Today marks, for those of us who are bound by time, the end of yet another year. I think I say something like this just about every time I write on the last day of the year. It is remarkable, however, to think that we have actually arrived at this point in the continuum that is the life of the universe.
If you have some age on you, can you remember what you thought life would be like now when you were but a youngster? I remember trying to visualize the turn of the century and beyond when I was a kid in the 1950’s and later a teen in the 1960’s. Science magazines and articles helped that thinking by talking of levitating automobiles, space colonies on Mars and beyond, and pills one could take which would provide all needed nutrition for the day.
The Apollo space program sort of pushed that thinking along with its can-do attitude and whiz-bang technical prowess. Movies (1984 and others) carried our thoughts (and fears) even farther down the path of the future.
So where are we compared with where we thought we were? In some respects, we are much farther than we ever thought possible. In others, it’s the same song, 145th verse. JFK rolled out the first 100 billion dollar federal budget for 1962, and LBJ imposed a 10% income tax surtax to help pay for the Vietnam War. Now look at where we are.
On the other hand, who would have thought that we have more computing power in our telephones than IBM had in all of its research and development centers back in those days? And who would have thought about that phone being attached to our hips and that it could literally access the world through the Internet?
But where are we in the things that really matter? Doing unto others as we would have them do unto us? Bearing one another’s burdens? Helping those in need? Loving God with all of our hearts? Have we learned anything in the last 40 or so years? Have we matured and grown? Have we come to realize our responsibilities as human beings?
Don’t generalize these questions for the nation as a whole or the world as a whole. Make them personal. You can’t change the world, but you can change yourself. And that’s where I need to start.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Day Trip
This afternoon we got in the trusty Buick and took a three hour or so trip down some back roads and past some places I hadn’t seen for awhile. Leaving Wichita on K 42, I turned west on 71st Street South and went all the way over to Kingman County. On the way, I stopped and checked the moisture level (scientifically, of course…I dug down a few inches with the heel of my shoe!) in a wheat field. That particular place was damp enough 3 to 4 inches down that the dirt could be mad into a ball and would hold together.
We went on to Norwich over the county roads and drove in town a few minutes. We talked a little about the church where I preached some in the 1980’s, and the nursing home building that didn’t make it as a nursing home, but now is, we think, a place for troubled girls. There was no sign out front, so we don’t know for sure.
Going west on 42, we passed through what is left of Adams (look that one up on your Google maps) and turned south on Murdock Road. Coming to the Harper County line road, we turned west again and went to Duquoin.
The little church there seems to be kept up, although I haven’t a clue if anyone is meeting there or not. There isn’t much else. I remember a small strip of old buildings on one street from my youth. Those buildings are no longer there.
We went west on what the locals sometimes call Ridge Road (not to be confused with the Ridge Road in Sedgwick County) until we got to the Attica turn off. We went down to Attica and drove around there some, commenting on the health center and a couple of other places we saw.
We then ventured eastward toward Crystal Springs. We stopped at the church there and used the restrooms (the building is always unlocked), and I did some walking in the cemetery. There were a lot of people and names in there that I knew. I remember thinking that the people in this area, and those in the cemetery, are and were good, solid people with traditional values, good work ethic, and a way of life that many people secretly covet, yet are not willing to make the changes necessary to experience it. Some of those changes would have to be the giving up of high-salary jobs, relocation to a rural area, taking on work that could well be hard, physical labor, displaying the virtues of honesty, trust, and friendliness, and willingness to do without Wal Mart, the Mall, the Warren Theater, and Old Town. To me, the fact of the unlocked door on a church on a dirt road across from a pasture in virtually the middle of nowhere is a huge indication of the kind of people who live, love, work, and die there.
From there we went to Harper and saw the new school construction, the new hospital addition, and noticed that some businesses and the library moved. We stopped in at a downtown business (one of just a few left downtown) and talked with Ron for a bit.
Getting gas, we headed back to Wichita and the civilization that we now know. Somehow, though, even though we no longer own any property in that area, and even though we have no close relatives in that area, I felt like some of me is still there. Although I have no plans to ever move back, there is admittedly a certain draw to what for years has been home. I’m not sure that feeling will ever quite go away. Nor am I sure I want it to.
We went on to Norwich over the county roads and drove in town a few minutes. We talked a little about the church where I preached some in the 1980’s, and the nursing home building that didn’t make it as a nursing home, but now is, we think, a place for troubled girls. There was no sign out front, so we don’t know for sure.
Going west on 42, we passed through what is left of Adams (look that one up on your Google maps) and turned south on Murdock Road. Coming to the Harper County line road, we turned west again and went to Duquoin.
The little church there seems to be kept up, although I haven’t a clue if anyone is meeting there or not. There isn’t much else. I remember a small strip of old buildings on one street from my youth. Those buildings are no longer there.
We went west on what the locals sometimes call Ridge Road (not to be confused with the Ridge Road in Sedgwick County) until we got to the Attica turn off. We went down to Attica and drove around there some, commenting on the health center and a couple of other places we saw.
We then ventured eastward toward Crystal Springs. We stopped at the church there and used the restrooms (the building is always unlocked), and I did some walking in the cemetery. There were a lot of people and names in there that I knew. I remember thinking that the people in this area, and those in the cemetery, are and were good, solid people with traditional values, good work ethic, and a way of life that many people secretly covet, yet are not willing to make the changes necessary to experience it. Some of those changes would have to be the giving up of high-salary jobs, relocation to a rural area, taking on work that could well be hard, physical labor, displaying the virtues of honesty, trust, and friendliness, and willingness to do without Wal Mart, the Mall, the Warren Theater, and Old Town. To me, the fact of the unlocked door on a church on a dirt road across from a pasture in virtually the middle of nowhere is a huge indication of the kind of people who live, love, work, and die there.
From there we went to Harper and saw the new school construction, the new hospital addition, and noticed that some businesses and the library moved. We stopped in at a downtown business (one of just a few left downtown) and talked with Ron for a bit.
Getting gas, we headed back to Wichita and the civilization that we now know. Somehow, though, even though we no longer own any property in that area, and even though we have no close relatives in that area, I felt like some of me is still there. Although I have no plans to ever move back, there is admittedly a certain draw to what for years has been home. I’m not sure that feeling will ever quite go away. Nor am I sure I want it to.
Strangely Comforting
There is something strangely comforting about the last two chapters of Joshua. As I read those chapters, I wondered again about Israel and their propensity to fall into idolatry. I wondered why, when they had experienced the majestic power of God in so many diverse ways, and experienced the good life that God had given them in the promised land, that they worshipped articles of metal and stone.
But given all of that, God was faithful to them. He kept all of his promises…even the ones regarding punishment for idolatry. Not only that, but God continued to love them as a father loves a son or daughter. He continued to work with them…to counsel them…to foster a sweet relationship with them.
Yes, he said on more than one occasion that they wearied him, or that he was through with them, or would no longer save them. But that didn’t mean that he no longer loved them or no longer was concerned about them.
We have, I think, a warped sense of what love is. We try very hard to please, mistaking that for love. We become enablers of bad behavior. We don’t allow the natural consequences of behavior to do what they were intended to do…teach and admonish. Then we wonder what is wrong with us, with others, with the world.
God must be rather put off with how we have perverted his notion of love and have made it something that is cheap, selfish, and self-destructive. Yet he continues to love us just as he did Israel when they sinned. He continues to work with us, counsel us, and foster a sweet relationship with us.
There’s something strangely comforting in that.
But given all of that, God was faithful to them. He kept all of his promises…even the ones regarding punishment for idolatry. Not only that, but God continued to love them as a father loves a son or daughter. He continued to work with them…to counsel them…to foster a sweet relationship with them.
Yes, he said on more than one occasion that they wearied him, or that he was through with them, or would no longer save them. But that didn’t mean that he no longer loved them or no longer was concerned about them.
We have, I think, a warped sense of what love is. We try very hard to please, mistaking that for love. We become enablers of bad behavior. We don’t allow the natural consequences of behavior to do what they were intended to do…teach and admonish. Then we wonder what is wrong with us, with others, with the world.
God must be rather put off with how we have perverted his notion of love and have made it something that is cheap, selfish, and self-destructive. Yet he continues to love us just as he did Israel when they sinned. He continues to work with us, counsel us, and foster a sweet relationship with us.
There’s something strangely comforting in that.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Promises Kept
As I read through the middle part of Joshua, where the conquered land was divided among the tribes of Israel, I am struck by the detail and preciseness of the descriptions of the borders of each tribe. The descriptions are not at all generalized, but refer to specific cities, landmarks, and places where the border could easily be found.
It’s not an easy read. The names of the cities and landmarks have been translated into English from Hebrew. And although many of the names probably have some kind of meaning attached to them, I haven’t a clue what that might be and so don’t relate well to the names.
But it’s worth it to work through those middle chapters. The writer and compiler(s) thought it important to outline very specifically what the borders were for each tribe, which cities were given to the Levites, and which cities became cities of refuge. The fact that these writings are included in the Jewish canon, and by extension the Christian canon, causes us to stop and think about the relevance of these chapters to us. We did not inherit any of the land. The names have little meaning to us. What could possibly be so important to Christians in these several chapters?
The beginning of this saga rested with Abraham and God’s promise to him that his descendants would be blessed and that they would be given “the promised land”. We fast-forward several hundred years to the time of Joshua and see that indeed those promises of God were kept, and we see in great detail the evidence of the keeping of those promises. In fact, Joshua himself says in his farewell speech to the people that “Not one of the good promises of God has failed.” They all have been fulfilled.
Therein, I think, is a lesson for us. Every single word in those chapters screams to anyone who will listen the promise-keeping nature of Jehovah. Every detailed description, every boundary description, every city name tell of the provision of the God of the universe for His people. It becomes personal when land boundaries are described. It becomes intimate when specific cities are named and when specific families are given specific places in fulfillment of promises made long ago to an ancestor.
Stay with me here. How do we know but what some portion of our lives right here, right now, are the fulfillment of a promise God made to one of our ancestors? How do we know but what one of our great-great-grandparents (or some such ancestor) prayed for us and that God has honored (and is honoring) that prayer in our lives right now? I know that the descendants of Abraham knew well the promises Jehovah made to their father Abraham. We don’t know who has prayed for us in the past, or present, or even the future (time is irrelevant to God) and has “availeth much” according to James in the New Testament.
Have you seriously considered praying for your descendants? Have you asked God to intervene in the lives of those to come after us so that they may live in peace and follow the way of God fully? I admit that I have never thought of such a thing, although I’ve done plenty of thinking and even some mild worrying about my children, grandchildren, and those who will come after them. Why not give those thoughts and worries to the One who will be there and can (and will) fulfill the fervent prayers of an ancestor.
It’s not an easy read. The names of the cities and landmarks have been translated into English from Hebrew. And although many of the names probably have some kind of meaning attached to them, I haven’t a clue what that might be and so don’t relate well to the names.
But it’s worth it to work through those middle chapters. The writer and compiler(s) thought it important to outline very specifically what the borders were for each tribe, which cities were given to the Levites, and which cities became cities of refuge. The fact that these writings are included in the Jewish canon, and by extension the Christian canon, causes us to stop and think about the relevance of these chapters to us. We did not inherit any of the land. The names have little meaning to us. What could possibly be so important to Christians in these several chapters?
The beginning of this saga rested with Abraham and God’s promise to him that his descendants would be blessed and that they would be given “the promised land”. We fast-forward several hundred years to the time of Joshua and see that indeed those promises of God were kept, and we see in great detail the evidence of the keeping of those promises. In fact, Joshua himself says in his farewell speech to the people that “Not one of the good promises of God has failed.” They all have been fulfilled.
Therein, I think, is a lesson for us. Every single word in those chapters screams to anyone who will listen the promise-keeping nature of Jehovah. Every detailed description, every boundary description, every city name tell of the provision of the God of the universe for His people. It becomes personal when land boundaries are described. It becomes intimate when specific cities are named and when specific families are given specific places in fulfillment of promises made long ago to an ancestor.
Stay with me here. How do we know but what some portion of our lives right here, right now, are the fulfillment of a promise God made to one of our ancestors? How do we know but what one of our great-great-grandparents (or some such ancestor) prayed for us and that God has honored (and is honoring) that prayer in our lives right now? I know that the descendants of Abraham knew well the promises Jehovah made to their father Abraham. We don’t know who has prayed for us in the past, or present, or even the future (time is irrelevant to God) and has “availeth much” according to James in the New Testament.
Have you seriously considered praying for your descendants? Have you asked God to intervene in the lives of those to come after us so that they may live in peace and follow the way of God fully? I admit that I have never thought of such a thing, although I’ve done plenty of thinking and even some mild worrying about my children, grandchildren, and those who will come after them. Why not give those thoughts and worries to the One who will be there and can (and will) fulfill the fervent prayers of an ancestor.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
"There's a Stirring"
God, you’ve not promised us a life of ease. You have made it such that we can be content, however. Our work may be difficult. Our lives may not be easy. We may (and do) have what seem to be roadblocks in our way. You, though, make us successful if we persevere, are diligent, develop resolve, display patience, practice industriousness, and maintain tenacity. And you make our service joyful and satisfying.
Israel’s conquest of the promised land was a long, hard row to hoe. Although it’s covered in just a few chapters in Joshua, it took several years, much planning, hard fighting, and a lot of work.
“Do not fear. I will give them into your hand.” So says the One who is the same today as He was then, and forever will be. He was also up front with them and told them that they would not cleanse the land quickly…that it would take time and effort.
Living life takes time and effort. Things won’t come quickly, easily, or without difficulty. Perseverance, diligence, resolve, patience, industriousness, and tenacity are words easier written than done. Israel was not always patient. Israel was not always diligent. Israel did not always persevere. And they ended up paying the price…and did not receive the full measure of the promise of God.
I believe I am being called to continue my service, but in a different venue, on a different stage. How do I know that call is real, and not my longstanding impatience and desire for the greener grass I see on the other side? How do I know I’m not taking a shortcut and trying once again to make things work out the way I want them to work out? How do I know but what I am to continue in the service I am now in?
And how do I know but what I have been brought to this place (to quote Mordecai in the Book of Esther) “for such a time as this”? Why do I feel guilty about the prospect of service that is joyful and satisfying? What is it about my current service that is neither joyful nor satisfying? Shouldn’t I be content with what I am doing?
Borrowing a couple of lines from a song I know, I feel exactly like it says when it comes to my service as a Christian (I know the theme of the song is different). “There’s a stirring deep within me. Could it be my time has come? Is He calling me? Is He calling me?”
Israel’s conquest of the promised land was a long, hard row to hoe. Although it’s covered in just a few chapters in Joshua, it took several years, much planning, hard fighting, and a lot of work.
“Do not fear. I will give them into your hand.” So says the One who is the same today as He was then, and forever will be. He was also up front with them and told them that they would not cleanse the land quickly…that it would take time and effort.
Living life takes time and effort. Things won’t come quickly, easily, or without difficulty. Perseverance, diligence, resolve, patience, industriousness, and tenacity are words easier written than done. Israel was not always patient. Israel was not always diligent. Israel did not always persevere. And they ended up paying the price…and did not receive the full measure of the promise of God.
I believe I am being called to continue my service, but in a different venue, on a different stage. How do I know that call is real, and not my longstanding impatience and desire for the greener grass I see on the other side? How do I know I’m not taking a shortcut and trying once again to make things work out the way I want them to work out? How do I know but what I am to continue in the service I am now in?
And how do I know but what I have been brought to this place (to quote Mordecai in the Book of Esther) “for such a time as this”? Why do I feel guilty about the prospect of service that is joyful and satisfying? What is it about my current service that is neither joyful nor satisfying? Shouldn’t I be content with what I am doing?
Borrowing a couple of lines from a song I know, I feel exactly like it says when it comes to my service as a Christian (I know the theme of the song is different). “There’s a stirring deep within me. Could it be my time has come? Is He calling me? Is He calling me?”
Monday, December 27, 2010
When the Night is Falling
God, you were right there with Joshua and all of Israel as they crossed the Jordan and conquered the land you promised to give them. Even though they told Joshua that you were his God (and by implication not theirs), you were faithful and saw them through to the end.
You then remained with the nation through their many ups and downs…through the period of the judges, the kings, the captivity…until the Offspring of David came and fulfilled your plan.
You weren’t distant. You weren’t aloof. You weren’t uncaring. You weren’t nonchalant. You were intimately involved with the everyday life of each individual, each family, each tribe, and the nation. You completed (or perfected) that intimate involvement with the advent of the Eternal Son on earth.
And that involvement didn't stop there.
So why would I think of you any differently when it comes to your relationship with me? Sometimes (actually, more than sometimes…often) I think you are distant. Aloof. Uncaring. Nonchalant. Sometimes (Often) I think you watch from a distance, and that you have more important things to do than work with me and be concerned about the things I’m concerned about.
Am I being selfish to want you for myself? Is it only a human thing to want a father to revel in his children? Should I be willing to “share” you, even if it means that I feel left out? Is there really enough of you to go around?
Then you put to my thoughts the song “When the Night is Falling”. Oh if I could only make the words live and not just be words on a screen.
Listen on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKSyFOsAp6c&playnext=1&list=PL95C856F854F05B52&index=34
When the night is falling,
And the day is done,
I can hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me.
When the night surrounds me,
All my dreams undone,
I can hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me.
When the night would hide my way,
I will listen until I hear You say…
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
When this life is over,
And the race is run,
I will hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me,
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
–Dennis Jernigan
You then remained with the nation through their many ups and downs…through the period of the judges, the kings, the captivity…until the Offspring of David came and fulfilled your plan.
You weren’t distant. You weren’t aloof. You weren’t uncaring. You weren’t nonchalant. You were intimately involved with the everyday life of each individual, each family, each tribe, and the nation. You completed (or perfected) that intimate involvement with the advent of the Eternal Son on earth.
And that involvement didn't stop there.
So why would I think of you any differently when it comes to your relationship with me? Sometimes (actually, more than sometimes…often) I think you are distant. Aloof. Uncaring. Nonchalant. Sometimes (Often) I think you watch from a distance, and that you have more important things to do than work with me and be concerned about the things I’m concerned about.
Am I being selfish to want you for myself? Is it only a human thing to want a father to revel in his children? Should I be willing to “share” you, even if it means that I feel left out? Is there really enough of you to go around?
Then you put to my thoughts the song “When the Night is Falling”. Oh if I could only make the words live and not just be words on a screen.
Listen on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKSyFOsAp6c&playnext=1&list=PL95C856F854F05B52&index=34
When the night is falling,
And the day is done,
I can hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me.
When the night surrounds me,
All my dreams undone,
I can hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me.
When the night would hide my way,
I will listen until I hear You say…
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
When this life is over,
And the race is run,
I will hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me,
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
–Dennis Jernigan
Friday, December 24, 2010
Remembering the Choirs
I get a little teary-eyed at times, especially this time of year. Oh, there are several things that can set me off; one of them especially. Tonight, I turned on the public station and they had some “long-haired” Christmas music being performed by an orchestra and chorus. They were singing some of the more conventional songs. Among them were the Hallelujah Chorus and O Holy Night.
I used to sing in a choir that met beginning in September and performed a Christmas concert for the community. I also sang in choirs in high school many years ago. We performed many of these “warhorse” pieces, and some others that are lesser known.
I always recall with fondness my participation in those choirs and the joy I had singing some of these songs along with others. We didn’t sound as good as the professionals, but we did our best, and did a pretty good job overall. I even recall my bass part on many of the songs and sing along at times with the pros.
My voice isn’t what it used to be, and I don’t know if I would even qualify for a choir spot, even if it was a smaller community choir. Many people can sing better than I can, and I know that. But it was always a thrill to work with and then perform music such as O Holy Night or some other piece like it, and I relish the memories of those times.
I don’t know what you have been part of over the years that you enjoy recalling, but I hope that you have the same kinds of memories you can tap at times. These tend to keep one grounded and provide perspective and experience. And those things aid us as we tumble through the present tense and these uncertain times.
May the Holy Night and the peace that comes from knowing the Eternal Son and the love of the Father abide with you this holiday season.
I used to sing in a choir that met beginning in September and performed a Christmas concert for the community. I also sang in choirs in high school many years ago. We performed many of these “warhorse” pieces, and some others that are lesser known.
I always recall with fondness my participation in those choirs and the joy I had singing some of these songs along with others. We didn’t sound as good as the professionals, but we did our best, and did a pretty good job overall. I even recall my bass part on many of the songs and sing along at times with the pros.
My voice isn’t what it used to be, and I don’t know if I would even qualify for a choir spot, even if it was a smaller community choir. Many people can sing better than I can, and I know that. But it was always a thrill to work with and then perform music such as O Holy Night or some other piece like it, and I relish the memories of those times.
I don’t know what you have been part of over the years that you enjoy recalling, but I hope that you have the same kinds of memories you can tap at times. These tend to keep one grounded and provide perspective and experience. And those things aid us as we tumble through the present tense and these uncertain times.
May the Holy Night and the peace that comes from knowing the Eternal Son and the love of the Father abide with you this holiday season.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Doesn't Make Sense
The last couple of evenings when I came home from work, I noticed the neighbor kids a couple of doors down outside, playing. Monday, they were in back playing on their rope swing they have in a large tree at the edge of the park. They were doing something else on the ground, but I couldn't tell what. This evening, they were out front, just being kids.
Now, you may not think much of this, and certainly you may think it isn't worth writing about. But it is. Far too many kids spend all of their time indoors with their games/phones/computers. Far too few spend quality time outside interacting with other kids and nature, exercising their imaginations through unstructured play, unimpeded by adults smothering and hovering.
I know times have changed. I know there are bad things that can happen to kids. But I also know that the risk many times is minimal, and the rewards are great. I don't have a lot of sympathy for parents who think nothing of risking their kids in the car as they speed, change lanes, and cut off others just to get to the restaurant/grocery store/church a minute before someone else. Yet these same parents refuse to allow their kids to play outside because a kidnapper might come around. Doesn't make much sense to me.
Now, you may not think much of this, and certainly you may think it isn't worth writing about. But it is. Far too many kids spend all of their time indoors with their games/phones/computers. Far too few spend quality time outside interacting with other kids and nature, exercising their imaginations through unstructured play, unimpeded by adults smothering and hovering.
I know times have changed. I know there are bad things that can happen to kids. But I also know that the risk many times is minimal, and the rewards are great. I don't have a lot of sympathy for parents who think nothing of risking their kids in the car as they speed, change lanes, and cut off others just to get to the restaurant/grocery store/church a minute before someone else. Yet these same parents refuse to allow their kids to play outside because a kidnapper might come around. Doesn't make much sense to me.
The Solstice
OK, so today is the winter solstice. I really look forward to this day, because as I get older, winter, darkness, and cold seem to me to be more and more depressing. I'm much more in tune with growing plants, chirping birds, and lengthening days. And now, for the next six months, the days will be getting longer and the nights shorter. The air will begin to be warmed and the earth, at least in my temperate zone, will awaken from sleep.
Having said that, there is also something to be said for the change of season. I'm not sure what it would be like to live in Hawaii or Equador or on a tropical Pacific island. I understand the weather never varies all that much in some of those places. I'm not certain I wouldn't welcome just a few days of zero-degree weather or strong northerly winds or freezing rain or snow. Yes, we have to cope with temperature extremes in our part of the globe, but there are, I am sure, things to cope with in those parts of the world that don't change.
But when it's all said and done, although the Pacific island might be a good place to visit, or even live, for me the place to be is right here, right now. First, because I believe I was brought here for a reason and a purpose, and I'm where I'm supposed to be. Second, because family and friends are here in abundance and home is (or should be) where loved ones are.
This holiday season, I hope you are able to be with family and friends. I hope that you enjoy the time you spend with others. And I hope that you will always understand that God loves you and that you respond positively to that love in service and devotion to Him.
Having said that, there is also something to be said for the change of season. I'm not sure what it would be like to live in Hawaii or Equador or on a tropical Pacific island. I understand the weather never varies all that much in some of those places. I'm not certain I wouldn't welcome just a few days of zero-degree weather or strong northerly winds or freezing rain or snow. Yes, we have to cope with temperature extremes in our part of the globe, but there are, I am sure, things to cope with in those parts of the world that don't change.
But when it's all said and done, although the Pacific island might be a good place to visit, or even live, for me the place to be is right here, right now. First, because I believe I was brought here for a reason and a purpose, and I'm where I'm supposed to be. Second, because family and friends are here in abundance and home is (or should be) where loved ones are.
This holiday season, I hope you are able to be with family and friends. I hope that you enjoy the time you spend with others. And I hope that you will always understand that God loves you and that you respond positively to that love in service and devotion to Him.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Gifts
I just saw a “60 Minutes” piece on people who have the ability to remember every day of their lives (at least from about age 12 on up) and recite the events of that day as if they happened just yesterday. They interviewed five people, along with a scientist and a researcher. They also went through testing of these people, checking their memories against events of the day to be certain they were correct in their memories. The scientist stated that these people were correct at least 99% of the time, and many times were 100% correct in their recollections.
Imagine being able to recall what you ate for dinner on January 19, 1992. Or who won the World Series in 1977 and several of the plays in that game, along with names of those who participated. Your first date would be as fresh as yesterday.
Of course, bad memories would be just as fresh. A bad accident you may have had. Your breakup with your mate or your stint in the hospital would be fresh as yesterday. Obviously, these people have to cope with some challenging things as they deal with life on a daily basis, yet are able to have near total recall of every day for the past 30 or 40 years.
They are not savants, it is said. They are more “normal” than not, with normal lives and normal behaviors. Science is studying these people to see what indeed is different and whether we can learn anything from their biology.
These people say that they “see” the day in question. Given a date without a year, they say they “scan” through all of those dates and can see snippets of each of those days. Given the year, they zero in on that “playback” and recall based on that. There is no mathematical contortion, they say, and no tricks to memory. It just sort of “plays” in their minds and they see the happenings of those days.
Nor do they think it’s necessarily a big deal for them. And it isn’t, for them. It’s a normal thing they live with all the time. Of course, it IS a big deal for the rest of us. And it provokes more questions than we have answers for very, very quickly.
Although I do not claim to be in the same league with these people, I was reminded when watching this piece of how I discern tones on the musical scale. I have at least a form of absolute pitch. The best way I can describe what I experience is that I “feel” the notes. Each note “feels” different. As I think about the C scale, there is a certain feel that comes to me when I think of C, D, E, and so on. I have attached qualities like soft, hard, warm, cool, etc. to each tone. When I hear a specific tone, I recall the feel and can name the note.
Of course, such a gift has its crosses to bear as well. If I am singing a song in key, I do just fine. But if it’s pitched high or low, many times I have to transpose notes as I go…for example, if the note is B flat and the pitch is a step and a half low, I have to mentally convert that B flat that I see on the music to G (1 ½ steps lower), recall the “feel” for G, then I can sing the proper pitch.
Over the years, I have taught myself to sing much as many others do, with the do re me method, and find myself having to transpose much less now, although when I read music for the first time, I still have to have the right pitch (or within a half step or so of the right pitch); else I get lost easily. Gifts usually come with two sides to them.
Others have other gifts. But all gifts ultimately come from the God who created us all and who wants us to use our gifts wisely and for the glory of God.
Imagine being able to recall what you ate for dinner on January 19, 1992. Or who won the World Series in 1977 and several of the plays in that game, along with names of those who participated. Your first date would be as fresh as yesterday.
Of course, bad memories would be just as fresh. A bad accident you may have had. Your breakup with your mate or your stint in the hospital would be fresh as yesterday. Obviously, these people have to cope with some challenging things as they deal with life on a daily basis, yet are able to have near total recall of every day for the past 30 or 40 years.
They are not savants, it is said. They are more “normal” than not, with normal lives and normal behaviors. Science is studying these people to see what indeed is different and whether we can learn anything from their biology.
These people say that they “see” the day in question. Given a date without a year, they say they “scan” through all of those dates and can see snippets of each of those days. Given the year, they zero in on that “playback” and recall based on that. There is no mathematical contortion, they say, and no tricks to memory. It just sort of “plays” in their minds and they see the happenings of those days.
Nor do they think it’s necessarily a big deal for them. And it isn’t, for them. It’s a normal thing they live with all the time. Of course, it IS a big deal for the rest of us. And it provokes more questions than we have answers for very, very quickly.
Although I do not claim to be in the same league with these people, I was reminded when watching this piece of how I discern tones on the musical scale. I have at least a form of absolute pitch. The best way I can describe what I experience is that I “feel” the notes. Each note “feels” different. As I think about the C scale, there is a certain feel that comes to me when I think of C, D, E, and so on. I have attached qualities like soft, hard, warm, cool, etc. to each tone. When I hear a specific tone, I recall the feel and can name the note.
Of course, such a gift has its crosses to bear as well. If I am singing a song in key, I do just fine. But if it’s pitched high or low, many times I have to transpose notes as I go…for example, if the note is B flat and the pitch is a step and a half low, I have to mentally convert that B flat that I see on the music to G (1 ½ steps lower), recall the “feel” for G, then I can sing the proper pitch.
Over the years, I have taught myself to sing much as many others do, with the do re me method, and find myself having to transpose much less now, although when I read music for the first time, I still have to have the right pitch (or within a half step or so of the right pitch); else I get lost easily. Gifts usually come with two sides to them.
Others have other gifts. But all gifts ultimately come from the God who created us all and who wants us to use our gifts wisely and for the glory of God.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Traditions
We will shortly be leaving to go to my sister’s church building where my family will play and sing Christmas-themed songs, and will conduct a “skit” involving candles and the Christmas story as found in the Bible. We’ve done this in some form or another for several years, now. Sis invites those from her church to come as well. This year, we’ll eat a “crock pot” supper before the services.
Also, this year, Sis has a broken rib due to a fall in a parking lot. She stepped in a hole in the asphalt and tumbled over. I don’t know if the Lortab will allow her to come tonight or not. Initially, she wasn’t going to come, but since most doctors (and this one was no exception) say that you can do about whatever you feel like doing with a cracked or broken rib, if the medicine deals with the pain, she may be there.
This has become a tradition…one of many that we have. Surely, you have them too, and not just at Christmas. There are traditions wrapped around many of the holidays, and other events and times in the life of an individual. Some traditions are shared…others are personal. Sometimes others know about the tradition…sometimes no one knows except the one carrying on the tradition.
Traditions are good. They provide a sense of normalcy. They tend to ground a person and keep them from flying off, so to speak, aimlessly. They bring family and friends together. They promote a sense of belonging and camaraderie. And they many times bring good and altruistic things to pass.
Traditions can hinder as well, if one is inclined to allow them to stifle and quench new ideas and ways of doing things. Not everything new is good, but we won’t know, many times, until we’ve tried them. We can become so bound up in our traditions (Fiddler on the Roof) that we can’t see where reality is taking us.
But today, here’s to a tradition that is good and deserves yet another year of carrying out. There will come a time when I and many others in the family will no longer be able to carry out this or other traditions. The younger family members will carry on, and may well discard some of our traditions in favor of newer ones. So be it. It’s all good.
Also, this year, Sis has a broken rib due to a fall in a parking lot. She stepped in a hole in the asphalt and tumbled over. I don’t know if the Lortab will allow her to come tonight or not. Initially, she wasn’t going to come, but since most doctors (and this one was no exception) say that you can do about whatever you feel like doing with a cracked or broken rib, if the medicine deals with the pain, she may be there.
This has become a tradition…one of many that we have. Surely, you have them too, and not just at Christmas. There are traditions wrapped around many of the holidays, and other events and times in the life of an individual. Some traditions are shared…others are personal. Sometimes others know about the tradition…sometimes no one knows except the one carrying on the tradition.
Traditions are good. They provide a sense of normalcy. They tend to ground a person and keep them from flying off, so to speak, aimlessly. They bring family and friends together. They promote a sense of belonging and camaraderie. And they many times bring good and altruistic things to pass.
Traditions can hinder as well, if one is inclined to allow them to stifle and quench new ideas and ways of doing things. Not everything new is good, but we won’t know, many times, until we’ve tried them. We can become so bound up in our traditions (Fiddler on the Roof) that we can’t see where reality is taking us.
But today, here’s to a tradition that is good and deserves yet another year of carrying out. There will come a time when I and many others in the family will no longer be able to carry out this or other traditions. The younger family members will carry on, and may well discard some of our traditions in favor of newer ones. So be it. It’s all good.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Good For Her
An unidentified Dayton, Ohio area woman came to the aid of a police officer along the side of a highway as he was wrestling with the driver of a vehicle he had pulled over because of a broken headlight. The officer asked the man to step out of the car. The man stepped out, then began fighting with the officer. He began to reach for the officer’s pistol when a woman came from nowhere and started beating the man on the head, making it possible for the officer to gain the upper hand in the fight.
About that time, police help arrived, and they were able to subdue the man, who was wanted on several warrants. The police do not know the name of the woman, where she came from, or why she helped.
Good for her.
About that time, police help arrived, and they were able to subdue the man, who was wanted on several warrants. The police do not know the name of the woman, where she came from, or why she helped.
Good for her.
Saturday, December 04, 2010
The Thought of One Mind Leaping to Another
Sometimes it seems like a chore to write, knowing that social networking apps are much more likely to gain visitors than the “old fashioned” blogs of yesterday. However, I’m kind of a yesterday kind of person, and have often said that I write for myself as much or more than for anyone else. I’ll never be a great writer, and certainly won’t sell what I write, but seem to enjoy seeing black pixels become letters which form words that communicate a thought. There’s something magical in that, if you just stop to think about it for a minute.
And maybe that’s why I enjoy this kind of thing. It’s a real way to make magic happen. I arrange black pixels on a white background in such a way that I communicate a thought (intangible, yet real) to you…one mind communicating with another. Let’s see. How did that verse go in “For Heaven’s Sake”? “Just so, we communicate, you and I, the thought of one mind leaping to another, given shape and form and substance…” Now, if that’s not magical, I don’t know what is.
Think about it. I can enter your mind, and you into mine, just by the proper arrangement of black pixels on white background, or by the correct arrangement of sounds emanating from my vocal cords, which strike your ears and are processed as intelligence. Of course, there are many more forms of communications…facial expressions, actions, the five senses, and so on. And different people may be able to communicate better one way than another.
So is there communication that does not involve the five senses? Is there “something” there which imparts information that doesn’t use the normal pathways? Call it intuition. Call it supernatural. Call it paranormal. Call it spiritual. Call it whatever you will…does it exist? And if it does, but does not use the five senses to manifest itself, how do you know it exists?
It’s like the old Christian song, “He Lives” by Alfred Ackley. The last line says, “You ask me how I know He lives. He lives within my heart.” I suppose that’s OK, but it really doesn’t do much for me to answer that question. I could truthfully (as far as I can know and experience) say that many things live in my heart. My Dad lives in my heart. A couple of my good friends who have now departed live in my heart. So do my sons, my wife, and others. Love, jealousy, anger, envy, kindness, faith, and other things live in my heart. How could you refute that statement? And just what does that mean…”live in my heart”?
Besides, when it comes to Jesus Christ, which is what that song is about, I’d much prefer to think of Him living in reality and fact…not just in someone’s heart. The bodily resurrection of Jesus is indeed the crux…the cornerstone…the foundation of the Christian faith. That song doesn’t go nearly far enough to make that reality.
Well, I got off track a little and started preaching. But you get the idea. Words are just one form of communication, but very powerful indeed. The very nature of the nature of mankind demands some form of communication, imperfect and prone to misunderstanding though it be. May we continually perfect the tools we use to cause “the thought of one mind (to leap) to another.”
And maybe that’s why I enjoy this kind of thing. It’s a real way to make magic happen. I arrange black pixels on a white background in such a way that I communicate a thought (intangible, yet real) to you…one mind communicating with another. Let’s see. How did that verse go in “For Heaven’s Sake”? “Just so, we communicate, you and I, the thought of one mind leaping to another, given shape and form and substance…” Now, if that’s not magical, I don’t know what is.
Think about it. I can enter your mind, and you into mine, just by the proper arrangement of black pixels on white background, or by the correct arrangement of sounds emanating from my vocal cords, which strike your ears and are processed as intelligence. Of course, there are many more forms of communications…facial expressions, actions, the five senses, and so on. And different people may be able to communicate better one way than another.
So is there communication that does not involve the five senses? Is there “something” there which imparts information that doesn’t use the normal pathways? Call it intuition. Call it supernatural. Call it paranormal. Call it spiritual. Call it whatever you will…does it exist? And if it does, but does not use the five senses to manifest itself, how do you know it exists?
It’s like the old Christian song, “He Lives” by Alfred Ackley. The last line says, “You ask me how I know He lives. He lives within my heart.” I suppose that’s OK, but it really doesn’t do much for me to answer that question. I could truthfully (as far as I can know and experience) say that many things live in my heart. My Dad lives in my heart. A couple of my good friends who have now departed live in my heart. So do my sons, my wife, and others. Love, jealousy, anger, envy, kindness, faith, and other things live in my heart. How could you refute that statement? And just what does that mean…”live in my heart”?
Besides, when it comes to Jesus Christ, which is what that song is about, I’d much prefer to think of Him living in reality and fact…not just in someone’s heart. The bodily resurrection of Jesus is indeed the crux…the cornerstone…the foundation of the Christian faith. That song doesn’t go nearly far enough to make that reality.
Well, I got off track a little and started preaching. But you get the idea. Words are just one form of communication, but very powerful indeed. The very nature of the nature of mankind demands some form of communication, imperfect and prone to misunderstanding though it be. May we continually perfect the tools we use to cause “the thought of one mind (to leap) to another.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)