry, and revel in each others’ company. It started before our parents died, and the commitment only grew following their passing. No one in our family is a black sheep regardless of what they might have done in the past or are doing now, and no one in our family is an island, being alone. Even if someone would prefer to be that way, it would be very difficult to maintain that for any length of time because the love, I think, would be overpowering.

We are indeed getting older. We are not the young, vibrant, and energetic people we once were. Our reunions aren’t so much about going out and doing anymore as they are sitting, reminiscing, and catching and keeping up. We enjoy morning coffee much more than we used to, and think the grandkids have more energy than we ever had.

As we ate pizza just before we left town yesterday with our son and all of his stuff, a flood of memories came through my mind…so many memories that I couldn’t process them all. We’ve moved…a lot. And we’ve helped others move…a lot.

We have histories in several of the communities that we’ve moved to or from or helped someone move to or from. In our son’s case, my history with Emporia, Kansas where they lived began in the late 1950’s when my oldest brother moved there to go to school. It continued when next brother went there as well and continued when my niece on my wife’s side of the family moved to the area. Then our oldest went to school there, and our younger son moved there with his family shortly after that. You get the idea.

And it’s tough sometimes to let some of that go and live in the present. But do that we must, savoring the past and learning from it, growing all the time as we meld past experiences with present situations to create future decisions. It all comes together, and it all fits, somehow. The trick is to accept that at face value and just continue on life’s adventure as God continues to unfold to each of us our own personal and unique present tense.

A New Addition

Friday evening we had our family over for pizza. When sis arrived, I was out on the drive looking at a stray dog that had wandered into our neighborhood. One of my neighbors had earlier told me that the dog had been here for several hours and possibly a day or so, so his daughter put out some water for it. He said they called animal control to come and get it.
When I told my sister what I was looking at, she immediately saw the dog and tried to befriend it (I knew she would do that). One thing led to another and before I knew it, the dog was in our back yard and she had gone to the store for some food.
Coming back, she fed her and said she would be back today to take her to the humane society. When she came back today, that had changed to taking the dog to the vet to be checked out. It was obvious that the dog had been either homeless for some time or had been abused. But she was friendly and seemed to be behaved.
Saturday, the vet said that she was in basically good shape, didn't have heartworms, and had a bacterial infection on her skin that made her hair shed. She has several cracked or broken teeth, and is not neutered.
As of now, the dog (Lydia is her name, since she was found on Lydia street) is at my sister's house and is being medicated for the infection and treated to a bath (that should be interesting). Sister's hubby isn't too thrilled about this whole affair, but she thinks he will come around.
I know that sometimes it isn't worth it to save an animal like this. The cost is just prohibitive. However, it doesn't take that much to take it to the vet and have it examined...then make the determination as to what to do. I also know that it isn't possible for one person to take in every stray that comes along and do what Sis did.
But isn't it good to know that there are still people in the world who have compassion for those (animal or human) who are in need. There's an attitude there that manifests in deeds such as this...an attitude that is more and more being shoved to the background as greed and selfishness come front and center. Christians are called to be salt, light, and leaven. I don't have time to go into the theological explanations of that statement, but will only say that it is more critical than ever in this day and time that we truly become what we are asked to be.

Make a Difference

This afternoon was just drop dead gorgeous. The temperature was just right, the wind was a breeze, and the sky was clear blue as far as I could see. Fall is here, and the trees are shedding leaves that are brightly colored and hued. Native grasses are subtly beautifying the landscape with their seed heads and multi-colored stems. What could be better?

Well, a lot of things could be better, in my estimation. We could have a better election campaign season with ads that are not misleading or outright wrong. We could have a favorable international balance of trade. We could have elected officials that truly take our interests to heart instead of the interest of how to maintain their positions. Individuals could take others’ best interests to heart as well in the form of respect, dignity, deference, and humility.

I could go on and on about what is wrong with the world today. However, I must stop and ask myself, “What am I doing about it?” Yes, me. What am I doing about the elected officials, or treating people with respect, or the balance of trade? What am I doing about the issues that affect me and about which I complain? What can I do? How can I do anything about some of these? I feel so helpless and powerless.

I’m not going to give you any answer to the question of “What can I do?” Instead, I’m going to leave it to you to seriously ponder that question in response to the things you complain about, and find something that you can do to help alleviate that issue. It doesn’t matter to me if the issue is homelessness, the deterioration of morality, abortion, corruption, violence, or something else.

You can do something. You are not powerless. We hear and read regular accounts of people who have and are making a difference. Ordinary people in an ordinary position in life are making extraordinary differences in the world. If you still are clueless, Google “make a difference” and take a look at some of the URL’s that come up.

It’s easy to complain. It’s a lot tougher to find an answer and a response that is appropriate. But that’s your task right now. And if you’d like to tell me just one thing that you complain about and what you’ve decided to do about it, email me or comment on this blog. If not, that’s OK; just don’t complain to me about whatever it is that gripes at you.

Striking!!

I was standing outside our church building this evening waiting for classes to begin. We often are early for classes due to our eating at the building every Wednesday (they serve a meal there for anyone who wants to eat there…it’s $3.00 a person) at 6pm. Classes don’t start until 7pm, so there’s usually some time available.

In any event, I was standing outside the building when another member came to me. I said I was outside because it was quieter out here than inside. He remarked the same and said he had come outside to take a cell phone call from Guyana. Guyana is a South American country. This man does mission work there a couple of times a year, so the phone call wasn’t unusual for him to receive.

What struck me, though, as I wondered on out into the parking lot, was the fact that someone in South America dialed a number (actually, they probably punched in various tones that represented numbers) and a cell phone in central Wichita Kansas USA rang and these two people carried on a conversation. What an amazing technology telephony is! How wonderful! Then it really hit me.

Why is it that our government seems to have so much trouble counting votes in an election?

The End

Today, we went to our house in the small community southwest of here for what we hope is the final time. If all goes well, this coming Tuesday we will sign papers handing over title to the property to the buyers. When that happens, a long history with that property and with our family comes to an end.

Dad bought the place in 1939 and moved his bride to it that year. They lived there, raised a family of six children, and made a house a home for 45 years or so. Following their deaths in the mid-1980’s, I bought the place out of the estate and raised my family there. We moved away in 2000 for what we thought were greener pastures, and have rented the place out since then. Now it is for sale, and now we think it is sold.

Today, we got the last of the personal items out of the house and outbuildings that we want to keep. We dug up some day lily bulbs and also dug up some old fashioned rose bush roots that we’ll try to transplant. I don’t know how successful either of these ventures will be, but we’ll see.

When we were about ready to go, I took one last look around in the house. Although it looks nothing like it did when we lived there due to wear and tear and some bad renters, it seemed that each window, each doorway, each wall, each item I looked at released a flood of old memories about that particular item. Some memories came from the time I lived there as a child. Others came from the time I was the Dad in the house and was helping raise our kids. But they all came, and came in a flood. Some choking up came as well as I realized that what has been a part of my life from my birth was about to be taken from me, leaving only memories.

Just before I left the house, I moved a small folding table that was remaining there into the middle of the living room. I placed a “Dad cap” (family will know what I’m talking about here) on the table, looked at it for a moment, then went out the front door and locked it. I know it won’t be there long, as the new people will be working on the house soon. But it’s there right now, and in a sense will remain there for many years to come, because a neighbor came over while we were there. Among other observations he said that the house will always be known as “The (my last name) House” in the community.

And that’s just fine with me.

The Inevitable

It seems that in the span of about three days, the trees changed from green to all the colors of fall. I’m not certain why, but the air indeed is more crisp and for the first time this morning, I noticed frost on our roof and on the grass in the yard. Fall is not my favorite season of the year because it portends winter and the dying, so to speak, of the things that are outdoors. I much prefer to see spring come than fall.

Having said that, I also know that fall is inevitable. I should make the most of it and enjoy what God provides, and I do. The crisp air, the smell of the morning, the bright fall days, and the coolness of the environment are both appreciated and enjoyed. I also know that winter isn’t far away. Knowing that, I always sort of skip thoughts of winter and immediately look forward to the coming spring, counting the days until the solstice and beyond.

Sometimes we allow work, issues, problems, and other things to interfere in our perception of what is going on around us. Oh, life goes on, and these things happen with regularity whether we’re aware of them or not, but it’s so much better for us when we take the time to perceive and appreciate.

It doesn’t take a lot of time or effort to do that. Just a few minutes a day looking out a window or standing on the drive in front of the house can do it. Looking at the night sky for 20 to 30 seconds is sometimes all it takes. Or finding a place to go out and dig in the dirt for awhile, if you have such a place, can be very fulfilling.

No, it doesn’t have to be a lot, and it doesn’t have to be much. We really can appreciate what we might call the small things in life. And by doing that on a regular basis, we gradually find ourselves less concerned with the latest drop of the Dow or the most recent failure of government and more enamored with those things that have preceded those other things by eons and will for eons to come outlast anything we can devise. And therein may just be our sanity.

More Thinking

Some more things I’ve thought about recently:

A fertile hen’s egg goes from a single cell to a fully-formed chicken in 21 days. The chicken is, almost from the moment of hatching, capable of drinking, eating, walking, scratching in the dirt, and many other instinctive things that chickens do. How can all of that information be packed into a single cell and that cell transformed in 21 days into a complex organism?

While we’re on the subject of chickens, if you know anything of the habits and ways of chickens in their more natural environment (on the ground or free-range), you know also that they are a marvelous and wondrous creation. They may not have the largest brains in the world, but they have been given wonderful and amazing abilities by the Creator.

Can anyone tell me why many people say “hot water heater” instead of just “water heater”? I’m guilty. Are you?

So, is it really ArKANsas? Or is it ARkanSAW?

Do politicians running for office ever really answer the questions posed to them in debates?

According to Wiki, no century ever starts on a Sunday. If true, isn’t that strange?

Why do morticians mostly all look the part?

I wonder what percentage of our national oil consumption is taken up by private automobiles? That’s where everyone is wanting to conserve, but are there other parts of our society that take as much or more oil daily that could conserve as well? What about commercial vehicles? Industrial uses of oil? Other uses?

If the universe is young (circa 5,000 years), but God created it to look mature and old, did God deceive us?

Since some of the months of our calendar are named after gods of myth and legend, should Christians adopt other names for our months? Is the use of these names tacit approval of these gods? Isn’t this the same basic argument used by those who don’t celebrate Christmas because of its pagan roots?

Will we ever get back to civility and cooperation in Washington?

Serious Quiet Time

We worship at a downtown Wichita church. It is only a block from Century II, and is on the East bank of the Arkansas River. This day, as we got out of the car in the parking lot to go in for services, I took notice of the sounds that were invading my ears at that particular time.

An EMS siren was blaring only a couple of blocks from us (As an old EMS attendant, I can still tell the sirens [EMS, Fire, Police] apart by their sounds…mostly). Waiting at the intersection, a car had its radio on entirely too loudly, and was entertaining the whole neighborhood with some kind of something some people call music. A motorcycle pulled up to the light, too, and when the light changed, the throaty sound of a too-loud cycle muffler sort-of killed all other noise for an instant.

Off in the distance were church bells, certainly electronic or perhaps digital, and the general noise of a downtown on a weekend occupied the few quieter seconds when something else didn’t fill the air.

I don’t remember thinking much of those thirty or so seconds between our car and the building, except to think that it seemed noisier than normal, and I hoped for some quiet once in the building. Now that I think about it a little more, I am reminded that for many people, noise and activity are what help keep the demons away. I don’t know if any of these noisemakers had any demons working on them, but think about it.

Most of us have to have some kind of noise or activity going on just about all of our waking hours. The TV has to be going, even if no one is watching. The radio or some kind of music is on in most vehicles all the time. We have radios or stream audio over our computers at work. IPOD’s and other such devices are so commonplace now that we don’t think about them. Why?

Could it be that we don’t want to think about the things we many times think about when we happen to wake at 3am and can’t go back to sleep? It’s quiet then, and we are there only with our thoughts (and maybe a snoring partner). It’s then that we think of job security, our financial situation, our relationships with others, or things even more serious, like our mortality, the existence of God, guilt, forgiveness, and our eternal future.

But as long as we’re preoccupied with something else, these thoughts seem to be pushed out of our minds. They come back, though, as soon as they get the opportunity. We can’t really shake them permanently. We can only suppress them for a time.

I don’t think the people downtown that day were intentionally making noise in order to briefly chase away serious thought (with the possible exception of the radio person), but I do think that we should probably take more time to think about who God is, our relationship with Him, and His with us. And that requires, for the most of us, some serious quiet time alone.

Cattle Call

Tonight, we went to the Prairie Rose and enjoyed a barbecue dinner and western entertainment. Now, I’m not normally a western-type person, but this is an enjoyable place just northeast of Wichita, and I urge you to try it if you haven’t yet.

In any event, during the entertainment, one of the songs the group sang had to do with cattle calls and someone calling cattle. I don’t know the name of the song or the words, and that isn’t important. And for those of you who don’t know, stockmen of old had certain calls that they used to call in their herds of cattle from the pastures when it was time to feed them, count them, doctor them, or whatever needed to be done. Some of the cattle would accept training to come when called and the others would follow.

During that song, I was reminded of the calls of my dad. He had two calls that he used at the pasture northwest of town where he kept his cattle. I can play them in my mind as if I heard them day before yesterday.

The first was a loud suc-calf call with the emphasis on the second syllable. His voice started rather high, but not too high, and it went up rather than down, kind of like he was asking a one-word question. There wasn’t much melody to it…it was just kind of a yelling of that word somewhere around middle C on the piano.

The second was a soo-ook in definite falsetto. The o’s in the word were pronounced the same as in the word took. This call started somewhere around the C above middle C, went down during the mid point to somewhere around G or A flat, then went up a half step or so at the end. The emphasis was on the first syllable primarily, and on the end of the word secondarily, with the middle note just a kind of connecting tone.

This second call could (and did) put chills up your spine. I don’t know what it was about it that did that, and I don’t know if any other of us siblings had the same response to it, but when he used that second call more than just a time or two, you knew he meant business. That second call also carried farther than the other, many times from the lot all the way to the far end of the pasture over a half mile away.

Dad had a kind of a bond with his herds. Oh, they would come and go, and some did better for him than others. But he’d talk with them, move among them, feed them well, doctor them when needed, and never allowed flies to torment them longer than it took for us to make the time to go up and spray them. We used a hand sprayer so as to not have the loud noise of a mechanical one upset them.

Once in awhile, there was one in a herd that just seemed incorrigible, and he’d sell him so as, it seems, to not spoil his experience with the rest of the herd. Dad never abused his cattle. He never used whips, prods, electric shock, or other means of that kind to get them moving, and he didn’t appreciate it when others came to load them up to take to sale and did use that kind of thing. He believed, I think, in the basic dignity of all of God’s creatures, even those that were destined for slaughter, recognizing that they were providing him with a means to feed and clothe his family. And he appreciated that, and treated them with respect.

I could tell of times he sent me to the pasture to bring the herd up to the lot, of times with the branding irons, of giving shots, treating for pink eye, chopping ice, filling the tank, fixing the windmill, shoveling grain, putting up hay or silage, cleaning out manure, fixing fence, chasing down strays that would get out, going to the sale barn, putting up electric fence on fall wheat, mowing prairie hay, spraying for flies, and a host of other experiences with cattle, now only memories. Those were good times, and times I’ll always cherish.

Dad’s cattle calling days are long over, and his voice has long been silenced by death. But the flood of memories that have come over me as I write this have caused me to appreciate even more my upbringing and the hard work and incredible risks that my parents took to provide for us. And in so doing, they provided us with life lessons that are with us all today in some way, shape, or form (respect for life, care for those [human or animal] who cannot care for themselves, relief of suffering, providing for family, perseverance, patience, the miracle of the creation, and a host of others). We are blessed.

Ramblings

Some things I’ve been wondering (or thinking about) recently.

Does anything taste better than vine ripe cantaloupe?

Why do some people seem so helpless? Today, one of the staff at the home told me that an alarm wasn’t shutting off when the “off” button was pressed. She had changed batteries, checked the wiring, etc. It turned out that a switch on the side of the alarm disables the “off” button when it is engaged, and the switch was engaged. When I turned the switch off, the alarm worked fine.

Is it possible to go back to the Andy Griffith Show times? Times that are slower, simpler, and more sensible, if you will? Or do we have to satisfy our longing for those times by watching the reruns?

Why does Dillons not have Post Grape Nuts Flakes on the shelf?

Does anything taste better than fresh, ripe pineapple?

If Pat Roberts, incumbent candidate for the U.S. Senate from Kansas “listened to Kansans” in voting “NO” on the bailout, and if he’s been “working for Kansas” all this time (as his campaign ads say), what things has he been working on? Does he have an alternative to the bail out he’s presented to the Congress that he developed by listening to Kansans? Or is he just a “NO” voter and a complainer?

I’m thinking that Barack Obama is underrated.

I’m thinking that John McCain will run the Executive Branch just like he’s run his campaign…terribly.

Does anything taste better than a tree ripened peach?

I’m still thinking about who I should vote for.

How do composers of music think of the tunes and harmonies that they eventually put down on paper? Do they have all of these ditties of songs playing in their heads continually? How can classical composers keep all of the parts straight? Are composers a little “strange” in some ways?

If gasoline has fallen in price, can’t one save even more money now by continuing to drive conservatively compared to driving like a wild banshee? Why, then, do so many people continue to drive like, you know, a banshee?

Does anything taste better than roast beef, cooked rice, and brown gravy?

The Rub

I got up early this morning for a quick trip to Topeka to visit a friend. Waking at about 5am, I left the house about 5:35. I was reminded at that time that the early morning is kind of a whole ‘nuther world.

The first glimpses of the morning dawn didn’t come until I was well on my way up the turnpike at about 6:20. The sun actually appeared about an hour later. Being able to watch the proceedings of the coming of the sun and the daytime was a good thing.

We seem to be far too cloistered in our homes, cars, and businesses any more to notice the things that keep our lives ordered and that are really the more important. We instead fret about the stock market and our 401k’s, the boss at work, or when we’ll be able to go shopping next.

All of these things might have an element of importance in them (at least for us), but they of themselves are all manufactured things…things that we deal with and have as a result of the human society and human interaction with nature. Things like the sunrise, however, aren’t dependent on us. In fact, the sun can rise very well with nary a human inhabiting this planet.

And maybe that’s the rub. We don’t like to admit that we aren’t needed for events like sunrise to happen, so we instead fill our lives with those things that do require our attention. Think, however, of just what we know about other bodies in space. Ice crystals on Mars, methane oceans on some of the moons of the gas giants, active volcanoes in the outer reaches of the solar system, giant storms, flying ice balls, the interaction of matter, the obedience to the laws of physics (even if we don’t understand them all), and the orderliness of the cosmos is not dependent upon us and happens all the time without as much as a speck of interference from humanity.

It kind of puts things into perspective.

What I Think

I received an email from Senator Sam Brownback's office today, part of a mass mailing, I'm sure. In the email, he talks about the financial crisis, what he thinks, and why he voted "no" to the bail out. He also asked me what I thought. I thought I should reply, since he asked. What follows is my reply, word for word.
By email, you asked for my views on the economy. I agree that we are going into a recessionary time. I also agree that some kind if intervention is necessary, and that intervention will be costly.
My concern has long been that we are not looking at the long term; rather we are wanting immediate, short term fixes that will continue to promote greed and self-serving action.
This is nothing new. Our nation's history is filled with such times. However, one would think that someone somewhere would get a clue. One would think that someone somewhere would truly have the best interests of others at heart. One would think that someone somewhere would do the right thing.
I'm sick of the political games. I'm sick of the callousness. I'm sick of the gridlock. And right now, I'm sick of the Congress and those who go, bloody hands out, to the people for relief when they are the very ones who have, over the years, been trampling the people to death in search of ever-greater billions.
You wanted to know what I think. Thanks for letting me write.

Poetry and Memory

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.

Blessings on thee, little man;
Barefoot boy with cheeks of tan.
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes.

Under the spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands.
The smith, a mighty man is he
With strong and sinewy hands.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."

The above are just about all that I can recall regarding poetry that I studied long ago in school. The poems are on the Internet, now, and I looked up a couple of them to become acquainted with them again.

I am not a poem-y person. I never took much to poetry, preferring to write prose. Some poetry I don’t understand (I also don’t understand works of art, for the most part). However, some of what Mr. Wells tried to teach us in 8^th grade, and what other teachers tried to instill into us in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s has stuck in the form of snippets of poetry such as what is above.

I am much more amazed at the working and capacity of the human brain to retain such snippets for years on end than I am of poetry itself. To think that these kinds of things have been stored somewhere in the recesses of an approximately 3.5 lb blob of tissue (which, by the way, is capable of performing 100 trillion calculations per second, according to Wiki) for fifty or so years is just remarkable in many ways.

Surely, you too know the above poems and the authors. Don’t you?

What Was That??

Just when you think the neighborhood is beginning to feel a little “sterile”, a neighbor kid a few houses over goes out on his patio on Saturday morning and begins practicing his…yep, his bagpipe.

When the Saints Go Marching In, Amazing Grace, and other tunes emanate from the contraption of tubes and pipes. Some sound rather good. Others need a little work. But more than that, it’s a reminder that neighborhoods aren’t just a collection of houses, yards, and cars. There are people who inhabit this place, and they are as individualistic and unique as can be.

The retired contractor, the physician resident, the helicopter pilot (for an air ambulance), the serviceman…all are living, breathing human beings, part of the ecosystem we call a neighborhood. People move in and people move out. There are garage sales from time to time, and I’m sure there are other, less innocent things going on that we can not readily see.

Kids play in the back yard pool down the block, and other kids ride their bikes and trikes in the streets. Busses pick up kids for school, and a few, I think, are home schooled. People work, play, go, come, eat, sleep, and dream. Some may worry. Some may have good reason to worry. Others may already be in that stage in life where they know that worry gets them nowhere, fast.

Our missions committee at church is thinking about an urban ministry of some sort. It got me to thinking how I would approach our neighborhood with a ministry of some sort. In all honesty, I haven’t a clue. Now, what was that He said about being salt, light, and leaven in the world?

Dives and Establishments

Today, I went over to my barber on 13^th Street to get a haircut. I got there just as she was opening, and there were a couple of guys there waiting ahead of me, so I went next door to the Riverside Café for breakfast.

It’s always a treat to go to that café. Nothing pretentious, and a throwback to the days of plate lunches, lunch counters, and juke boxes, this place was so noisy at 9am that I had to raise my voice to the waitress to be heard.

Sitting at the counter beside a man and (who I presume was) his about 9 year old daughter, I noted the bustle of several employees, the loudness of conversation, and the juke box. Oh, the juke box. There are stations at many of the tables, just like the old days. The selections never change, however. And if no one plays anything for pay, the box just makes a selection every so often and blares out something from Elvis, Patti Page, the Four Tops, Louis Armstrong, or someone else from that era.

The lunch counter has a solid (no seams) copper top that has only become more striking with age and use. The cabinets behind the counter are wood, real wood, and crafted with obvious care by someone who took pride in his work. The place is crowded and cramped at times, but everyone is a friend there, and even the owner, who takes cash, tells you he’s glad you stopped in and please stop in again.

I had three strips of bacon, two eggs over medium (a little sloppy, though), wheat toast, hash browns for under five dollars ($4.59). Coffee was a dollar nineteen. The meal was unimpressive in itself, but the ambiance was great. I just sort-of sat there and took it all in. Nothing matched. Forks didn’t match spoons. Coffee cups were random this or that. The water pitchers were different colors. Pictures and other things were hung on the wall in not much of an apparent order.

I’ll take some dive like that over a fancy schmancy establishment any day.

Soaring

This evening I was out on the back patio. I noticed a large bird soaring in the air some distance away. I’m no great bird identifier, but think it was probably a hawk of some kind. I watched him as he flew.

He didn’t beat his wings once that I could see in the several minutes that I was watching. He soared, turned, cruised, and generally seemed to be enjoying being alive. At times he almost disappeared, but then turned in some way where I could see him better. I’m sure that some will say that he was looking for food or doing something for his survival; I prefer to think he was just out enjoying the day, grateful to be alive.

So, when do you take time out of your day to soar?

Perspective

Out of our back door, past the patio and our back yard, is a wall of trees and other vegetation. It truly is kind of a wall, because the property was cleared for housing back to kind of a line, then the natural growth was left in the park that abuts our property. There’s also a hiking trail not far into the woods, and we can see and hear people as they travel that trail.

The wall is a rather imposing thing at times. During twilight hours, it stands as a giant shadow, consuming all of the light that would come from that direction. During the day, it prevents me from looking more than just a few feet beyond the border. I hope that in winter, enough leaves will fall that we will be able to see farther into the woods.

That wall of growth has made me think of several things recently. When we walk on the trail, the woods don’t seem nearly as imposing as they do when I look at the wall from the outside. Also, the wall provides protection for the animals that live back there. Deer, turkey, squirrels and other wildlife are regulars, and need the protection that the woods provide.

However, in the last few days, the wall of plant life has served as a reminder that although things may be falling apart in man’s world (financial meltdown, presidential politics, etc), the creation goes on just as it has for ages past, and just as it will for ages to come (should God tarry His second coming). Regardless of what happens on Wall Street, the fish swim in our backyard pond, the deer come to the edge of the woods to graze in the mornings, and the trees continue the photosynthesis process.

It kind of brings things back into perspective.

Earmarks

One of the things that is going around in political circles nowadays is the fact that politicians are all railing against a Congressional practice known as earmarks. For those who may not know, earmarks are defined by different people in different ways. Generally, the definitions that follow are pretty much on target.

One type of earmark, the soft earmark, is the one in which a member of Congress successfully inserts language into a conference committee report or spending bill which urges or recommends that a certain amount of federal money be spent for a specific purpose, usually in his/her home state or district. These are known as soft earmarks because although they do not have the force of law, they are treated as if they do by the agencies having charge of the funds, in order to not rankle members of Congress or have their budgets cut by the Congress in the future.

Hard earmarks are language put into bills or committee reports by members of Congress which direct (not recommend) agencies to appropriate funds in a certain way to certain projects in a certain amount. These earmarks are decreasing in popularity because of relatively recent ethics legislation which requires members of Congress to publicly disclose when they use this process. The soft earmark is not defined by Congress as an earmark; therefore, it is a way to circumvent this disclosure process.

Hard earmarks are not necessarily evil. In fact, under the Constitution, the Congress is required to “pass legislation directing all appropriations of money drawn from the U.S. Treasury.” (Article I, Section 9) (Wikipedia) Congress has the power to direct specific funds to specific projects. In practice, however, in recent times Congress has appropriated a sum of money to an agency and then gives the agency the authority to spend that sum as needed. This essentially gives the Executive branch the final say in how (or whether) the money will be spent. It is understandable that the Executive branch would not take kindly to the Congress taking back that authority (which the Constitution already gives to the Legislative branch).

I think what is happening is a backlash against the so-called soft earmarks; those which escape the scrutiny of ethics legislation and can remain anonymous “requests”. I believe that Gov. Palin, for example, (and as demonstrated by her response to questions in the recent ABC interview) is not against the appropriation of money for specific projects, but rather is against the methods now used (soft earmarks) to do so.

The ethics legislation which brought about the use of soft earmarks (in order to thwart the purpose of the legislation) was enacted early in 2007. It is entirely consistent with Gov. Palin’s actions and statements regarding earmarks that, although she is not opposed to the hard earmarks (remember that the Congress has specific Constitutional authority to use hard earmarks) which benefited her state and community in years past, she is opposed to the thwarting of the intent of the ethics legislation passed last year by the creation and use of soft earmarks. Senator McCain has also made his displeasure well-known on this issue. Our collective misunderstanding of this issue has led us to incorrect conclusions and wrong assumptions.

I have to wonder just how much people pay attention to what is actually being said and what is actually going on in Washington. Additionally, I have to wonder whether people really know what the Constitution provides and allows. I have a much clearer picture of the earmark brouhaha now, and spent only about 15 minutes on-line (yes, I used Wiki, but I also used material from official non-partisan government agencies) finding out the particulars of the issue. If you’ve stayed with me down to this point, you also have a clearer understanding of the issue, and are probably more informed than 98% of the American public.

Courageous Living

Several times these last couple of weeks, I’ve thought about writing on a certain topic, but was always deterred somehow. Now, as I have the time to write, I cannot recall many of those topics that I have thought of in the recent past. Let’s see…maybe I can remember some of them at least enough to give you the general sense of what I’ve been thinking.

Courageous living. I know I’ve talked about that before, but I continue to see example after example of courageous living in the care home where I work. And I see it on the part of staff as well as the residents, who survive each day at a poverty level or near poverty level existence, balancing raising kids with working sometimes two or three jobs and just keeping everything afloat.

These are the people that Mr. McCain and Mr. Obama say they are fighting for and want to help. However, I hold no illusions that either one of them (or anyone else in government, for that matter) really know what’s happening right now to those families. Nor do I hold any illusions that government can be responsive to the needs of these people, even if it does know what is going on.

Because in order to truly know the lives of these people, one has to do more than shake hands and pause for a photo. It takes, I think, a long term relationship with people in their own environment to see the fear, courage, trepidation, hope, promise, and anxiety of these people. And somehow, I don’t see Mr. McCain working at my job in maintenance, unclogging toilets, pulling weeds, and taking out the trash, or Mr. Obama becoming a Certified Nurse Aide, making beds, feeding residents, and cleaning the butts of folks who could be his grandparents.

(Caveat here. In no way do I wish to minimize the service of Mr. McCain and his 5+ years in a prison camp and torture house. He will forever be a hero in my mind, and I will always marvel at his [and others] guts, determination, hope, and endurance during a time when by far the most of us would not even be here to tell about it.)

(Nor do I wish to minimize the service of Mr. Obama during the time when he genuinely tried, I think, to help those in greater need in the Chicago area as a “community organizer”. Such jobs are taken on by few, and even fewer manage to make a real difference.)

(I don’t know enough about the background of Joe Biden to make any statements regarding his service or lack of it.)

Gov. Sarah Palin is about as close as it gets to that kind of thing. And although she has been insulated from some of that for awhile, her family and living situation still present challenges to her and her husband that others also have to face. I think that may be part of the great attraction (or loathing) to her on the part of the nation, and no one seems to get that.

Attraction by those who also have challenges in life and living and see her as a courageous woman with a (mostly) functional family that they would like to emulate and perhaps even be a part of. They know she has “something” that keeps her going, and want to know more about it.

Loathing by those who cannot fathom why someone would deliberately choose to raise a Down’s Syndrome child, who think she is stupid for having a religious viewpoint that includes God in the plans for her and the universe, and who see her as the antithesis of all that their warped and jaded vision of the world is and can be (or not).

This blog started out as a list of those things I’ve been thinking about; as often happens, I got off on a subject and just kept going. Whether or not I continue with the list, I just don’t know. Writing is that way, some times.