The Fly

I was listening to NPR today, and they had a story about a man who is doing research on flies…yes, the common fly. Specifically, he is photographing them with very high speed cameras that catch them in very slow motion.

The researcher (Michael Dickinson) said that the fly might well be the “most sophisticated flying device on the planet.” Think of it, folks. The common housefly has been relegated to the top tier of flying devices, and may in fact be right at the top.

Listen to what NPR says that Mr. Dickinson told them about how a fly perceives a threat and escapes out of its way. “What's remarkable about this body position is how fast it happens. In less than a 10th of a second, the fly has to perceive the threat using its eyes, determine what direction it's coming from, and then make the appropriate movement with its legs so it jumps in the right direction. And all this is accomplished by a brain that's the size of a poppy seed.”

High speed videos of the fly taking off from threats coming at it from various angles are at http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=94070264

Of course, we could get into the evolution/natural selection debate again with this information. Or we could just marvel at the creation and give praise to the One who made it all…even flies.

Something to Learn

If I have learned anything by working in a nursing home, it is the related virtues of taking things slowly and with patience. Sometimes I recognize that on my own; sometimes it is forced upon me.

What I am about to say is in no way disparaging of or condescending to those in our charge at the home. Each one is an individual created by God, with his or her own personality, strengths, and weaknesses. Each one is at the home because of an inability to care for his or herself in some way. Each one probably wishes for (and longs for) a time when he or she once again can be self-sufficient; when a foot, an arm, or some other body part moves when commanded, when a mind works as it should, and when a medical issue was no more complex than a cold.

To turn a corner and come upon someone slowly shuffling down the hall, having to stop every few feet to catch a breath, and with the greatest of difficulty imaginable willing one’s feet to move in such a way that progress down the hall is made, however small, is one of the most humbling experiences I’ve ever had.

To put someone into a vehicle and hear them tell me that their feet don’t always do what they are commanded to do…meaning I will have to put their legs and feet into the vehicle because they just won’t move on their own…is not only humbling for them, but is also an almost spiritual experience for me, at times.

I have the privilege, five or more days a week, to be of service in some way to over 50 people with one or more disabilities that make it impossible for them to navigate this world and their environment on their own. Most of the time I see to it that the building is the correct temperature, the lights work, and the plumbing isn’t clogged up. Sometimes I am able to help with a resident in some way, or just observe as they, with great stamina and courage, make it through another day.

I would be a complete idiot if I didn’t take a lesson or two from these experiences. These people are, for the most part my senior, and I can learn from them things no one else can teach. “Slow down and be patient,” they seem to be saying to me. “Don’t let life run away from you.”

Will I learn? Intellectually, I already know. It’s the “taking it to heart” that is the problem for me. One of these days, I may not have much choice in the matter. I may be one of the ones who cannot live on my own. I may be one of the ones being cared-for by others much younger than I. I may be one of those who can yet teach those younger ones something about patience.

Endurance

I was watching the Olympics over my lunch hour today. I turned on the women's table tennis matches. I like to watch sports that are a little less-known and get a little less press, so I was on MSNBC cable instead of the NBC station.
The United States contender was pretty much having her way with the challenger from...I don't remember where. It was one of the smaller European countries. As I watched, I thought that as the match went three games to none (4 out of 7 wins the match), the European player would just give up. But that did not turn out to be the case.
Although out-gunned and out-matched, the European player played harder than ever, and even took the fourth game to deuce a couple of times. She won the fourth game, making a fifth necessary. She then lost the fifth game, which was the match loss.
While all of this was going on, I thought, “She knows she's going to be beaten. She knows she can't out-play her opponent.” Then I thought, “But this is the Olympics. This is the ultimate. Those who make it to the Olympics aren't quitters and people who give up. She's playing as a true Olympian.”
I've seen this in contest after contest. There are always some in these events that are totally outclassed and out-matched by the stars. But those folks try every bit as hard...train every bit as much...and put all they have into what may be this one moment in their lives.
They may run only one race. They may play only one volleyball game. They know that they probably will not go any further. Then they are eliminated from further competition. But they do it with all they have and with all their heart.
Paul says to run with endurance the race set before us and to look at the goal...the prize...at the end of it. He says to run so as to obtain the prize. The difference between the race that Paul is talking about and the Olympic races is that everyone who finishes the race described by Paul receives the prize. All one has to do is finish.
I am reminded of the vault of Kerry Strug in the 1996 Olympics...vaulting with an injury that would otherwise have sidelined many, and with that vault “finishing the race” as it were. For those of us that saw it, it was an unforgettable moment. For Kerry, it was the mark of a true Olympian...a true champion.
“I have fought the good fight; I have finished the course...”

Are You Tough Enough?

I was listening to NPR the other day when they had an interview with one of the Olympic athletes. I believe he was an American steeplechase participant, but am not certain of that. Of course, they talked about a lot of things, but then he talked of his motivation to persevere through the training and then the competition.

I don’t know if this will strike you or not. It did me. When asked why he continues training in a sport that very few people know or care about, and if he ever felt like quiting, he said that when he gets to that place in his life, he just stops and asks himself one question: "Are you tough enough?"

Are you tough enough? Maybe we all should be asking ourselves that question at times. Now, I know that I’ll sometimes say no to that question. For example, if I think about skydiving and I ask myself that question, the answer will be “No,” although if it was a matter of life and death, I probably would jump out of that plane.

However, in everyday life and living, we face those giants that just seem to beat us down. The cranky boss, the unnerving traffic, the bad relative, never ending work, the chronic health issue, kids that never seem to grow up, or some such other issue. Maybe we are caught in a debt trap or find ourselves in an abusive situation of some kind. Perhaps we are addicted to something. Whatever it is, one key question we need to ask ourselves is, “Are you tough enough?”

The answer for many might well be no. However, for the Christian, there should never be occasion for that answer. Paul says that we have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear, but a spirit of adoption as sons. He also says that we have not received a spirit of timidity but rather a spirit of power and love. Paul also says that he can do all things through Christ, who strengthens him.

What’s going on in your life that is an issue right now? What are you battling? What is getting the best of you? Are you tough enough? If the answer is "No," maybe you need some help. Try adding Jesus Christ to the equation, then ask yourself again. You might be pleasantly surprised to find that you indeed can do all things through Christ, who strengthens you.

Porches and Perseverance

The wife and I stopped at a Braum’s ice cream store on the way home from evening church and got a hot fudge sundae. We were discussing the lesson we had just heard from a young man who was debuting as a speaker. He is a member of our church, and asked to be able to try his hand at speaking to the evening assembly. He did a great job, and we were talking about some of what he said.

We went just a few blocks with our sundaes to my sister’s house. I decided that whether or not she was home, we would sit on her enclosed porch and eat our sundaes. Sis was home, so she joined us on the porch.

She writes about her porch in her blog. It is a good place to congregate, visit, and just think. Sis has an older home with a large front porch that has been screened in and is very comfortable, especially in the evening.

I wonder how often we long for something that we can’t quite place or put our fingers on, and what we really need is a porch and an hour or so to just sit and ponder and visit. Modern lifestyles often don’t include time or space for such a porch, and we think it to be somewhat hokey in any event. But I think there’s a need for such a time and space in everyone’s life, from Warren Buffet and Bill Gates on down to the “least of these”.

Did we solve the world’s problems? No. Did we solve our own problems? No. But we did reconnect with each other and were able to sort out some things so that we could go into the week with a fresh perspective on some issues that at present seem to be rather intractable. And after all, isn’t that the thing? To keep on keeping on…running the race…finishing the course…that’s the thing. And porches can make all the difference in whether or not we’re successful in doing that.

Today

Today is August 8, 2008. That's 08/08/08 for those of you who are superstitious or count those kinds of things to be something. I don't, except for their unusual nature, but that's for a different day and blog. Today is special, however, for a different reason. Today is the birthday of my grandfather, Sol Plank.
Now, Sol has been dead for over 40 years (almost 42, to be exact). But I don't think there's a year that goes by that I don't stop for just a moment to enjoy some memories of him.
I've talked about him before. You may have heard how he came to Nebraska on the train with his family, or how he lost everything he had in the depression, or how he marveled so at television. You may, if you remember Sol, know that his full name was Solomon B Plank, and that the B was just an initial...no middle name that began with B was part of his moniker.
You may know other things...how he drove until well into his 90's; how he lost his wife in the early 20's; and how he reached out to people of different faiths in a time and as a member of a church that frowned greatly on such things.
But I guess that what I want to leave you with today is the certain knowledge that Sol, if he would be alive today (age 138, by the way), would probably be enamored with the computer, HDTV, and the Martian Rover while at the same time gently reminding his descendants that some things are timeless...faith, love, friendship, loyalty, gentleness, and generosity.
He would continue to spin stories of homesteading on the Nebraska plains, or farming over in the Danville (Kansas) area, or of some other aspect of a remarkable life that saw everything from the invention of the telephone to the internal combustion engine, to manned space flight. And we would sit, mesmerized by his ability to recall details and his knack for weaving together stories of the old times that entertained as well as informed.

It's Always Our Fault

So now it's our fault. It always is, I guess. Oh, I didn't tell you what is our fault, did I. Why, it's the plight of the airlines going bankrupt and hemorrhaging money like banshees. Our fault? Whose bright idea is that? No less than a Mr. Dave Castelveter of the Air Transport Association. This is what was reported by NPR Radio. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93376602
“Dave Castelveter, of the Air Transport Association, says consumers share in the responsibility for the airline crisis. He says airlines have to keep airfares below their market price in order to remain competitive online. When consumers visit a travel Web site like Expedia or Travelocity, they often view flights by clicking on a button that says "list flights by lowest fare."
While airline executives would like to make a profit, they're busy trying to stay on the first page of those search results — and they can't do that if they hike their fares. This is part of the reason they've begun adding "hidden" costs for checked luggage and aisle seats, for example. Those ancillary fees do not affect a flight's price position on Travelocity and Expedia.”
So, I guess that if we the consuming public wouldn't try to always find the best deals and just take whatever happens to be offered, the poor airlines wouldn't be in this position, or at least would be in better shape than they are. If we'd just stay away from the “flights by lowest fare” button, the CEO's of the various airlines wouldn't have nearly as much explaining to do in their board meetings.
Somehow, I don't buy that. The question was raised as to why airlines just didn't raise fares to cover expenses. The reply was that if they raised fares, the planes might not be filled. In the same piece, it was said that the airlines are losing money on each fare. Now, I'm no economist, but I would think that if every fare represents a loss of $100 or more (which they said was the case), the fewer fares that lost money, the better.
OK. Let's take another look at this. Wouldn't it be better to fly fewer fares that were profitable than to fly a lot of fares that were losers? Why not raise rates, ground some flights, lay off some employees, and be profitable? I know that's easy for me to say, not being an airline employee. However, I've had my share of that kind of thing, and have also had to do that as management. It isn't easy. It demands, as the politicians say, tough choices and tough decisions (and the guts to carry them out).
Of course, it would also be beneficial to make the flying experience something more than what a cow might experience being herded from one pen to another. But that's another blog.

The Things One Learns....

O the things one learns in a nursing home!
We have an older man living here who cannot live on his own due to age and chronic health issues. Ray (not his real name) came to us virtually unresponsive and seemed to be in his own world. He would sometimes be rather messy when it came to bowel and bladder habits. He would eat little, or not at all.
That is gradually changing as the staff works with Ray. He is more vocal now and recognizes when people are speaking to him. He sometimes clears off his place at the table on his own, and enjoys walking with the staff (especially the female staff). But today I found out something about this man that I had not known, and probably would not have known had I not taken the time to watch a video.
You see, Ray is a pilot. And not only that, but he also has built airplanes...not for Boeing or Cessna, but for himself and others. And, he's a flight instructor. Ray has taught many an aspiring pilot how to fly.
Just looking at him now, one would think that this is a poor, little old man who had a less-than-thrilling life, commuting to work and back again, for forty or more years. Not so. Ray has seen the world in ways that many of us can only imagine, and has memories in his mind that make anything we know seem as kindling for his fire and persona.
I will from here on look at Ray in a different light, knowing what I now know. O the things one learns in a nursing home!

The Goldfinch In Our Yard

This morning, Pat went out onto the upstairs patio, as often is her habit. In a few minutes, she called me out and pointed out a brilliant yellow and black bird that had perched at the edge of our little fish pond and was seriously eyeballing something in or on the water. I haven’t seen yellow so bright and brilliant in nature in a long time.

We got a good look at the bird. I went in the house to get my binoculars, but when I returned, Pat said the bird had gone into the trees behind our house. Going back inside, I got my bird book and looked it up.

It didn’t take much to connect what I had seen with the American Goldfinch picture in the book. The match was almost exact. I then looked in the book for a little more information on the visitor we had briefly a few minutes before.

Among other things, the book said the birds were chiefly seed eaters. They also, unlike many species of birds, nest in the late summer and only hatch one brood due to that quirk. The book went on to explain that since seeds become more prevalent later on in the growing season, the birds wait to hatch their young until food becomes more plentiful.

Thinking about that, I wondered just how the theory of natural selection might explain how and why these birds ended up not even trying to hatch young ones until more of their preferred food was available. I imagined eons ago these birds trying, but failing to keep their young alive as they hatched broods in the spring like many other birds. I guess natural selection would say something like, “These families of birds died out, not being able to reproduce. However, some of the finches who (for whatever reason) happened to wait until later in the year to hatch their young, were successful and passed that trait on to their offspring.”

That may sound good to many of you, but it presupposes a lot of things. First, it assumed that the birds were totally unable to reproduce in the spring, which is not supported by any factual information. Second, it assumes that some of the species somehow did not hatch until later on in the summer…again, not supported by fact. Third, it assumes that the seasons; spring, summer, fall, and winter, were always what they now are. We know that isn’t so. Fourth, it assumes that those that did hatch in the late summer were somehow able to pass along that information in their DNA to their offspring.

I don’t know about you, but it seems to me much more likely that an intelligence of some kind planned for the goldfinch to do exactly what it does rather than a series of random chances that rely on unproven assumptions caused the end result of the American Goldfinch in my back yard today.

Carrie Lou

I was looking through a publication from my college of the early 1980’s, Oklahoma Christian College (now, it’s Oklahoma Christian University). I don’t often look in the obituaries in the Christian Chronicle, but did this morning. In those obits, I saw the name of someone who possibly single-handedly saved my marriage, my well-being, my career, and my family.

This woman took me under her wing immediately following my unceremonious termination from employment at a church in Ardmore, Oklahoma in 1983. Many church workers call such terminations massacres, and I tend to agree. In any event, Carrie Lou, a woman of elegance, intelligence, sense, means, compassion, and love offered to pay my way to my choice of either Harding University in Arkansas or Oklahoma Christian in Oklahoma City. She was on the Board of Trustees at both institutions. Anything I could charge to my college account would be paid for by Carrie Lou.

I spent just over a year at OCC. During that time, I amassed 62 credit hours toward a degree. I will forever be grateful beyond words to Carrie Lou for her faith in me.

Not only did she enable me to start on my path to a degree, more importantly, she gave me and my family time to heal, reflect, validate, and grow. Her acceptance of the responsibility to provide for us provided us with a first-hand understanding of unconditional love and acceptance. She gave us a chance to reconnect, to “find” ourselves, and to understand that God has a plan for us.

Although I could not finish my degree at that time due to health concerns of my parents, I used that education to forever change, I think, my direction in life and begin to understand the purpose of my being. I am who and what I am today in large part because Carrie Lou had compassion on a young man who showed the promise of a better life.

Carrie Lou passed away in late June. Her husband passed away just a few days ago and was buried on August 1. If you care to, you can see her obituary at http://www.ardmoreite.com/obituaries/x833719071/Carrie-Lou-Scott-Little-Davis

Rest in peace, Carrie Lou, and thank you.