Reminiscing

 As we get older, I think many of us begin to think more about times past and gone, and a little less about the future.  I think that’s normal, and is not in any way weird or out of the ordinary.  We especially think about events and times in our lives which at the time may have seemed like nothing, but in hindsight were pivotal in some way or another…a chance encounter with someone…our decision to go to work for this person or that company…our move to a certain neighborhood or city…the subjects we studied in school, or any number of other decisions and events that have come our way in life in times past.

More often than we’d like to think, those things that seemed trivial and of no importance ended up being of great importance in life.  Perhaps one day we decided to take an alternate route into work and something happened that would not have happened otherwise which gave us a new direction in life.  Maybe we made the decision to get some minor medical issue checked out, which turned into finding out about a serious condition that had just begun and could be easily treated.  Or we could have made a phone call, applied for a certain job, sent an email, or done one of any number of things which, although they seemed routine, in their own way caused a great shift in our trajectory in life.  And we tend as we get older, I think, to put some of these seemingly random and trivial events into some kind of story which results in our being who and what we are today.

As you’ve probably guessed by now, in my mind I’ve been doing that kind of “putting together” of those seemingly random events over the past few years.  I sometimes find myself awake at an odd hour of the night putting events and happenings together from my past that make sense now, but then were just random things that occurred.  It’s utterly amazing that if any one of thousands of decisions and events of past life had occurred differently, in all probability I would not be where I am today, and would not be with the woman who is my wife today.  I would have different friends.  My relationship with my family would be different.  I would have different children and grandchildren…or perhaps none at all.  I might well be living in a different place, doing something different, or perhaps would already be dead and gone.  It’s really mind-numbing to plumb through even one aspect of one’s past, connecting the dots of various events and decisions, and realizing the incredible significance of that decision or that certain event as it pertains to who and what I now am.

In looking at all of this, I am left with a question that countless people have asked before me and will continue to ask as time goes on.  Did all of these things happen randomly, and just happen to work out the way they did?  Or has there been some force or intelligence behind it all, encouraging, leading, and guiding these things?  Is there some grand scheme for my life, and for the lives of everyone else, or are we just playing with random chance in life?

I confess I don’t know with certainty that there is an answer to those questions…at least an answer that we can understand, comprehend, and prove.  It seems so unlikely that all of these events, situations, and decisions in my life could have been sheer chance; yet it is equally unfathomable that chance could possibly have brought me to the place where I am today.

Chance is just that…chance.  There is no intelligence in chance.  Chance has no mind…chance has no thoughts…chance has no motives.  There is no overriding purpose in chance.  There is no morality or sense of “oughtness” in chance.  Chance is incapable of being concerned with the individual, cannot validate the individual as something of value, or long for the good of an individual…or for the world for that matter.

Yet to consider a being…God, if you will…who orchestrates, nudges, encourages, plans, leads, and loves individuals to the extent that at least some of what occurs in life does so at His bidding, is equally unfathomable and unexplainable.

I would think, however, that the truth has to be one of those two situations…either sheer chance or a god-like being who operates within the universal order, but is not part of that universal order.

As a practicing Christian, I choose to believe in the God of Noah, Abraham, Jacob, David, Peter, Paul, and the others I find in the Holy Bible.  I don’t, in that belief, pretend to understand how He works in my life and in the lives of others.  Nor do I believe that literally every move I make is somehow orchestrated by Him and I am no more than a puppet on strings doing his bidding.  But I can’t even remotely begin to fathom the idea of chance bringing me to where I am now…that would, in my opinion, require much more faith on my part than believing in the God of the Universe.

I don’t know about you.  You may not do much “reminiscing,” about things of the past.  Or maybe you do.  Nor do I know whether you believe in chance or in a supreme being who is living and active in the world and in your life.  I would ask you, however, to carefully consider the evidence…consider your life…your history…and the role that chance may have played in it…or that God may have played in it.

I think if you’re thinking reasonably and rationally, you’ll come to much the same conclusion as I have…that there indeed is a God who is living, active, and works in the world and in the lives of his people, including me and you.

 

Blessings.

Max

 This past Saturday was a perfectly normal day in our household.  We were thoroughly ensconced in our home out of the bitter cold and wind, taking the day easy, as the latest polar vortex was screaming outside .  The cold had come into the Great Plains a couple of days before, and we weren’t too eager to get out into it.

As we were watching an NFL game on the TV, we got a call from Laura, our daughter-in-law, telling us that they had taken their house cat Max to the emergency veterinary clinic.  The news wasn't good.  Max, a 17 year old cat, rescued from a shelter as a youngster, and who had been with the family from the beginning, wasn't going to get better.  His organs were shutting down, and he had not long to live, even with intensive and expensive intervention.

Rachel, our oldest grand, came into the family about the same time as Max.  All the kids have ever known was Max the house cat.  Mild-mannered, Max allowed little kids to pull his tail, grab him, and love him in the ways that little kids sometimes do.  When he had enough of their play, he just disappeared somewhere until a better time.  He became very adept at being on the floor in the middle of a lot of feet, but seldom being stepped on…he developed some really good moves while navigating the crowds of kids and grown-ups.  And later on, he could often be found on the back of the sofa or on someone’s lap, just cooling his heels and looking wise.  Max was the epitome of calm in the storm of six kids and two adults in the same house.

This was going to be a tough rest-of-the-day, because wee knew that Max wouldn’t be coming back home.  Tough on the grand kids.  Tough on Laura and Scott.  Tough on us all. 

Scott and Laura left Max at the clinic where they had taken him and received news they didn’t want to hear, while they went back to the house to break the news to the kids.  Just before they left the clinic, they called and told us.  We volunteered to go out to the house and be with them when they let the kids know.  We bundled up against the cold and wind, and got to the house a few minutes before Laura and Scott, telling the grands once we were there that we came out to watch them until their parents got back.

In a few minutes, Laura and Scott came home.  We gathered around the dining table, and the news was broken to the kids.  It didn't take long for the kids themselves to be broken.  We worked through the news about Max for the next 30 minutes or so around the table.  Any of the kids who wanted to see Max one last time could go back with us to the clinic, but if one or more wanted to stay home, we would stay with them.  All wanted to go.  Son Michael and grand Estella had come down from Hutchinson after hearing the news to be with everyone too.  I'm grateful they chose to come and support us all.  So we gathered our coats, our favorite comfort stuffed animals, etc., and went to the clinic.

At the clinic, there was a “family” room we could use to say our good-byes to Max.  They brought him in and we spent a good 45 minutes or so with him...with Scott holding him.  Each of the kids got to sit next to him for a time.  We talked.  We cried.  We wiped tears.  We held.  We even laughed from time to time.

Finally, Scott was ready.  The veterinarian came in, told us what she would be doing, and carried it out.  Max went peacefully over the rainbow bridge, held and stroked and loved by his family.  They decided to take Max home and bury him on the family property.  The clinic prepared a bag and a box for Max, took his paw prints to give to the family, and we started out for home.  It was over.

I tell this story to say that even though Pat and I knew Max very well, he wasn't our cat...his family was Scott and Laura and kids.  Yet I felt pretty much drained a couple of hours after coming home from the clinic.  These things take an emotional toll even on those of us who are a little more detached from the situation than others and provide support for the grieving.  I can't imagine how the veterinary staff emotionally handles these things.

By the way, they (the staff) did great.  Caring.  Communicating.  Compassionate.  I have nothing but praise for them and for the physical facilities, which had “family” rooms for these kinds of things, televisions, crayons, etc to keep the younger kids occupied, and water, snacks, and restrooms for us if needed.

On the way home from the clinic, I told Pat that what we did...being with the family...was important tonight.  I think it mattered that we were there.  I think it mattered that we cared.  I think it mattered that Uncle Mike and Cousin Estella came down from Hutchinson.  I think it mattered that we were grieving along with them.

The days will go on.  Max is buried on the home place and will forever be in the hearts of those of us who were his family.  These things are never easy.  But in this broken creation, they are necessary...until the Day all death will be abolished forever.  As the song says, “What a day…glorious day…that will be.”

 

Blessings.

The Blessing of Music

 In early 2021, I heard of a CD by Carrie Underwood that was about to be released.  The CD was a collection of older hymns that she compiled, arranged, and sang.  The CD is titled “My Savior.”  There are thirteen songs recorded there, including “Softly and Tenderly”, “Blessed Assurance,” and others.  I waited until the CD was released, then ordered it.  When I received it, I put it in the CD player of my pickup.  It is still there in the player, and in fact has been the only CD in the player since it was first put there almost three years ago.

I played it continually for the first year or so, with breaks only occasionally to listen to classical music on the public radio station.  I listen to it a little less often now, but still have it active in the player about half of the time I’m in the pickup, alternating with classical music on the radio.

I’ve often wondered why I many times would turn off the classical station and start the CD from where it left off.  I’ve wondered what it is about that CD that brings me to want to hear it again for at least the two hundred and forty second time.  I’m not a country music fan.  Ms. Underwood can rightly be branded a country music singer.  I’m not necessarily smitten with Ms. Underwood, either.  The only thing I have left is the music itself…not necessarily the way it has been arranged and sung, although those things have, in my mind, enhanced the messages of the songs.  It’s the words that go along with the “enhanced” musical score and go along with Ms. Underwood’s voice and emotion that is palpable in her singing.  It’s the words.  It’s the message.

 

“Come home.  Come home.  Ye who are weary, come home.”

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.”

“Just as I am, without one plea; but that thy blood was shed for me.”

“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.  Because He lives, all fear is gone.”

“Great is thy faithfulness, O God my Father.  Thou changest not…thy compassions they fail not.”

“He sought me and bought me with his redeeming blood.”

“Jesus loves me; this I know.’

 

The words of these hymns are as close to timeless as words can be.  And dare I say that many of the words of these songs are truly inspired…inspired by and through the work of the Spirit of God moving in the hearts and minds of the authors…authors such as Will Thompson, John Newton, Bill & Gloria Gaither, Thomas Chisholm, Anna Bartlett Warner and others.  Words that in turn can inspire, comfort, instruct, and bless.

This CD and these hymns can calm my stress, relieve my anxiety, and make me a better driver.  They can prepare me for what may be a rough day at work.  They can encourage me to think beyond the here-and-now.  They can bring to light a reality that transcends any obstacles which may appear in my day.

And sometimes, they just make a good alternative to the radio.  Sometimes I will flip through the stations I’ve put on my radio buttons just to hear the noise coming out of those channels.  Some may be in the middle of a ten-minute commercial break.  Others may be playing some kind of modern noise to which I cannot relate.  Still others may be in a “newstalk” time where someone is raving about the world ending as we know it if this politician gets his or her way.  Or they’re spouting some kind of conspiracy theory or selling a book.

It is then that I switch to the CD and take comfort in a God who is always there, knows exactly what’s happening, knows what he’s doing with His creation, and has promised me a future with him.

I don’t know about you.  Maybe music doesn’t spiritually move you to any great extent.  Maybe it does, but it isn’t hymns…instead, it may be music like Handel’s Messiah or southern gospel.  Maybe it’s music like what is found on Light 99 FM.  Everyone is different, and everyone has their own way of approaching God, appreciating God, and communing with God.  For me, the CD we’ve been talking about, along with some other forms of spiritually-based music are one of the primary ways I connect with the God of the universe.

What is your connection?  How do you approach God?  What part, if any, does music play in your relationship with him?  Humanity has been given a marvelous gift…the gift of music…the gift of poetry…the gift of authors and composers who have been inspired in some way by the Spirit of God to create.

 

May God bless you in the coming days.

Prayer

 Good morning, and welcome.

 I’m not sure at this point what my topic for this Thursday Thought will be.  There are so many things rattling around in my head, and none of them are settling in right now for a cohesive thought.  There’s a lot going on in the world, just as there always has been.  However, in today’s world, we are exposed to a lot more of it than we were just a few decades ago.  We get instant news, instant commentary, and instant conspiracy theories.  And those things come at us several different ways…many times now through social media and the Internet.  Television, radio, and print make up a lot of the remainder, with personal interaction making up a small part.

News organizations have reporters and photographers embedded in much of the world.  I was reading an article on the recent bombing in Iran conducted by the United States and coalition forces which killed a leader of a militant group there.  The report spoke of an Associated Press photographer in Iran who was allowed to photograph the results of the bombing.  I can’t imagine being a member of the press in a place like that.  The stress level must be about 18 on a scale of 1 to 10.

We can know much about what’s going on in China…Argentina…Australia…The Sudan…Israel…Great Britain…Russia…Canada…and any other place in the world you’d like to name, just be doing a little searching on line.  And of course, Washington DC is always in the news in some form or another, as well as various state capitals, and even sometimes the city halls of larger cities.

It can all be so overwhelming, especially when we realize that there is nothing we can do to change things.  We have no say in whether or not another bombing will take place in Iran.  We cannot in any way shape the Israel/Hamas war.  We have no access to our elected senators and representatives, and certainly we don’t have the ear of the President.  We’d be lost in Topeka trying to make our way through the jungle of state government.  And we even have difficulty contacting our city council person, county commissioner, or our mayor in any meaningful way.

I think the combination of so much news and information…most of it telling us that something bad is going on…and our inability to do anything about it in any meaningful way eats on us as well.  Our stress level goes up.  Our uneasiness increases.  We become fearful of the next thing to happen.  We become hooked on news cycles and search for news outlets that slant the news in ways that we like, so that we can better manage the stress.

We align ourselves with people and groups that appear to have answers, or at least have the ear of those who are making the decisions.  Most often, however, these people and groups have no answers, but our joining their rhetoric makes us feel better…makes us feel like we are doing something…anything to reduce the stress and fear.

And then, to cap it all off, when we drive in downtown Wichita, we see a woman bent over under a load of things she’s carrying, disheveled, dirty, and unhoused…going from who knows where to who knows where.  She is one of hundreds who have no place to call home, and countless more who are couch-surfing or rooming in with relatives or friends.

The unhoused woman is a microcosm of a society that is ill.  In addition to homelessness, drug addiction, violence, mass shootings, lack of health care, too many incarcerated, too many who are hungry, and other ailments plague us as we make our way through life and living.  These are things that we can see…that we can experience…right here at home.  And we feel helpless here, too.  There is so much violence.  So much addiction.  So much homelessness.  So much hunger.

It rapidly gets to the point that we just check out.  We become numb.  We just try to get through the day.  We ensconce ourselves in a sort of cocoon, just in order to survive.  We become depressed.  We see therapists.  We medicate ourselves, either legally or illegally.  Is it any wonder we are the way we are?

I’m not going to leave you in a state of depression, though.  Yes, the problems are real.  Yes, we have real issues in society and in the world.  It is correct also that we seemingly don’t have any control over any of this…that the world is running amuck.  However, as Christians, there is something very powerful that we can do.

In the New Testament book of James, we read this:  “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.”

Paul the apostle tells Timothy to “Pray for kings and others in power, so we may live quiet and peaceful lives as we worship and honor God.”

These are just two of the many places in both the Old and New Testaments where we either are instructed to pray, or find examples of people who prayed.

Prayer does two things.

First, prayer puts us in touch with someone who, unlike us, is able to do something about whatever situation about which we have a concern.  If we as Christians truly believe in an all-powerful God who continues to be living and active in His creation, our prayers connect us with that God in a powerful way.

Second, through prayer, we can reach beyond any barrier to directly affect the outcome of any given situation in the world today.  We don’t have to travel to Gaza, Iran, or China to affect some situation.  We can go there in prayer, bypassing all of the barriers that are in our way.

And I’ll give you a third point.  Prayer reduces our anxiety and calms our fears.  Prayer gives us peace and contentment, even in the world we live in today.  Prayer is the great healer.

Well, I never did get to a real topic for this Thursday Thought, so I’ll close with this:  this new year, if you don’t already do so, take even a minute or two out of every day to engage in prayer.  Reach out to the One who can do immeasurably more than we can ask or even think.

 

Blessings,