All About Perspective

From a Facebook friend who lives in Minnesota.  I’m reprinting it with her permission in my blog just as she wrote it.  Thanks so much, Wendy, and may the words of the last paragraph come to you and your family now and in the year to come.

Due to a kitchen and living room flooring/painting project started three weeks before Christmas, yesterday was my first opportunity to make my shopping trip to St. Cloud. Many nights we'd worked until midnight peeling wall paper border or painting, cleaning up the day's mess; whatever the task at hand was. On the 14th of December after getting off work and eating our typical fast food, I assumed my place back up on the ladder peeling minute strips of paper off the wall. I was feeling pretty frustrated and "woe is me" - I was really missing out on the "Normal Christmas Season". You know, putting the tree up, baking cookies, looking for and wrapping the gifts, going to Christmas plays and concerts. And then, it really hit me in the heart. That day in Connecticut, twenty children and six adults were taken from their families. I understood right then that those families affected had Christmas gifts under the tree for those sweet little children. Tags with their names written on, waiting for Christmas. They would never be opened by the gift's intended recipient. Those families were now contemplating having to plan funerals instead of Christmas vacation play dates.

Right then on the ladder, perspective meant EVERYTHING. I whispered a prayer for the victims' families and thanked God that my little family was alive and well, looking forward to being together over the holidays. It was humbling. Being connected to the internet or watching 5 minutes of TV makes it hard to get past "the noise" of retailers wanting you to feel as though a happy, memorable Christmas won't happen unless you buy this or that. The older I get, I realize how important people in your life are. That at any moment, for whatever reason (sickness, an accident, etc.) someone can be taken from you.

Last night as I drove home from St. Cloud listening to Garrison Keillor's Christmas show, I admired so many beautiful Christmas light displays on highway 23. Stretching out into the distance were sparkle lights on roof lines that I would never had noticed otherwise. The air was a crisp 28 degrees and the snow sparkled on the ground. The music, the lights, the snow; I felt happy, content and thankful. Still, I was very aware that Christmas is not the same experience for everyone. Many are hurting; my own brother just lost his wife of 43 years on the 20th of December. My heart is aching for him and I'm sure the joy of the holidays is eluding him as he grieves her passing.

If you have all your loved ones gathered around you this holiday season, enjoy and love them. If you know of someone who has suffered a loss or is alone, call them or visit them. We all have different experiences and realities to deal with.

To me, it's all about perspective.

May the God who created heaven and earth, who has blessed you beyond what you can imagine, be watching over you and your family. May you feel His love now and through the entire year. Serve Him by serving others and may He be glorified in your actions. Merry Christmas.

Where Do We Go?

I'm printing the same blog post in my personal and my work blogs this week.

These past several days have not been good ones for humanity.  In addition to the “normal” amount of killing and carnage that takes place, we learned of another mass shooting in Connecticut as well as the shooting of two police officers in Topeka, KS.

First, some quick statistics regarding the “normal” killing and carnage (some numbers are rounded):

1.8 million deaths from violence annually world-wide.

57,000 children die violently annually, mostly from abuse.

4,000 women in the U.S. die from domestic violence annually.

2,500 men in the U.S. die from domestic violence annually.

Someone is murdered every 60 seconds in the world.

Someone is killed in a war every 100 seconds in the world.

China accounts for 55% of all female suicides annually.

A disproportionate share of murders (18%) are committed on persons ages 10 – 29 by other young people.

For everyone killed, 15 to 20 are grievously injured as a result of violence.

So what is the response, if any, of the Christian to numbers such as this and to events such as the murders in Connecticut?  Is there a response?  Should there be a response?  Where is God in all of this?  Why is evil such a presence in this world?

I don’t have answers that are any better than the attempts by men and women much more intelligent and learned than I am to answer these questions.  Such statistics and questions haunt us as we search for meaning, purpose, and direction.  Even Christians who appear strong in their faith are caused to question and wonder if their faith really is of value and worth.  Maybe there is no God, or at least a God who cares.  Maybe we’ve been sold a bill of goods.  Maybe, just maybe, the atheist is right and there is nothing beyond this life.

Then we begin to hear trickles from the other side of the coin.  We begin to hear stories of courage, heroism, and faith.  We hear of the “good guys” who, at great risk (and sometimes great sacrifice) willingly confront and eliminate the threat of evil.  We see humanity coming together in sympathy and compassion.  We see families as they cope with the unthinkable, not only coping, but providing support and comfort to others (and to us).  We find people who are desirous (and capable) of making positive change.  We hear timeless words from Scripture.  We feel the breath of God on our souls, giving soothing healing and comfort.  And we renew our faith in those divine promises of a better place and a better life (where there are no tears, sorrow, or death) through music, the written word, communion with our Creator, and fellowship with others.

When all is said and done…when all of the hand-wringing, the tears, the calls to action, the speeches at the memorial services, the unity (even if only temporary) of society…when all of that is finished and done, where are we left?  What do we do?  And where do we go from there?  The Psalmist got it right when he wrote, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!  The Lord of hosts is with us; The God of Jacob is our refuge.”

Handel also got it right in the finale of The Messiah.  The scripture he used is found in Revelation chapter 5.  “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing.  Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb forever and ever.”

Inspired

Yesterday, I participated in the performance of “The Messiah” by the Wichita Choral Society.  I joined the choir in September of this year at the urging of my sister, who also joined the choir.  We both made it into the choir because there are no auditions; anyone who likes to sing and can carry a tune is welcome.

We practiced every Monday evening at a local church.  We were directed by the executive coordinator of fine arts for the Wichita school system.  For the performance, we had a chamber orchestra as well as professional soloists.  To say they were good is an understatement.  The amateur choir was made much better by their participation.

As you may know, this has been on my bucket list for awhile.  Oh, I don’t have a written list.  I do have some things I’d like to get done before Father Time tells me I can’t.  Singing “The Messiah” was one of those.  I thought, however, I’d never be able to do so because of the requirement of auditions for most choirs.  My voice isn’t trained, and I don’t have the range that is needed by many choirs.

We didn’t do all of the movements.  We did those most familiar to the audience, and those that would carry the message through.  Doing all of the movements would have been an all-afternoon experience.  As it was, we performed for almost 2 ½ hours.

To say that my participation in the choir was a thrill is putting it mildly.  I’ve always thought The Messiah was inspired if anything has been inspired since the first century.  Some of the choruses and words still give me goose bumps and render me unable to sing…I just have to listen until I can compose myself.

We’ll do it again this coming Saturday in Pratt.  We’ve been invited to give a performance there at the First Methodist Church at 7pm (just in case you’d like to go).  Meanwhile, enjoy this flash mob’s rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus a couple of years ago.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE&playnext=1&list=PLF7DC0843F6C9F3F7&feature=results_video

Things Sometimes Work Out

I got into the shower Sunday morning, turned on the tap, and adjusted the faucet to where I normally do.  Except this time the water coming out of the shower was cold.  I turned in more hot water, and discovered that the hottest it would get was barely warm enough so I wasn’t uncomfortable in the shower.

Knowing as I showered that the water heater was on the fritz, I thought about possible problems and how I might be able to solve them.  I was hoping the pilot had gone out due to some kind of atmospheric phenomenon, but I also knew that in the years we have lived here, and with all of the windy, stormy, gusty days we’ve had, the light had never blown out on its own.  My gut told me something on the heater was faulty.

After my shower, I went downstairs and lit the pilot.  It stayed lit and I turned on the burner.  Hoping against hope that the pilot going out was just a weird coincidence of some kind, we went on about our business.  Of course, it went out before long, and we spent the rest of the day without hot water, except when I’d go down and light it.  Then it would run long enough to heat the water already in the tank, but would go out after that.

I do this s few times, and reality sets in.  I need to fix the heater, or I need to get a new one.  I can’t go on lighting the thing four or five times a day and waiting for it to heat the water.  Not one to spend money when I don’t need to do so, I was hopeful the only problem would be a thermocouple that was bad.  A thermocouple is a safety device that shuts off the gas should the pilot light go out.  That prevents unlit gas from building up and causing an explosion.  If it goes bad, however, it shuts off the gas when there’s nothing wrong.  That’s what I was hoping.

Monday, I stay home and remove the burner and pilot assembly.  There’s nothing one can tell just by looking whether or not the thermocouple was bad.  I discovered, however, that it was one of the newfangled thermocouples that had an extra piece of electronics hanging on it.  Never having seen this before, I went on the Internet and found out that what I was seeing was a fusible link, an additional safety device.  And of course there was no way the newfangled thermocouple could be replaced with a regular one.

I checked three different places to try finding one of the newfangled devices.  Having no luck, I remembered a place I used to go to when I worked for the nursing home.  They seemed to have things no one else had, and would sell to the general public.  I went there, took in my assembly, and the woman behind the parts counter immediately went to a shelf and pulled a box.  She opened it and there was an exact replacement of the entire pilot assembly, including newfangled thermocouple.

Sixty dollars and about 45 minutes later, the heater was back together heating water.  And it’s been running ever since.  I seemed to have gotten lucky this time, and was able to save a service call and about two hundred dollars in labor.  And we have hot water again.  I know it won’t always happen this way, but sometimes things work out, and I’m glad they did this time.

You Can Find Anything

In the “You can find anything on the Internet” department, this may not be much to you, but I was rather impressed.  Maybe I’m easily impressed, but remember I grew up in an era when phone numbers were four digits long and you had to call the local (and I mean right in the town you were living in) operator to make a long distance call.  And a trip to Wichita, which was only 45 miles away, was maybe a once-a-year thing, and you checked the oil, tires, and radiator hoses in the car before you took off.  If you couldn’t find what you wanted at the local store, you just didn’t buy it.  Or you maybe ordered it out of the Sears, J C Penney, or Montgomery Ward (Monkey Ward) catalogs if they weren’t being used for toilet paper in the outhouse (We DID have a sewer connection, so our catalogs were used for kids to sit on at the table so they could reach things.).

Anyway, the wife and I have had our Buick buggy for about 10 years.  It came with a couple of key fobs, which wore to the point that the hole in them that fit them on our key rings wore through and we could no longer put them on a key ring.  The fobs worked; we just couldn’t put ‘em on our key rings.  So we iced them and used keys.  By the way, the word “fob” has an interesting and varied definition and past.  Google it sometime by putting “define fob” in the search criterion box.

One day, the wife asks if I can somehow fix the hole, maybe by using epoxy or something.  I check it out and decide I can’t do anything with it.  Then I get the brilliant idea to check the Internet to see if someone else had this same problem and what they may have done to fix it, besides going to a dealer and getting a new fob for two and a half prices.

Lo and behold, when I searched, I found a place that sold not only OEM fobs, but also sold OEM fob covers that perfectly matched, down to the name of the manufacturer and part number, our old fobs.  The covers cost about four dollars plus shipping.  I paid I think about twelve dollars all together for two fobs and shipping.

We got them yesterday, and I put the old electronics into the new fob covers last night.  I am now the proud carrier of a fob on my car key ring again!  I am truly impressed with the Internet and the fact that one may indeed purchase almost anything.  I think next I’ll buy some genuine Dead Sea salt.  I hear it’s good for what ails me…

Another Thanksgiving

“Another Thanksgiving down the tubes.”  So said a not-to-be-named brother as he and his family left our house Saturday evening following a day of eating, visiting, card-playing, walking in the park, and whatever else folks did during that time.  He didn’t mean it in a nasty or curmudgeonly way, I’m sure.  It was a long and tiring day for them, as they started it in northern Kansas, then drove back to Wichita and came to our place in time to finish out the day.

Yet in a way, he’s probably more correct than he may know regarding Thanksgivings “down the tubes.”  We all are getting older.  We have had many, many more Thanksgivings in our past than we have in our futures.  And for all we know, we may not have any more in our futures.  So it would seem to me that we would want to make each one count; make each one something to be remembered; make each one genuine and special.  Because we never know whether it will be our last.

Yes, it’s tiring.  We don’t travel as well as we used to.  We don’t have the strength and stamina that we used to have.  It takes more out of us to clean the house, cook the food, set up the tables, and take out the trash.  Gasoline costs more.  Food costs more.  We’re battling more chronic ailments and infirmities.  We like to regress into our ruts more so than we used to do.  And some of us may have to take an hour or so out and nap in the middle of the afternoon just to make it through the day.

God willing, we’ll do it all again Christmas.  We’ll celebrate with the in-laws.  We’ll celebrate with the family.  We’ll try to make schedules fit, possibly having to zip (as fast as old people can zip) from one house to another in time for the celebrations.  We’ll fumble with gifts and ooo and aahh as the grandkids open theirs.  There will be home-prepared food in abundance…some brought in by the guests.  And there will be the traditions that yet another year will help bind hearts and souls together.

And so it goes (to borrow a phrase).  The wise man  said that there is a time appointed for everything.  There is a time to give birth, and a time to die; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.  There is a time for thanksgiving; a time for being together; for enjoying the company of friends and loved ones.  If we are Christians, we recognize that just as we recognize that there is something more…that God has set eternity in our hearts…and we prepare here for that great and unending Thanksgiving feast there in the presence of the God who made us and loves us.