One of Our Own

One of our own teens at our church, Jessica, a nineteen year old firefighter, is battling forest fires in the western part of the US this summer.  Sent off earlier this summer, she’s been in Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, and is now in Idaho.  The fire she is currently working has grown to over 5,000 acres and is barely contained.  The crew was in peril a couple of days ago, but escaped and everyone is OK.  The accompanying photo is a recent one of her on the job.

Firefighting is one of the last occupations to be integrated by women.  And fighting forest fires is one of the last of the last.  Jessica is an inspiration to me, and I hope to all who know about this amazing young woman and what she is accomplishing at such a young age.

I have to stop and think about where I was and what I was doing at age nineteen.  Sadly, I remember all too well that I was in the middle of getting an education and starting a career.  I had no thoughts about serving others; no thoughts about a higher calling; no thoughts about what it meant to make the world a better place.  My only thoughts were staying out of the draft (1969), and not having to move back home because of no job.

I think society has changed in many ways over the years.  I think young people have changed in many ways over the years.  Much of that change is for the better.  Young people are more in tune with society now.  They are more gregarious and interactive not only within their culture, but in the cultures of adults and seniors.  They have a notion of what service means and are not swayed by artificial walls put in their way.  They embrace a dream and find a way to fulfill it.

Yes, there are issues with this generation, just as there are with every generation.  They don’t, by and large, embrace the social and moral norms of us older folks.  They can be loose cannons at times.  Their thought processes are not always as logical and ordered as ours.  And they continue to make the dumb mistakes that we also made when we were that age.

But think of it.  Think of all of the challenges that Jessica faces every day in what she has chosen to do.  Everything from staying healthy to finding  a bathroom spot in the forest.  Constantly on the watch…constantly on guard…constantly getting the backs of her fellow fire-fighters and having her backside covered by others.  It’s tiresome, gritty, dangerous work.  And my guess is that she has, more than once, wondered why she’s where she is doing whatever it is that she’s doing at the moment.

So here’s to Jessica and all like her who dream a dream, seize that dream, and make it happen.  Thank you for your service, your sacrifice, and your example.  And may God bless you and all you work with this summer.

I Am Content

My aunt (my mother’s brother’s wife) is in the hospital in Wichita, having had triple bypass surgery on Monday of this week (it is Wednesday as I write this).  Her grown kids, all four of them, are here and are looking after things.  My uncle is unable to provide for his own care, so they are looking after him as well.

Clara has been Wayne’s caregiver for several years now.  They live in a retirement center in a nearby city, and life hasn’t been easy for either of them lately.  The family is in the process of making some decisions regarding care and living arrangements, as Clara will not be able to care for her husband for the next several weeks/months as she has been used to doing.

Yesterday, about 24 hours after Clara’s surgery, her daughter Lynne had this short conversation with her.  She posted the conversation on her Facebook page.

Me: "Mom, do you need or want anything?"
Mom: "I am content."
Me: (Still learning from my mama.)

OK, look at that again and read it again.  Here is a woman who had her chest cut open, her heart stopped, and severe trauma inflicted on her by virtue of the surgery.  She is facing not being able to care for her husband, having to care for herself, possibly moving to an environment that provides more care, and a host of other issues.  Yet she is content.

I have a question for you.  When was the last time you could truly say that you were content?  Content with your lot in life…your job, your spouse, your living arrangements, your health…etc.  When was the last time you even thought about contentment or wanted to utter the word?  What would it take for you to truthfully want to say that you were content?  More money?  Better job?  Different husband?  Nicer home?  Membership at the country club?  Just what would it be?

I was socked between the eyes when I read Lynne’s comments.  Guilty as charged.  I do not think of myself as being content.  I haven’t uttered that word or even thought about it regarding my lot in life for many, many years (if ever).  I can’t relate to Paul’s comments about being content in whatever situation he is in at the time.  He says it a little more eloquently than I have.  You can read his comments in Philippians 4:10-13.

“I am content.”  Powerful words that belie a powerful message in a powerful way.

Grateful

We’ve been gone the last couple of weeks or so.  First, we were adult sponsors for our teens as they took a VBS and black light puppet show to Topeka for several days.  Then home for a day and back on the road to Colorado for a family reunion at Rocky Mountain Mennonite Camp.  We got home Thursday evening, and have been sort of recovering ever since then.

You know the drill when you’ve been gone.  You give the laundry room a workout; you go to the store and restock milk, fruits and veggies…all of that.  You catch up on emails and messages.  You are glad you’re back in your own bed.  You check on the stuff that’s growing in your flower and veggie gardens.  And you prepare to go back to the grind of work.

We’re doing, and have done all of that.  Monday will be a full day of work for the both of us.  We’ve been to the grocery store, but have a couple of other places to go this weekend.  I’ve counted how much we’ve spent the last couple of weeks, and am preparing for a visit from my Michigan sister later on in the week.  So all in all we’re getting back on track.

Several things have come to mind in the last couple of weeks as things to possibly use as writing material.  As normally is the case, however, most of them will fade in memory and I’ll struggle to remember just what I was thinking or what I wanted to recall.  I never seem to make notes or reminders about things like that, and I always pay for it later on when I can’t remember.

Some things I can recall now might be cleaning up the parking lot at The Bridge, eating with the kids who came to the VBS, having lunch every day at the Rescue Mission, enjoying the good behavior and attitudes of the teens, and the man at the hotel who was working the breakfast area and was soooo far behind in cleaning tables.

Notable moments on the Colorado trip might be the trouble the women had checking us in at the motel in Hays, taking the grandkids to Sternberg Museum, stopping at the Monument Rocks north of Scott City in 100 degree plus heat, the car overheating west of Woodland Park, and the difficulty we had getting acclimated to the altitude.

Other moments would be the bike trip downhill from 9,600 feet into Colorado Springs, the cog rail ride up Pikes Peak, feeding the chipmunks at the camp, the fire and songs on the last night, and the collapsed empty water bottles after we got back to Wichita…collapsed due to the difference in air pressure from there to here.

There are other things, of course.  But these sort of stand out right now.  Whether or not they will ever be fodder for a blog, I don’t know right now.  What I do know is that it has been a great two weeks, and I’m grateful for the opportunities.

I’m also grateful to be back home.

Time Off

I'll be taking a couple of weeks off...see you the mid part of July!

Ordinary, Faithful People

I’m reading a book called “Ordinary Faithful People.”  It’s a Bible study on the book of Ruth.  One of the chapters is a chapter on commitment and serving others.  The author, Robert L. Hubbard, Jr. tells of the faithfulness of Ruth to Naomi and her commitment to her that, “Where you go I will go; where you stay I will stay.”  He relates a story about a woman he knew who dedicated her adult life to caring for her widowed mother, and how unusual and old fashioned that kind of commitment had become.

I’m going to tell you about another woman I know who dedicated her life to caring for her widowed father.  The father was my grandfather and the woman was my aunt.  My grandfather was born in 1870 and lived to the age of 96.  Sol’s life was normal for a person of that era.  He farmed with horses, moved a lot, suffered through drought, storm and disappointment on the Great Plains, but in later years lived a rich, full life due to the care of his daughter, Ella.

Sol’s wife Mary died, we think of complications from the flu and pneumonia, in 1922 or 1923…I can’t recall which right now.  Sol was in his early 50’s and his youngest child was 11 years old.  Ella was a young woman at the time along with her sisters.

I don’t know what prompted her decision, but Ella decided that she would forego marriage, children and a family to care for her father.  The decision wasn’t made lightly, and it caused more than one male suitor great disappointment.

Ella and Sol eventually found a home in southern Kansas on the edge of a small town.  It once had been a working farm, and the three or four acres that remained still had a barn, chicken house, and other outbuildings.  Sol took to raising chickens, and at times other livestock.  They gardened and enjoyed the rural lifestyle as well as the benefits of living in town.

Ella went to work for the Electrolux Vacuum company selling vacuum sweepers.  The only woman salesperson in the Wichita district at the time, Ella not only made a living, but did very well at it.  They were never in want; never in need.  They always had friends, family, adequate resources, and good health.

Both are gone now, and have been so for many years.  Sol died in 1966, and Ella a few years later in 1974.  But the example she set of caring for her dad all of those years to the point that she broke through the glass ceiling of an all male sales force for a vacuum company in order to do so is a compelling one that demands to be appreciated and her servant attitude emulated.

Of course, many people offered their condolences to the family when Ella passed away.  The only one I specifically remember, however, was from a man named George Ball from Wichita, who was Ella’s sales manager for Electrolux.  It had been years since she had sold a vacuum, yet Mr. Ball was touched to the point that he let the family know he cared.

Grateful thanksgiving, Aunt Ella, for your wondrous example of selflessness and service.