Holiday Hope

During the holiday season, there is always at least once when one becomes somewhat reflective and “harks back” to times past and gone.  Sometimes that look back involves family gatherings.  Sometimes it is a trip to a special place.  Sometimes, it is something having to do with the celebration of Christmas itself…participation in a Christmas church drama, the appearance of Santa, or some other memory.

And for some, memories are not always pleasant.  This time of the year tends to cause more stress and strain on families and relationships than other times.  Financial strains are also apparent.  Abuse and suicides seem to increase during this time.  Memories of the holidays are many and varied.

I was laying in bed this morning, not wanting to get up, and my mind wandered a bit to Christmases of times gone in my hometown.  On the radio (I still use an old-fashioned clock radio to wake), they were talking about the fact that years ago, people didn’t decorate much outside with lights.  Oh, there would be a few here and there, but not many.

However, once in a while, someone in a community would go “all-out” and decorate pretty much everything in sight.  And people would flock to see the spectacle.

I recalled one such place for me in my young years.  A man by the name of Johnny Hamilton and his wife (I believe her name was Mary), were an older couple.  They lived in an older home on a relatively large lot in the north part of town.  Their lot was surrounded by an evergreen hedge which Johnny kept trimmed.  And every Christmas, this hedge would be covered, it seemed, with the colored lights of the season.

I can’t remember if he had other things on his place decorated or not.  I only remember the evergreen hedge all lit up.  And we’d pile into the ’54 Ford or the ’56 Thunderbird Wagon and drive by just to see Johnny’s handiwork along with a lot of other folks in the community.

I don’t know how long Johnny decorated his hedge.  If I am correct, he passed away in the early 1970’s.  He may have done it until his passing, or he may not have been able to do it for several years prior.

Whatever the case, the memory of that is burned into my mind, and I’ve thought of that time often in the intervening years.  I don’t know if Johnny knew the influence he would have on my recollections of Christmas and the recollections of others as well.  I don’t know if he decorated his hedge primarily for himself or if he did it for his family or the community at large.  But it was a large undertaking in those days…strings of lights were no more than about 12 to a string, and most of them were the kind that if one goes out, they all go dark.  I don’t know how many hours he spent putting them out and gathering them back in, but it had to be considerable.

So, whatever it is that you do now for the holidays, know that in the mind of someone, that something is being etched into the long-term memory banks, and will be recalled perhaps many years after you’re long gone from the earth.  Just as I recall my first taste of eggnog, which happened during the holiday season, so I recall the lights of Johnny Hamilton and a hundred other memories of long ago.

I don’t long for those days to return, but I do long for the hope of someone fondly recalling something we did over the holidays that comes back year after year in a pleasant memory and a time of peace and joy.

Merry Christmas!

The Calendar Turns

And the calendar turns to yet another Christmas season, along with the New Year holiday and a general slowing down of the normal routine of life…school, work, and the ordinary…in favor of glitter, gifts, travel, baking & cooking, and family get-togethers.  On our part of the globe, the season is also marked by short days, long nights, and in many cases cold and dreary weather.  We are more susceptible to SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) and the effects of being cooped up inside all the time.  Sometimes, that manifests as a kind of depression; sometimes as violence; sometimes it’s masked and no one knows.

I say those things to say this:  If you’re like Charlie Brown in “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” and just don’t feel like celebrating…just don’t feel in the spirit of Christmas, you’re not alone.  Amidst all of the glitter and lights and happiness of the season (and the joy of the season is genuine, no doubt) comes a darker side that is common with mankind and the world.

The world was in the same condition some 2,000 years ago when a baby was born in the city of Bethlehem in what was then Judea.  Whether the actual birth happened at night, like so many believe, or in the daytime is really immaterial.  Whether there were three wise men or more (or less) is immaterial.  Exactly what kind of celestial phenomenon the star was that guided them to the child is immaterial.  And whether 10 baby boys or 100 baby boys were killed by Herod in an attempt to do away with the new king is immaterial.

What is absolutely material is that at that instant, on that day, something changed.  Something changed for the world.  Something changed for mankind.  More than one writer of the Bible talks about that change.  John says it well when he says that, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.  Paul expands on that, and says that even though the Christ “existed in the form of God, he emptied himself…and being made in the likeness of men.”  The angel who visited the shepherds said, “Unto you is born this day in the Cityof David a savior, which is Christ the Lord.

Isaiah said, hundreds of years prior to the actual event, “For unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given.  And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.”  And even Adam and Eve caught a glimpse of the wondrous event when God, driving them out of the garden, told the serpent, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; He shall bruise you on the head, and you shall bruise him on the heel.”

So now, even though there is still a kind of combo platter of emotions, behaviors, and thoughts that come during the holiday season, there is also hope, peace, and true joy for the one who calls upon the name of that baby boy born so long ago, who lived, died, and now lives again.  We can indeed have hope.  We can indeed live with joy.  We can indeed be at peace.  Because he has done for us what we could not do for ourselves…reconcile us to the God of the universe, and cause our adoption as sons and daughters of the Most High God.  Merry Christmas everyone!

With Gratitude

I am posting the following email in its entirety.  The email is from Jennifer White, founder and executive director of ICT S.O.S., a Wichita organization dedicated to the elimination of human trafficking.  Jennifer is a friend of mine, and I’ve done volunteer things for ICT S.O.S. before.  Now, I am mostly a cheerleader for the organization and for my friend.  What she says in this email has resonated with me, and oozes gratitude and humility out of every pore.  I’ve been thinking how I can best let others know of this email, and of the work that is done daily.  This seems to fill that bill.

And Jennifer isn’t alone in making a difference.  There are countless people just like her in Wichita and in Kansas who selflessly dedicate their time, energy, and treasure to make this broken world a better place and to be salt and light in a dead and dark place.

We tend to become cynical when we hear stories of a homeless veteran dying on the street, or a 12 year old girl who has been trafficked into sexual slavery, or a senior citizen who is living in her car because her home is uninhabitable due to deterioration.  We tend to think that nothing is being done and no one is helping.  We lash out at our government for not responding, and call churchgoers hypocrites because they seemingly don’t care.  Or we decry the influx of those from another nation who are looking to the USA for freedom, peace, and the ability to start life anew...wondering why we must help those foreigners when there is so much to be done here.

What we don’t know (in part because we haven’t looked) is that there are many people just like Jennifer.  Some do the work they do as a vocation, such as those police officers in the EMCU (Exploited and Missing Children’s Unit), or the H.O.T. (Homeless Outreach Team) of the Wichita Police Department.  Others volunteer their time in support of groups like the EMCU or the HOT or more well-known organizations such as the Salvation Army or the Kansas Food Bank.  Many are in our public schools mentoring, tutoring, teaching, counseling, and just being a friend to someone.  Some stay in their neighborhood, looking after those who are older and homebound…making sure they aren’t sick, haven’t fallen, or out of food or heat.

Some model a Christian family environment in a home setting for teen girls who have never seen a mom and dad love each other and work together to create and maintain a home.  Others collect food, coats, clothing, or furniture to donate to those without.  And still others provide transportation, donate durable medical equipment, coach a soccer team, visit the hospital or nursing home, or pick up trash in a park. Some volunteer their time to teach those from another culture skills in the English language.  The opportunities are endless.

Some, like Michelle, who is the 24-7 Street Ministry, work primarily alone.  Michelle drives up and down Broadway and associated environs in the middle of the night, looking for prostitutes and street women who would agree to go with her to a safe house and the opportunity of rehabilitation.  Others, like Jennifer, work with a cadre of volunteers and others who provide support and help in every way…from office work to transportation.

So, next time you are prone to cynically look at the state of the world and rue the way it seems to be, remember that there are many who have looked at that same world and have stepped up to do their part…to actually BE the salt and light that you have so far refused to be.

Thank you, Jennifer, for teaching us; for humbling us; for chastising us; for encouraging us; for loving us.  Hopefully, we can be a small breath of the wind beneath your wings, and beneath the wings of others who take seriously the command to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.

I spent the morning in the office tying up a few loose ends before the holiday weekend and this afternoon I'm working from home. Pies cooling on the counter, casseroles baking in prep for tomorrow's big feast and maybe it is the holiday or maybe I'm just sentimental but I can't help but feel grateful.

The rush of year-end, Giving Tuesday, Christmas giving etc. is right around the corner but we'll deal with that later. Today I don't want anything from you. I'm not asking you to donate or volunteer or share a social media post. I just want to say thank you. Deep down in my guts, wanna hug your neck, thank you.

Thank you to the donors, the givers, the do-ers and the sharers. Thank you for serving, sacrificing, caring and showing up. Thank you for trusting our mission, our people and me. Thank you for learning. Thank you for teaching us. Thank you for being patient and grace-filled as we all learn together.

Thank you for loving these kids, adults and the direct service providers that try desperately to make sure they have everything they need to heal and thrive. We post a need, you meet it. We share an opportunity to serve, you show up. Thank you for building a stronger community around and beside our most vulnerable neighbors. Thank you for linking arms and walking side by side- law enforcement, therapists, social workers, medical providers, minivan moms and soccer dads, businesses, churches and schools. It takes ALL of us and time and again you show the world what Wichita is made of in the goodness of its people.

I'm so grateful for each person who has touched this organization in any way. YOU are ICT S.O.S. and I'm so thankful for and blessed by you.

I hope that your holiday is filled with gratitude for the things you have and the people in your lives. I hope your day is graced with warmth and good food and loved ones. And I hope you know that you are appreciated. So very, very much.

With gratitude,
Jennifer

The Holidays

Again, the time comes for what we usually call the holiday season.  Following Halloween, many of us look forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas.  New Year’s Day follows shortly thereafter.  Then it’s somewhat of a grind until spring break and later on in the spring, the Memorial Day three-day weekend.

If the Good Lord allows, this will be my sixty-seventh holiday season.  Of course, I don’t recall the very early ones, and even later on when I can remember, I don’t recall so much any presents I received as I do the relatives who would come visit or that we would go somewhere and celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas.  It seems it was the fact that there would be people…relatives…loved ones around that made the holiday season what it was for me in the past.

And it’s the same now.  Don’t misunderstand.  I enjoy helping prepare and consume the Thanksgiving meal.  And I enjoy receiving and giving gifts at Christmas.  But those things aren’t what are truly important for me.  It’s the togetherness of family and friends that makes the holidays what they are for me.

I am not a social butterfly, even at family gatherings.  I do like to watch, listen, observe, and learn from the others.  I enjoy seeing kids grow and nieces and nephews have families of their own.  Sometimes I have to bite my tongue and not interfere in their raising and training of their kids.  And I have to remind myself that there are many ways of raising children, and that children are all different.  I also have to remind myself that the parents know their child better than I do and know better what to do.

I do take a little more liberty with my own grandkids.  But even there I do my best to hold back unless it is obvious that someone needs to step in and do something.  It’s kind of a tightrope at times, knowing when to step in and when to let go.

We had the family at our place for Thanksgiving yesterday.  That’s a few days before the holiday, but it worked out best for us to do it that way.  It was a lot of work, and we were both tired at the end of the day, but it was well worth it to see everyone and reconnect a little more with some that we hadn’t seen for a little while.

Now the fridge is full of leftovers.  Leftover ham, turkey, and some other assorted, miscellaneous things that didn’t quite disappear yesterday haunt the two refrigerators we have in our house.  We also have a few things that were left here…a sippy cup, a shirt, and a couple other things that eventually will find their way back to who they belong to.  The kitchen has been cleaned up and we’ve done a little laundry today, although there’s more to do.  We’ve vacuumed and managed to find pretty much everything.  So it’s all good after 23 people found shelter at our home yesterday.

I’m not sure what we’ll do Christmas.  I know we’ll be with the in-laws on Thanksgiving Day for yet another meal and time with the other side of the marriage.  Then the calendar hurtles on to Christmas and all that goes with that.  So it will be a busy time for us this year, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Trust your holiday season is filled with grace, joy, and peace.

Grateful Instead

Today is one of those fall days that probably needn’t ever come.  It’s windier than the dickens outside…35 to 50 mph winds out of the west and northwest.  It’s cool, but not freezing.  And since there hasn’t been a killing freeze here yet, all manner of pollen and dander has been stirred up in the wind.  It’s hard to drive down a street; hard to stand outside; hard to walk; and hard to keep from having a headache from the sinus issues.

But I shouldn’t be so gripe-laden.  I’m not indoors; cant hear the wind; am warm; and my headache is moderated by generic Tylenol.  I don’t have to sleep outside tonight, and I’ll have plenty to eat and clean clothes for the morning.

It’s really tough, sometimes, to avoid the complaint party that many others seem to be attending.  We readily chime in with whatever ails us, and whatever might ail us in the future.  And some of us regale the others with stories of long ago and far away when we had to walk 7 miles uphill both ways to a one-room school in all kinds of weather with nothing more for shoes than a couple of pieces of cardboard, etc. etc.

Make no mistake.  There are people today, right outside your door, who are using cardboard for shelter and/or clothing.  There are people today, right outside your door, who will wear the same clothes tomorrow as they did today, and as they have for the past who-knows how many days.  There are people today, right outside your door, who won’t have anything to eat tonight…didn’t have anything to eat today…won’t have anything to eat tomorrow.

This privileged life is one thing I don’t really understand.  Why am I here?  Why am I not “over there?”  What is expected of me because I’m here and not there?  Am I fulfilling that expectation?  If not, what do I need to do?

It is said that Joseph Stalin prohibited the showing of “The Grapes of Wrath” from being shown in the Soviet Union.  If you know the film, you know the intent of the film makers was to deptct the downside of American life in the 1930’s.

Why, you may ask, would Stalin want to keep the citizens of the Soviet Union from seeing the downside to American life?  The movie also showed that even the poor had vehicles and could go wherever they wanted to go…which was not the case in the Soviet Union.  Stalin considered that truth to be too “political.”  (Credit Lloyd Billingsley, The Seuctive Image: A Christian Critique of the World of Film)

What is one person’s poverty is riches for another.  What is difficult and tough for one is just what another wishes for.  We choose not where we were born or to what culture we were born into.  But we do choose what we will do with what we have been given.  We do choose how we will be caretakers of those things that have been endowed to us.

The next time you feel like griping or complaining, think of those folks in "The Grapes of Wrath" and how their poverty appeared to be wealth to another culture…so much so that the government stepped in and refused to allow them to view the film.  Then decide whether you are still justified in your complaint.  You might just find that you need to be grateful instead.

Last Leg of the Birthday Day Trip

We didn’t spend any time in Olpe.  The original plan was to have lunch at the Chicken House with our niece and as much of her family as we could round up, but she was otherwise occupied that day.  So we drove the 10 miles or so to Emporia and out the west side on Highway 50.

That road eventually goes to Newton, although that wasn’t necessarily my destination.  It is an enjoyable trip through some really pretty country, and since the road has been reconstructed, is a better highway than the death trap it used to be.

Our trip on Highway 50 was uneventful, except for our stopping at two places.  One was one of those “historical marker” signs that one sees once in a while.  This marker was on the roadside a couple of miles east of Cottonwood Falls.  It talks of the “bluestem pasture region” of the area…otherwise noted as the Flint Hills of Kansas.  A couple of items of note from that marker are that the bluestem region covers about 4 ½ million acres, and is home to a million head of cattle each grazing season.  The marker sits at a place where one can gaze out on hundreds and hundreds of acres of the hills.  Quite a sight!

We also saw a sign on the roadside that said, “Clements Stone Arch Bridge” and pointed to a county road that went over a railroad and through what was left of the little town of Clements, Kansas, in western Chase County.  We decided to stop and see the bridge.

We went a mile or so down the road, and found a sign pointing to a path not much more than a wagon-path through a field.  We went that way, and found a wonderful structure, no longer used, that spanned the Cottonwood River, and was in use until several years ago when the road that went over it was re-routed and a new bridge was built about 500 yards east of the old bridge.  The bridge is in some disrepair, and good people are looking to find funds for its restoration.  But it is a marvelous testament to the ingenuity and skill of folks long past and gone to build something of this kind on the prairies of Kansas, using what they had available to them (limestone).

Clements Stone Arch Bridge...looking to the Northeast

We took a few photos of the bridge, then headed on down the road.  As we went on, we decided to stop in Newton at the Breadbasket restaurant, where we have eaten before.  It’s just south of the rail crossing on the main north-south street downtown.  We pulled up a little after 1pm and went in.

Normally, we go in the evening when they have a buffet.  This day, we ordered at the register.  As it was my birthday, I ordered a hot beef sandwich…something I don’t order because it has way too many carbs and not enough (or any) veggies.  I had a choice of a half or the whole thing.  Thinking of normal hot beef sandwiches I’d had, I ordered the whole.  Oh, my!

It came on a large plate with about three times the beef, potatoes, and gravy that I was expecting.  And the bread was a huge bun…not sliced bread.  I managed to down it, however, as it was very, very tasty.  But I knew I wouldn’t be having anything much for the evening meal that day.  In the first place, I didn’t need it after that.  In the second place, I wouldn’t want much anyhow!

We then got back in the car and came home in an uneventful last 30 minutes or so of our day trip.  What a wonderful way to spend some time with the wife of my youth and seeing things that make me thankful that Kansas is my home…at least in this life.