Nickel Cokes

Today marks the first day of the summer schedule for the girls. My, my, we have a lot to do this summer. Let’s see…there are classes (violence prevention, nutrition, math and reading tutoring, yoga, etc), volunteer work at the nursing home down the street, recreation time, R & R, and other things on the schedule. Add to that the summer camp and mission trip and the summer is rather filled, I think.
Some of the girls enjoyed the week between school and the summer schedule with not a lot to do. Others had a hard time keeping occupied. I know that’s sort of an age-old problem, but I guess my question is why don’t I seem to have a hard time finding something to do?
I think when we get older, one of two things happen. Either we fill our schedules faster, or we work at them slower. In either event, we have more undone stuff staring us in the face than many kids do nowadays. I long for the days I remember when I whined to my mother that I had nothing to do and the summers seemed to last forever.
We had two acres on the edge of town back then (in the late 50’s and early 60’s) and dad farmed as well as worked in plumbing and heating. We had a big garden, kept chickens and rabbits, and had fruit trees. A grain elevator was next door and a rail spur ran along our property line that served both the elevator and the county shop on down the line. A drainage ditch was just a half block from our place and many times had tadpoles, crawdads (crayfish), and other wild animals inhabiting it. A woods abutted the drainage ditch and had wonderful old, abandoned hulks of cars, piles of concrete, and other junk in it. There was plenty of opportunity to find stuff to do, productive or not.
Many days I climbed the fence that separated the elevator from our place and went over to the office and sat in there, taking in the conversation of the men who came in. Sometimes I bought a Coke out of the old vending machine…a nickel bought a 6 ½ oz bottle. I knew most of the men who came in, and enjoyed the “adult” conversations of these mostly WWII veterans.
Maybe what is wrong nowadays is that there are no more rail spurs and grain elevators in a residential area or places to keep chickens inside the city limits of most towns. Drain ditches are covered over and no longer serve as breeding grounds for animals except skunks and feral cats. There’s no longer any place where a kid can feel comfortable loafing, buying a Coke for a nickel out of a machine.
I don’t want to go back to those days, but it really is true that the bad memories seem to gradually fade as the good ones are kept. I wonder if there will be a nickel Coke machine in the grain elevator office in heaven….

Truly Caring

My little brother and I (and my two sons) worked yesterday at my rental property in a small community near here. There has been a lot of rain all over the area, and the rental was no exception. It rained so much that the cellar and crawl space under the house flooded. This is no small matter, as when it flooded, it also knocked loose some support for the house and one floor began to sag.
Yesterday was fix-up day. We all four went there and opened the door only to find three feet of water in the cellar. We pumped that out, then found up to a foot of muck on the floor. Nothing to do but to start shoveling and bucketing the muck up and out.
We worked like that all morning, alternating doing that with fixing the guttering and drainage around the place. In the afternoon, we had enough shoveled out that we were able to have some working room and installed a beam that would raise the floor back and provide the proper support.
Soggy, muddy, filthy, tired and hurting, we were all worn to a frazzle.We were happy to load up and head home. On the way, by brother said something to the effect that this had been absolutely the worst job he has ever had to do. He then said something about being glad, in one respect, that he did this because it showed him that he was willing to do something that not everyone would be willing to do.
I understand that attitude, and would add that he even did it for someone else and not himself...and did it with humor and attention to the job.
Such a quality is increasingly rare these days. It's nice to be part of a family that cares and truly loves each other. Thanks.

Memorial Day

Another Memorial Day has come and is almost gone. Flags wave, flowers and wreaths rest at the foot of various monuments and stones, soldiers salute, dignitaries have given speeches, people have had picnics, been boating, and have or are driving or flying back home.
It wasn’t always this way. Memorial Day used to be on the 30th of the month regardless of what day that happened to be. It used to be called “Decoration Day”. It used to be not observed in the South. And it used to have much more meaning than it now seems to have.
According to the US Memorial Day web site (www.usmemorialday.org), people are beginning to bring back the original and intended meaning of the holiday. Some are even advocating taking the day back to the 30th of the month (Sen. Daniel Inouye, a WWII veteran).
Those things are good and probably need to be at least considered, if not done. However, we as a people should take a collective look at our desire for leisure, recreation, and holiday and weigh it against our obligation to remember those who have gone before us, paving the way for us to have the best the world has to offer.
I know that the latter is not nearly as much fun as the former. But sometimes the better is not always the easier, or the more fun.
Do what you will this holiday. But along with it, take at least a couple of minutes to reflect on those who gave all they had for you. And while you’re at it, reflect on the One who, some two millennia ago, gave all He had for you and your obligation to Him.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

—By John McCrae

Charlie's Burgers

The wife is gone today visiting her family, so I took a cue from that and ate this evening at Charlie’s Famous Burgers down the street. I don’t know just how famous Charlie or his burgers are, but it was just what I expected. An older gentleman (my age) who was overweight and not very concerned about looking dapper was cooking in a kitchen that was about half the size of my office and much dirtier and greasier than my office ever thought of being. He had a helper with him who seemed competent, but hadn’t yet ingested all of the grease that Charlie had taken in over the years.
The menu was hamburgers, fries, and other fried foods. Not a salad to be found. No fruit cups. No yogurt. Just burgers, accessories, and variations thereof.
I got the Charlie special, which was a double cheese burger with fries and a drink. I got it to go and within five minutes was actually going on my way with a brown bag filled with hot fries and a burger. The grease was soaking through the bag and the smell was of old grease. What a wonderful meal this would turn out to be!!
The fries were the kind that everyone dreams of, but one seldom finds any more. You know, those cut from the unpeeled spud, all different sizes, limp, hot, and fresh. No McD’s uniformity here. The burger was seasoned a little TOO much, but was greasy and hot and good. The drink was what it was supposed to be.
Charlie runs his store out of a little building in a parking lot of a strip mall. The whole building is maybe 500 square feet, and includes 8 or so tables in varying states of cleanliness and repair. There’s a high table with bar chairs out front in a glassed-in area that is glass on three sides so you can see all around you. It probably was some kind of show area in the business that was there before Charlie.
The Charlies of this life are the people that make life interesting. Look for them next time you’re out and around. And if you can’t find any, do something different so you’ll run into them once in a while. I probably won’t go back for awhile. I think it’ll take time for the grease to leave my system. But Charlie and his helper certainly made an impression on me that I like. Thanks for the experience, Charlie.

Breaking Down Cubicles

We went to the dinner theater last night to see the production of Oklahoma on stage. We’ve seen it before, several times, but that’s one of those classics that you just go see from time to time just to make sure someone didn’t change the script. Sis came along with us and we had a good time at the show.
Those kinds of times are important in life, I think. No, it isn’t important that we go to the dinner theater once in a while. What is important is that we do something together, whether just the two of us, or whether someone else comes along, that is different and out of the routine. God meant for us to have the abundant life and when He said that, He didn’t mean abundant possessions. In fact, the Good Book says that Jesus said, “Take care! Protect yourself against the least bit of greed. Life is not defined by what you have, even when you have a lot.”
Even in the days of Jesus, people took time off from the everyday and routine to celebrate weddings, gather for common meals, observe holidays, etc. They seemed to truly enjoy those times and came together in common unity for the purpose of celebration and fellowship. Their times of celebration sometimes lasted several days, with food in abundance and all manner of conversation, laughter, and merriment.
We miss something in our sterile world of cubicle houses, cubicle transportation, and cubicle work environment. The cubicle mentality (isolation) stifles us and defeats any chance we have for true interaction and enjoyment of one-another. We have to work to break down the cubicles and allow true fellowship to occur.
That’s worth doing.

The Rains Came Down

“The rains came down and the floods came up….” So goes a line from that old VBS song about the wise man and the foolish man. If you recall the story, the wise man built his house on the rock and the foolish man built his on the sand. Then when the rains came, the foolish man’s house was washed away while the wise man’s house remained. Of course, the moral is that we are to build our lives on a good foundation.
I say all of that to say that the rains have come again today. Literal rains. They started about 4:30am and remain at 6:30. We’ve just gone through about a week of rain. The last three or four days have been nice. Now we have rain again. It appears, though, that it won’t last for days on end.
Why do we persist, even when we know better, to gripe about the weather? I wonder if somehow the weather connects us together as fellow sufferers (or fellow beneficiaries) of something over which no one has control. And I wonder if we somehow marvel at this phenomenon called weather just because no one has figured out a way to modify it, eliminate it, or tame it. Then when we’ve survived whatever it has handed to us, we feel like we’ve somehow overcome and conquered.
The radar says the rain is on its last gasp here, at least for an hour or two and maybe for good (this time around). That’s good, but it’s also good that it came even if some of us think we’ve had too much. After all, what do we know?

Where's the Beets?

My dear sister accused me, a few days ago, of having an attitude of having to slog through marriage, relationships, and life. It’s a long story (it always is when Sis is involved), but in sum, we were talking about love and soul mates. My comments were, in part, “Second, and this isn't a cliche, love is a learned thing. The things one feels when near someone who is pretty or charming isn't love. Love is something that is learned, practiced, and worked-on over and over again. Love is sometimes hard work.”
Her comment to that was, “You guys make it sound like it's the worst burden you will ever bear in your entire lives and that you're slogging through life, WORKING WORKING WORKING at this and then waking up the next day, WORKING WORKING WORKING at it all over again, and over again the next day. Sort of like picking three rows of green beans before dinner, or standing on a ladder in 103 degree heat picking cherries off a tree, or canning beets in an outbuilding that's 120 degrees inside, or digging a cellar with a spade, or driving a tractor with a 4 bottom plow and no hydraulics, looking at 159 acres to go.”
Now, I ask you in all fairness, what did I say that incited that kind of response? Am I incorrect that love is sometimes hard work? Actually, this is my blog, so I’ll just answer that question myself. No, I am not incorrect.
One other point. It may indeed be hard work, but hard work many times is pleasurable, productive, and profitable.
So, I’m here to say on the record and publicly, love is indeed hard work many times, but it’s been some of the most pleasurable hard work I’ve ever done in my life. Now, if I could just get these beets canned....

This Culture

The Wichita River Festival is nigh upon us. In just a day or so downtown will be crammed with people, cars, and all that goes with such an event. It’s akin to the State Fair, it seems, with a nine day run and a heavy emphasis on separating folks from their money in some way, shape, or form.
That’s OK, though. We should be used to that by now. Our culture is one where the best and brightest are the ones who have perfected the knack of separating people from their money. We reward them with even more money, fame and notoriety. Us poor schmucks that allow them to do that to us, on the other hand, seem content to wallow in the bowels of anonymity and relative poverty, while continuing to hand over precious resources in exchange for such as a few miles traveled in a car (gasoline), beer, a latte, or a design on a pair of shoes.
Maybe I’m getting cynical in my old age. Maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be. But I can’t help but think of the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew, chapter 6) that talks of either serving God or serving mammon (money). He says we can’t do both, and that if we are money-servers, we also are of those who worry about what we will eat, wear, etc. He plainly says to not do that.
I have to wonder how I am faring in this world and culture.

Enough Rain

Well, we’ve had enough rain. At least in my own flawed judgment, we’ve had enough. What the Almighty has in mind, I don’t know.
Wichita actually was spared a lot of the worst of the rainfall. However, there are several creeks that flow into or near the city from other places, and the Arkansas and Little Arkansas rivers meet downtown. So we are having our share of flood warnings along with many others in the central and south-central parts of the state.
We own a home in Harper County and found out from the renter yesterday evening that water had run into the crawl spaces under the house. It soaked up the dirt to the extent that part of a supporting structure was compromised. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that, but the renter has said he’ll call someone down there that he and I both know, and have the man look at it for me. Whatever it is, it will be costly, I’m sure.
It is said that God works in His time. We’ve been praying in Kansas off and on for rain for the past five years or more. This spring, finally, he has chosen to end the ongoing drought in Kansas and other places in this part of the world. In a big way, God has chosen to provide water to nourish crops, flush away dirt and debris, and fill reservoirs.
I thought of the words of a verse of a short song this morning as I did my morning chores in the bathroom. I’ll end with them.

It is enough.
Earth’s troubles soon shall cease
And Jesus calls us to heaven’s perfect peace.

Antennae

I often have to wonder how and why some folks seem to be able to look at a situation and rather immediately perceive that something is amiss or not quite right. The actual situation can differ, but some people just seem to have a perceptive quality inside that seems to know instinctively that something will or will not happen, something is not quite right, or something is not as it should be.
I got that feeling yesterday when dealing with one of the girls. Although I had never been in that specific type of situation before, I got the distinct feeling that something wasn’t as advertised. I still have it. I don’t know if I’m correct or not as the situation hasn’t played out to the full. But it’s there…that feeling…in all it’s glory.
I’ve had the feeling before. And I’ve been wrong before. But I’ve also been right and seem to be right more often now than I used to be some time ago. I believe I can trust this feeling a little more than I used to be able to do.
Quite possibly, this quality in people is nothing remarkable or magical. My guess is that it is a quality that most humans have to process information, pick up on signs and clues that we have no idea we even perceive, and form some kind of opinion based on all of this information coming together somehow amongst our 4 quadrillion or so neural connections. This quality probably is honed and sharpened with experience and tends to work better in a mature mind.
What is it? Intuition? Hunch? Perception? Insight? Sixth sense? Whatever one calls it, it can work for good, but since it is only a guess (albeit a guess based on information and facts as we know them), we must treat it as such and work as objectively with the issue as possible. We can’t let feelings control us, but can indeed use them to help us live and get along in the world.
We’ll possibly see whether my gut is telling me the right thing or not in the next few days. Meanwhile, life goes on and the antennae remain (hopefully) receptive.

In God's Country

As you might have guessed, my first blog post-trip is one extolling the wonderful time we had in Northwest Kansas over the weekend. And it was indeed a grand time.
Our trip out was uneventful. We stopped in Central Kansas to see my wife’s dad, then headed on “out west”. Arriving at our destination about 7:00 in the evening (or was it 6pm…I just don’t know for sure with the confusion of crossing the time zone), we were greeted by our hosts who operate a b & b “out there” in the middle of nowhere.
Built in the late 1800’s in a valley with a running creek, the b & b is also a working ranch, although not the kind of ranch one might expect. There are no cowhands, horses, etc. here. There is a lot of tilled ground, irrigation, and some livestock. It’s operated more like a farm than a ranch, for those who know the difference.
We stayed in the house, which was filled with history and oozing with stories of times past and gone. They’ve done a great job with the preservation of the place and seem to have a good handle on what it takes to make such a place productive and good.
The two things I noticed most, however, were the quiet (which I’ve written about before), and the wildlife. Ducks, pheasant, turkeys, deer, geese, frogs (we were near a creek), and even prairie dogs were enjoyed over the course of time. The quiet was stunning and was a welcome respite for folks from the big city.
One thing I had kind of forgotten was how far people have to drive out there to get anywhere. It’s just a long way from one place to another, and drives of 20 miles or more to go to the store, to eat, to church, to visit, etc., are not uncommon. The roads aren’t all paved, either. Our car received some battle scars in the form of clinging mud on the fenders and wheel wells while out there. When I opened the trunk lid, the dust came flying off of it and into the air in a brown cloud. I knew then we were in God’s country.

A Whole, 'Nuther Country

Today, we will take a trip out to Northwest Kansas. We used to live in that area, and have been asked to come back for the weekend to attend and participate in some church-related activities. We look forward to our short stay out there.
Northwest Kansas is in many respects a “whole ‘nuther country,” as they would say in Texas. Some of the area is on Mountain Daylight Time. Some is above 3,000 feet elevation, which seems to be the beginning point of a change in climate to more of a mountain-type. A lot of it is normally very dry; although this spring they have had a LOT of rain. The towns are small, as are the counties. Many counties in that part of the state have less than 5,000 population. The largest communities have about 5,000 to 6,000 population, and that’s counting a few dogs and cats.
There is an ethic out there that is at once independent, compassionate, stubborn, and gentle. There is a great respect for nature and for the land that gives sustenance and provides economy. Folks there don’t generally think much of city people, politicians, people with PhD behind their names, or the likes of folks such as Jesse Jackson or Al Gore. They’d much rather celebrate Veteran’s Day than Diversity Day.
So we’ll be traveling to that ‘nuther country, Northwest Kansas, shortly. And we’ll enjoy every moment we spend there and wistfully wish, as we travel back to Wichita, that we could stay longer.

Meanness

Miami Herald columnist Leonard Pitts, in a column that ran on April 20, talked of the shooting at Virginia Tech. He quoted Nikki Giovanni, poet and professor who had taught the shooter, who talked about him. Among other things, according to Pitts, Ms. Giovanni said this, “''I know we're talking about a troubled youngster and crap like that, but troubled youngsters get drunk and jump off buildings; troubled youngsters drink and drive. I've taught troubled youngsters. I've taught crazy people. It was the meanness that bothered me. It was a really mean streak.''
Pitts concluded his column with these words, “You hear few people putting it that way, which isn't surprising. After you've established that there is meanness in the world, where do you go from there? Blame the police or mental health care, and the implication is that here is something we can get our hands around, something we can fix. But how can you fix meanness? How can you fix a deadness of the soul?”
“Some days, you look for answers. Some days, you seek things you can fix. But some days, I think, you just have to swallow the bitter pill that there is a meanness in this world. That will never pass for wisdom. But it feels an awful lot like truth.”
For Christians who believe in evil, the meanness that these folks talk about is personified as Satan, the Devil, or the Evil One. Choose whichever you want…to personify it or to just admit there is “meanness” in the world. Either way, the result is the same. People are killed. People are raped. People are abused. There are wars, famines, oppression, and genocide. There is, as a result of this meanness (or Satan…take your pick) theft, robbery, assault, deceit, rage, neglect, illness, and death.
Pitts’ questions regarding fixing meanness are especially appropriate. He has no answers. Christianity, however, does have an answer…Jesus Christ. That’s what makes Christianity so different from anything the world has ever seen. There is an answer to the unanswerable. There is a fix for meanness; for deadness of the soul. The fix is nothing we can do, but rather is something we can take advantage of because it’s already been done. The only question is whether or not we will do that.

"This is the day"

“This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” So says the Good Book regarding one aspect of the relationship of God to His creation.
Those of us who pray many times thank God for the day along with the things that He provides…shelter, food, etc. It’s a good thing to do, for it acknowledges that we indeed are dependent on God for the things that we have to have to live.
I know it’s a small thing, but we always, it seems, thank God for the day in past tense. In other words, when we think of God creating the day, we think in past tense…He has created it.
In a sense, that is correct. However, in a greater sense, I think, it is a miscarriage of our understanding of the nature of God and His work to think of this as a past tense event. Although it is difficult for me to do, I now try very hard to think of God in a continual creation mode, unfolding the day as it goes along. You see, God is always in the present tense. There is never any future tense or past tense with God. That's why Jesus said, "Before Abraham was, I AM." Anything He does, He does in the here and now.
So I like to think of God as continually unfolding the day before us…continually creating…continually working…continually in tune with and in harmony with His creation.
If you’ve not thought that way about God before now, try it. Try imagining God continually at work unfolding and revealing the present tense to you as you hurtle through life’s existence. Hopefully, the exercise in doing this will enable you to comprehend even more the awesome and mighty God of heaven and earth.

My Viewpoint

I wrote yesterday in response to an email sent to me asking me to speak to the godless condition of state schools which in turn leads people to kill others. The questioner also talked of leaving God out of the public forum and the evil that this causes. Although not quite word-for-word, I used his first email to construct these first sentences to be certain I gave his thoughts correctly.
The prompting for this came, I’m sure, from the Virginia Tech incident of a few days ago. I received a less-than-flattering response from the one who penned the original request. So much so that I have concern that this person may not be the Christian example that I thought at one time that he was.
I’m sure he was looking for someone to agree with him and others who believe, whether he understands that he believes this way or not, that government should cater to conservative Christians who wish to make their voices heard through the use of public funds and venues supported and financed by government. Somehow, in their minds, the shooting in Virginia is directly related to the lack of government approval of and promotion of the conservative Christian viewpoint. According to the natural and logical extension of his words that I outlined at the beginning of this piece, if we would only have God back in our schools, this wouldn’t have happened (nor would Columbine, etc.).
This view doesn’t fly with me for a number of reasons. I could speak of the foundational principles of our society, which prohibit such. I could speak of the fundamental unfairness of forcing others to support, through tax dollars, someone’s religious viewpoint.
However, it seems to me that one only need look at the example of the New Testament and the spread of Christianity in the first century to see that government was NOT the primary instrument of the spreading of the church. Rather, the church grew because Christians taught others, who in turn taught others. And they did so primarily, it seems, in homes, in places of worship, and in public areas such as what we would today refer to as parks and recreation areas.
They urged and encouraged others to follow their example as they lived their lives as best they could in conformance with the mind and will of God. They fed the hungry. They clothed the destitute. They healed the sick. They obeyed the laws of the land. They served the widows and orphans. They had a profound respect for women and children, the weak and the old (compared to the society in which they were living). They gave a cup of cold water to anyone who asked. And all along, they were telling people, I suppose many times one-on-one, the reason why they were behaving so refreshingly differently from others in their society.
Evil things will always happen in the world. Evil people will always kill, maim, and torture others. The spread of Christianity in the first century by the very Apostles of Jesus Christ didn’t keep Domitian and others from doing their despicable deeds. Our job as Christians is not to create a religious government. If that was so, Jesus would have set up a government himself and spread His church through that means. No, our job is to know the mind of God and do the will of the Father who sent Jesus to this world.

A Response

What follows is a response to an email sent to me by an acquaintence of mine who evidently believes that the shooting in Virginia can be at least in part attributed to the taking of God and the devil out of the public sector. My response is to him, but I thought I'd share it with all of you. Remember that my blog is copyrighted. Please do not share it or use it without my permission.

Hi, Bob. Thanks for keeping me on your email list. I don’t think what I will say is what you think I might say regarding the condition of state schools and our leaving God and the devil out of them, but will say it nevertheless.
I do not wish to have a state religion or have my tax dollars spent on the spreading or promotion of any religious doctrine. If that happens, which doctrine do we promote? Yours? Mine? Billy Graham’s? Jimmy Carter’s? Joe Biden’s? You see, there are nearly as many doctrines as there are people, I think. Someone somewhere isn’t going to agree on something that someone else believes to be absolutely true.
I do, however, desire that people be able to learn about various religions and to study the various religious holy writings of the world. That happens now and continues to happen in colleges, universities, high schools and other educational institutions both public and private, all over the country. I’m not sure what we’re complaining about regarding the seeming lack of God in the public forum.
You say in your email that “then these people wander around lost in their own minds being influenced by the devil without any correction by Truth. Lost, watching other people who seem to know their way and seem to know what they are doing. Yet the lost get no help, no guidance in the public forum. No discussion of Peace, Truth, Love, Salvation, Hope.” You further say, “with no solution, no way to manage the pain they go ‘Ballistic’ and our culture wonders why.”
If indeed that is true, why in heaven’s name would we want the public forum to give guidance and help regarding Peace, Truth, Love, Salvation, and Hope? The old saying, “I’m from the government and I’m here to help,” is as pertinent now as it ever was.
Where are the Christians, Bob? Why aren’t Christians discussing these subjects? Why aren’t Christians providing guidance and help in the public forum? Why do Christians wonder, along with the culture, why these things happen? Christians already have access to the "public forum", as you well know. Where were we? Don’t we already know?
Don’t we already know that we have failed as a Christian culture to tell the good news of Jesus Christ AND demonstrate the love of Jesus Christ to a lost and dying world? The Christian community's general hatred of homosexuals, abortionists, Democrats, Jesse Jackon, drug addicts, sex offenders, the homeless, the poor and others only solidify and harden our inability to reach across the divide.
We’d rather make certain our 401-K’s and our suburban lifestyle are maintained than to make certain that others know about Jesus. We’d rather donate a few dollars in the plate each Sunday to soothe our consciences rather than make life-altering sacrifices. We’d rather be certain we can pay the first and second mortgages, the credit card, the boat payment, the vacation fund, the cable bill, and the club membership than to see to it that others know about the Risen Lord.
Where were the Christians in this young man’s life? Who tried to span the divide? Where was he to learn about Peace, Truth, and Love if not from the private sector…the Christians? Who would teach him? The government? His professors? Give me a break.
Thanks for writing. I hope this has been helpful to you. I know it has been helpful for me to think about the issues you raise. They are pertinent and will continue to remain so long after the shock of this horrific event wears away.

An Observation

It’s been a few days since I’ve put pen to paper (an anachronism from the old days) and posted something for my two faithful readers. That doesn’t mean that nothing has happened, or that I haven’t thought about anything. That only means that I haven’t had the time, energy, or will to expend the brain power to do this.
If you haven’t written a book, story, poem, or other writing under a sense of “I need to do this,” you probably don’t know that writing can take a lot of mental energy and emotional resources. That’s why I only write two to four times a week. Sometimes I can put something in two or three days in a row, or once in a while even twice in the same day. But generally, I have to rest my eighteen brain cells a few days in between.
Yesterday, we had a staff meeting. It was a routine meeting except for one item. We seemed to work on it for the longest time making sure we understood what our supervisor was saying. It seems like we circled all around the issue and poked and prodded it from various directions, making sure that communication had indeed taken place. No one seemed willing to pick it up and go with it for the longest time, apprehensive, I guess, that it might not be what it seemed to be.
I enjoyed watching the interaction and mostly kept silent during that time. I seem to learn more that way and think (although only time will tell) that I understand what was being said due in part to listening to the interactions of the others.
I’ve talked about communication before. I’ll say it again. Communication is without a doubt one of the hardest things human beings do. Forget climbing Mount Everest. Good communication is clearly more difficult. However, when it’s done correctly, it’s amazing how the wheels stop squeaking, the gears mesh, and the old jalopy of life goes smoothly down the road.

The Circus

Cy and I went to the circus.
Cy got hit with a rolling pin.
We got even with the gosh-darned circus,
Bought two tickets and didn't go in.

We went to the circus yesterday. Although I know I shouldn’t complain if the circus was free, which it was for us as we received donated tickets, I’m going to register just a bit of concern with the event.
The Shrine circus is a staple of this part of the country. Each year for many, many years the circus has come to town. For the past couple of decades or more, it has performed at the Kansas Coloseum here in the Wichita area and is a well-attended event.
Some things I noticed, in no particular order, come to mind. The Coloseum was dirty. Not just from the prior performance, but deep-down, never-scrubbed dirty. I thought the smell was probably from the circus acts, but believe whole-heartedly that at least some of the odor was from a long accumulation of various kinds of dirt and filth that permeated the arena and concourses.
The circus has become an event for elevating the Shrine rather than as entertainment. I don’t care to see the Wichita Divan (board of directors of the Shrine) come in on motorcycles in a long procession and be introduced as if they were grand dignitaries. I don’t care for the commercials given by the ringmaster every few minutes regarding how great the Shrine is. And while the Shrine hospital system is indeed a good work, I would think the people who should be honored would be those who work with the sick and infirm rather than those who donate out of their largess.
The acts were, in many cases, second-rate. I haven’t a clue who actually owns and operates the circus even though the ringmaster said the name several times. However, it’s time to look around, I think, for people who will give a good performance. Cutting corners when paying for entertainment might be OK in some venues, but not this one.
On the other hand, it was free and it was for a good cause (assuming the money indeed does go to the hospital system). The drinks and popcorn were moderately priced and people seemed to be having a good time. I did too even though there were some things not to my liking. Gripe? Nah, just giving an opinion, which you’re free to agree or disagree with, read or not.

Boundaries Class

We are attending a class here on campus, sort of a continuing education class for houseparents. The class deals with the issue of boundaries and uses the book Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. The book (and class) works with people to learn to say no, set limits, keep people from taking advantage of them and foster healthy relationships. The foundation for the idea of good boundaries is the relationship that we have with God and He with us. I blogged about this back in February when we were just beginning the class. At the time, I didn't know much about the class or what we would be studying.
The class yesterday talked some of God respecting our boundaries. Think of it. We can say “no” to God and He will honor that. He will not force us into a relationship with Him that we don’t wish to have. He won’t bother us if we don’t want to be bothered. This is a great example of God respecting our boundaries.
In the same way, God has boundaries that we need to respect. To me, one of the most foundational boundaries is that God doesn’t want us to have a relationship with any other god. He wishes for the relationship we have with Him to be exclusive or not at all. If one thinks about that for a bit, it’s not at all an unreasonable request. Husbands and wives have promised exclusive relationships to each other for centuries.
I’m not in the business of selling anything, but this study is one of the best I’ve seen come from the Christian community in many years. It is timely and pertinent. It is down-to-earth and pragmatic. It is understandable and clear. And it gets out into the open a topic that many prefer, for whatever reason, to keep in secret.
This study is redefining my relationship with God in a positive way. It is also providing some possible answers to some questions that I’ve had as well as questions that others have asked me about God for many years. Exactly what does “God desires a relationship with me,” mean? Why does God insist on an exclusive relationship? Isn’t that being a little presumptuous? If God loves us, why doesn’t He rescue us from suffering and pain? Why does God insist on monogamous marriage relationships? Why does God allow us to go our own way and not stop us? Why does evil exist? You can probably add your own to this list.
In any event, if you can, read the book. Better yet, participate in or initiate a study of this material. I think you’ll find, like I did, that we have a lot to learn about God and our relationship with Him.

Another Passing

Another person of note passed away recently. Roger N. Wilson of Topeka, Kansas passed away. Now, most of you reading this have no clue who Mr. Wilson is and probably won’t care even after you’ve read this.
I didn’t know Mr. Wilson personally. I met him once and sat with him in a meeting in Wichita once. We interacted well, I thought. At the time he was living in Newton, Kansas and was the director of the historical society. Before that stint there, however, Mr. Wilson was a radio and television personality. I recall him giving the news on KFH radio in Wichita many years ago. He also did stints on television and on other radio stations.
His stories were concise and informative. His delivery and how he said his name at the end of his report became a classic signature. Having spent many years in broadcasting, I think I have an idea of what constitutes a good broadcaster. Mr. Wilson was one of the best in my opinion.
I don’t know about Mr. Wilson’s personal life. I don’t know why he moved to Topeka in late 2006 (I suspect he knew he was terminal and went home to die, but I don’t know that to be true). Mr. Wilson wouldn’t have recognized me had I met him again. But for some reason, I feel a loss that I am at a loss to explain.
Perhaps more than losing someone I knew about, maybe I feel a loss because this is one more disconnect of the past from my life. As it was when Kevin Craig died, this loss reminds me that I’ll never pass that way again. It also reminds me that I probably have never had a job that was more sheer fun than when I was in broadcasting. The money wasn’t good and neither were the hours, but I’ll ever and always relish and cherish those memories of late night maintenance, remote broadcasts, odd hours of work, video production, on-air chatter, responsibilities met, and I think a job well done.

Johnny Hart

Johnny Hart passed away today. In case you don’t know, Mr. Hart is the creator of the B.C. comic strip that has appeared in print for about 50 years (Feb. 17, 1958). B.C. and the cast of characters that accompany him, Peter, Clumsy Carp, Thor, the Fat Broad, Wiley,Curls, the Cute Chick and Grog will appear no more; at least as drawn by Hart. There were other characters as well. Animals made regular appearances. Dinosaurs, clams, an ant, an anteater, a snake, a turtle and bird together, and an apteryx all were part of the strip. Some unseen correspondent across the ocean communicated regularly via a floating rock.
Some of this strips might have caused offense to some. If so, so be it. Mr. Hart has a right to his speech. Others have a right to not read it or buy it. All in all, though, Mr. Hart used his strip for one purpose…to entertain. And he did it with class. (By the way, you can look up additional information in Wikipedia…there’s a decent article there about him and the strip).
What is your favorite B.C. character? I think Wiley and Grog would have to be right up there in my books. Wiley is cool because of his insight and his ability to write things that are simple, yet profound. Grog is someone that for some unknown reason, I can identify with. For those who know me, that may seem a little strange, but you figure it out…I don’t have the time or patience.
I’ll certainly miss the wit and humor of Mr. Hart and the cast of characters that made up his prehistoric world. Thanks for a good ride, Mr. Hart.

Walking in Others' Shoes

Today, we had what we call a senior dinner here on campus. We invite any and all who are willing to say that they are seniors and give them a meal, provide some entertainment, and update them on the home and what is happening here. The girls and staff prepare the meal, get things ready, and serve and wait tables. Everyone seems to enjoy it and have a good time.
There is a lot of planning that goes into an event that only lasts about two hours. Many multiples of that time are spent by several staffers as they prepare the meal, clean the facility, plan the program, contact the entertainment, set up tables, and take care of a host of other details. People who have never planned such a thing haven’t a clue.
I have been guilty many times of attending an event such as this one and flippantly criticizing some aspect of the event that I didn’t like or that didn’t go as I thought it should. I failed, too, to think of the hours of planning that went into it and that someone was just as disappointed as I in what happened (or didn’t happen).
Perhaps if we’d take a little more time to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes instead of being so concerned about ourselves, we’d understand much better what it’s like for the other person. Perhaps if we’d be just a little less self-centered and a little more others-centered, we’d not be so quick to criticize or chastise.
We had fun and it was a productive time. Did it all go as planned? No, but what ever does? Did people enjoy it? They said they did, and they had smiles as they left. I think that tells about all there is to say.

Pennies and Dimes

I have occasion to go to the high school where my girls attend. I park in the parking lot that sits between the school and a super market. Invariably, I find coins in the parking lot as I’m walking to or from my vehicle. Mostly pennies, but I’ve also found other denominations of coins as well.
I asked one of my girls once why that was the case. She said that the students will go over to the store at lunch time and buy something from the salad bar or deli. They will walk back through the parking lot. They don’t want the change that was given to them in the transaction, so will just toss it into the parking lot.
I don’t know about you, but that seems like wanton waste to me. Growing up in the middle part of the 20th century, I recall when nickels bought candy bars and packages of peanuts. Pennies bought gum balls and tootsie rolls. Dimes bought soda pop and quarters and half-dollars (remember the Franklins and walking liberties?)…oh, my, one was wealthy with those in his pocket.
Store coupons back then were for three cents (or some such small number) off the purchase price. People used and saved them just as they do today with the dollar off coupons. Virtually nothing at the grocery store was over a dollar in price (unlike today when virtually nothing is UNDER a dollar) And five dollars would buy plate lunches for the entire work week with change left over for a coffee break in the afternoons.
On a more modern note, I have a change jar in my bedroom that I put spare change into. It takes about nine months for me to fill it, and when full has about $150 in it. No, pennies and nickels don’t buy much any more. Dimes and quarters are no longer made of silver and half dollars don’t circulate. But they will, when combined, result in an amount of money that almost anyone would willingly accept if offered.
I’ll take the pennies and dimes, kids.

Life Lesson #644

I spent much of the day yesterday with maintenance-type issues on campus. You see, I am the maintenance person for the campus as well as a houseparent. Of course, the houseparent role takes priority and I do maintenance only as I can.
Yesterday, our mower broke down just a few minutes after I had started mowing around one of the cottages. The belt that went from the engine to the mower deck had broken and was laying in the grass a few feet behind the mower.
After obtaining a new belt, I undertook the task of figuring out how to install the thing. I had a book, and it had some explanation, but not much. It also had a couple of drawings. I messed around with it and finally formulated a plan of attack.
Getting the belt in place, I found that it was several inches shorter than it needed to be. I called the dealer, who assured me that the belt he gave me was the correct size. I told him I would look at the mower again to see if I had made a mistake of some kind, although in my mind I was sure I had not.
However, when I took the time to look at the rather crude drawings, I discovered that I had incorrectly placed the belt around the idler pulleys. I didn’t have time to do a correct placement yesterday, but know that when I make the correction today, it will work just fine.
I didn’t look at the drawings that were with the instructions because they were rather crude and I didn’t believe they were of much value. I also was rather proud of the fact that I could figure out how to make the repair all on my own and didn’t really need the help, thank you. Evidently, I shouldn't have patted myself on the back quite so quickly.
There’s a lesson here. I think it would be wise to heed it.

Insomnia

It’s ten minutes of four in the morning. I’ve been awake since before 3am, but just in the last few minutes decided to get up. I don’t know what’s happened that I’m unable to sleep. Maybe it was the late meal at an Italian eatery last night. Maybe it was my nap yesterday afternoon. Maybe it is the multitude of things stirring in my head. In any event, I’m here and you’re probably fast asleep.
There are things about this time of day, however, that are worth mentioning. If you’ve never experienced the late night (early morning) hours, you need to do that some time. It’s a different world out there. I used to, in another life, deliver newspapers in my local community (not Wichita). I started about this time of the day, or earlier. I found that I really didn’t know my own neighborhood and community like I thought I did.
The people are different this time of night. Yes, there are people out and around. Some have legitimate business out there…some don’t. The environment is different. Everyone relies on artificial light. A few times I would be out when the power had gone out for whatever reason. Now, that is eerie. Sometimes it would be raining or snowing. Sometimes the sky would be so clear one could almost literally see forever.
Things look different. One notices things that normally would escape notice in the light of day. The animals are different. Opossums, bats, and other creatures of the night are out and about. One’s senses are heightened. There’s more noticing of things that aren’t “just right”.
Then, depending on the time of year, about 5:30 or so the people of the day begin to stir. Waitresses go to work for the 6am shift. Nurses and aides trade shifts. The night people leave…the day people come on. Laborers, plumbers, garbage collectors and others begin the daily routines. Day has come and things return to normal, at least for the next 18 hours.
So we’ll see what today holds. Happy Monday to all.

One More Branson

I’ll let the Branson adventure go into the past with this blog. Although there are many things we did and saw that I thought I might write about, they all kind of fade away and leave just a few highlights in my mind.
The first was being there with loved ones. The experience was much, much better when we could share it with someone. Everything from Pierce Arrow to calling the nice tow truck man was better because we were with those we cared about and who cared about us. We appreciate them asking us to go along with them.
The second was the rush and noise of a town that says it’s about 6,000 people when the reality is that at any given time, probably ten times or more that number are within its trade area. That makes the small town not so small any more. Yet the people of Branson have figured out a way to make us visitors feel welcome and wanted. Waitresses engage in conversation. Locals answer questions (that they’ve probably been asked a hundred times before). Service is generally good. Things are usually clean and well-lit. They’re doing something right over there in southwest Missouri.
The third was the difference in the night time between Indian Point and Wichita. We got home and I went out on our porch to just sit. I noticed something that wasn’t the same. Then it hit me. There is a low, audible rumble in Wichita, no matter where one is, that is a combination of traffic, machines, and other city noises. Even when one lives away from the freeways and there is no traffic close by, the rumble is there. But on Indian Point, that is missing. The quiet is truly quiet. And it’s something I miss.
The girls are coming back this evening. Some have moved over. Some have yet to move. It’s also raining off and on (mostly on, today) so the move-over will probably come in spurts. Welcome back, and welcome back to work.

Some of Branson

Let’s see. What was it about Branson this time that sticks in my head? What is it about anything that makes it stick in my head? I don’t know the answer to the latter question, but to the former…where do I start?
Should I begin with the Five and Dime downtown that has, it says, “over 50,000 items”? Many of those items are things you used to see in five and dimes but don’t see anymore (mainly because five and dimes have gone away, too). There were old fashioned toys such as the balsa-wood airplanes you used to be able to buy in a plastic bag for a dime (now $1.29), old-style toys like Tinkertoys, Slinky, Silly Putty, and numerous others. [[Anyone remember American Bricks? I’ve never seen them re-created anywhere, although there are web pages about them.]] There was a women’s handkerchief table filled with hankies of all kinds, a large selection of cookie cutters, board games, school supplies, home supplies, canning supplies, general merchandise, a hardware department, and much more. All this in a store about 5,000 square feet in size.
What about the Branson Landing? It’s a new development on Lake Taneycomo just east of downtown Branson. There are about four blocks of upscale businesses, condos, hotels, etc. in an outdoor mall arrangement along the lakefront. Want my personal opinion? They just ruined downtown Branson with this thing. I don’t care if I never go back to that place. Gaaakk!!
The Branson Café is still going strong and is still the hole in the wall that it always was. That is another must-see for those who relish in days gone by. It’s downtown across the street from the Five and Dime. It seats only about 35 people when full, the food is decent and the service is good.
I don’t know about you, but I like to go places like the Branson Café. The plastic “all from the same mold” restaurants in the upscale neighborhoods don’t hold a candle to the ambiance of a hole in the wall. There’s a certain comfort level…a certain feeling of belonging…a certain knowledge that there is something special going on here…that makes places such as the five and dime or the café places to savor and enjoy. You can have your 20 dollar entrée and $1.95 soft drink. Give me the 6 dollar roast beef lunch and the 50 cent coffee anytime.

Time Off

The wife and I spent three days in Branson over the weekend. It was probably the most relaxing weekend I’ve spent in years. In Branson?? Relaxing??? As everyone knows, Branson is anything but quiet. Traffic is horrendous, billboards and signs glare at all hours, and commercialism is at its peak. However, it all depends on what you do with the time you have and where you spend that time.
We stay at a resort on the point of Indian Point. For those who don’t know, Indian Point is the jut of land that begins with Silver Dollar City and ends at Table Rock Lake. The resort where we stay is about 500 feet from the lake and marina and just across the road from a small grocery store that offers free coffee and conversation to all.
The rates are reasonable. The peace and quiet are priceless.
The heavens open up with stars galore and the occasional noise of a vehicle is soon drowned out by the quiet of the night. Birds are everywhere and the pace is slow and inviting. Lights dot the shore of the lake and the campground across the street releases smells of barbeque from time to time.
I know that in the middle of July it won’t be this peaceful. We’ve been there at that time and there is indeed more activity. But even then the noise and traffic are nothing like in Branson (or Wichita).
I’ll possibly write more later. We experienced fried mush at Bob Evans, birds building a nest right above our heads, the Branson Landing, pitch with sis, Pierce Arrow, an all-night serenade, conversation with Mike, and other delights. Thanks for listening.

Points of Light

It’s a cloudy, misty, damp morning out there. Due to daylight saving time, it isn’t light out yet even though it’s after 7am. I say it isn’t light out, but if you’ve ever lived in a city, you know that it never truly is dark outside. The lights of the city make the night something more like a continual deep twilight rather than truly a night.
I took a friend of mine out to Western Kansas once. We went out for a one-day meeting. Due to the distance in travel, we went out the day before and spent the night out on a ranch owned by another friend. The ranch was about 15 miles from the nearest town, which itself was small (around 5,000 population). That time happened to also be the time of the new moon, so there was no moonlight.
I turned off the headlights of the pickup. The darkness immediately enveloped us in a mighty wave. We felt closed in and close. We got out of the pickup and literally had to feel our way into the house. The darkness clung to us all the way to the door and was scattered only when we flipped the light switch inside.
My friend commented on the totality of the darkness. Although I had lived in the city for awhile at that time, I was not unfamiliar with the kind of darkness we were experiencing. There are places in rural America where the only light at night truly is the light of the stars. If you’re older and your eyes don’t adjust well to the dark, you have kind of a hard time navigating in that environment and you truly appreciate any…ANY…light.
When our eyes did adjust, the darkness seemed to fly away and give rise to a million points of light (to borrow a phrase from a certain President) as thousands of stars and the Milky Way spread out overhead. There were stars everywhere. No part of the sky was without a point of light. We were seeing what civilizations thousands of years ago saw.
I miss that kind of experience. The city environment seems to modify what mother nature intended, and it never seems quite as cold, windy, or dark as it is where there are very few or no humans. We muck up the experience with buildings, lights, and concrete. For some reason, we think we can make it better, but it never seems to work out that way.
When you get a chance, enjoy what God has provided for you in the most pristine environment possible. Relish the dark. Experience the wind. Feel the cold. Face the stars. Know who you are.

Communication What??

My wife and I had a conversation today about communication. You would think after all these years (over 30), that we’d have this thing pretty well worked out. It seems, however, that I don’t really know the first thing about communication.
I’m not going to get into the specific issue, because I’m still just a little confused about what happened and why this was such an ordeal. Nor am I sure why after all these years we continue to have communication issues.
But I know we do have issues, and I know that many people with just as much or more time together have issues. Failure to communicate appropriately seems to be a grade A human weakness and is a lifelong learning process.
I think I work hard to try to communicate appropriately, clearly, and adequately. I know my wife struggles to do the same. And the people we work with and for are equally involved in improving communication among us all. Yet it seems that this is the one issue that continues to cause us the most grief most of the time.
I think it’s a fair statement to say that there are no easy and quick answers. There is, however, a lifelong learning process and a lifelong struggle to find that good balance that constitutes good communication between husband and wife as well as co workers, friends, relatives, etc.

Another Encounter

While at the local Braums with the girls a few days ago (see prior post), we had to wait in line for a period of time. I told you in that earlier post about an encounter with a couple of women who had come in after we did and told you that I’d speak to another encounter in a later post.
The women we let into the line ahead of us were being served, and I was waiting at the end of our line. A man got into line with us and struck up a typical conversation just to pass the time. I had my badge on which identified as a worker at the home.
Two things struck me about the encounter with the man.
First, the conversation with him was entirely a normal one. Now, that may not make much sense to you unless you understand that virtually ALL of the time when someone we meet finds out what we do, the conversation immediately goes toward something like, “How do you do it?” or “You must be really special to work with the girls,” or some such.
I don’t mind those conversations. They help me understand the nature of what my wife and I do. But it truly was pleasant for a change to not hear that and have to respond in some way, and instead, at the end of the conversation just hear a “Have a good evening.”
Second, there was no distancing of himself from either the girls or from us. Many times, probably because folks don’t understand, they tend to both physically and emotionally distance themselves from both the girls and us. Perhaps they think the girls are from a detention facility or in some way are a danger. I don’t know. But it was nice to have a normal encounter with someone who seemed to appreciate the situation and didn’t over react to us.
You might think the man didn’t realize where I worked. He did, and our chit-chat showed that he did. But the “normalcy” of the conversation was refreshing, and his closing “good evening” seemed to me to be more than just some way to disengage from me. I felt good about the interaction and was pleased to have been part of it.
I don’t know. Maybe I see things in life that aren’t really there. Maybe I concentrate too much on the small things. Maybe I read too much into these kinds of interactions. But I’ll remember this pleasant encounter for quite a while in the days to come.

Civility

We took our brood of young women to the local Braums last night to celebrate one of the girls’ birthdays. There are, counting my wife and me, nine of us. Obviously, when we got into the Braums ice cream line, it automatically became a long line as they allow only one at a time to pass through it and prepare whatever treat the customer asks for while they are standing there. Besides, there were three or four people already in line, making it even longer.
This evening there were two young men working the counter. They quickly called a third to be a gopher and man the cash register at the end of the line. My wife headed the line and I brought up the rear so the cashier would have easy reference for what to bill me.
We hadn’t been there but a couple of minutes and two women came in and went to the end of the line. They didn’t look like they needed an ice cream treat any more than any of us did, but were pleasant. After perusing the situation for no more than about 20 seconds, I asked the women to go on ahead of all of us so they wouldn’t have to wait so long.
They at first did not wish to do so, but after some prodding and then the resultant thank-you, they went on ahead. I didn’t think anything more of it until they finished paying for their treats, turned to me and thanked me again two or three times over.
I expected a thank you at the first, but not at the end. And I didn’t expect them to be as pleasant as they were. Life is like that. Sometimes it hands you something totally pleasant from way out in left field, and you encounter it, then sort of marvel at it for a bit. Nothing in the way of miracles happened there, but I do know that civility isn’t dead. Next blog, if I think about it, I’ll tell of another encounter in that Braums the same evening.

Sanitized Religion

(Kathy, you'll recognize this...sorry!!) I recently read an article by David P. Gushee regarding the “requirements” for salvation, which was sent to me by a friend. The article appeared in a recent issue of Christianity Today. I am struck by the idea of Jesus himself teaching what one must do to inherit eternal life. I never really thought of that before, possibly because it has become so ingrained in my mind that salvation and all the attendant scriptures were in the Bible FOLLOWING Acts chapter 1, rather than in the gospels, which we conveniently dismiss by saying that the time of the gospels was under the old covenant.
Jesus, however, was not bound by the constraints of time in his thoughts and mind. He lived under the old covenant and kept the law in a three-dimensional world. But in his mind, he knew of the coming kingdom, the apostles, the church, and all that went with those things. I also think that Jesus knew that his words would be saved for all to read in the future. I can’t imagine that, knowing all of this, he would say something during his ministry that wouldn’t be beneficial for people of the new covenant age.
While I agree that we need to look at the rest of the New Testament and see how the church started and grew, and that we need to emulate the good things we find there, the gospel writings have to have relevance for us today in more areas than just lessons learned from parables. We have ignored the gospel writings in our teaching over the years, in part because we’ve elevated the writings of the apostles above the gospels, and in part because some of the teaching in the gospels is hard for us…too hard for us.

Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.
Love your neighbor as you love yourself.
Obey God in all that he says (moral commands).
Drop everything, leave it behind, and be a disciple of Jesus.

Just look at the above list. Aren’t those things much harder to do than the list of things below that I’ve gleaned from 30-some years in a Restoration church?

If you sing in church, sing acappella.
Take up a collection every Sunday.
Come to church every week.
Don’t speak in tongues or clap.

I fear we have sanitized and “dumbed down” Christianity and discipleship to the point that it bears little resemblance to the radical lifestyle Jesus called his disciples to back in the first century. Christianity isn’t something we do…it’s something we are. Discipleship doesn’t consist of doing this mission trip and making that donation…it consists of a 24-7 continual relationship with the one who called us.
What a change from the Christianity that we know. No wonder the world looks at most of Christendom and wonders why. No wonder the world continues to shrink down Jesus of Nazareth into someone who was maybe a good teacher, but that’s it. No wonder even Christians don’t have a clue what it means to be a disciple. No wonder Christianity has become impotent and irrelevant in many places. It's time for a change. It's time to fish or cut bait. It's time to get off the fence and repeat the message of Joshua, "Choose this day whom you will serve...but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Our Task

I had occasion to take a drive up state highway 15 a few days ago through central Kansas. We went to an away basketball game (the last of the season) in which several of our girls were involved. Although we drove back to Wichita late at night, the trip up to Enterprise (look that up on your Google Maps) was in the daylight, and I had an opportunity to see some of the country in that part of the state.
I noticed two things on my drive up. First, there were several fields where the soil had been turned and was bare. I had forgotten just how rich that soil is in that part of the state. I’m sure those who own the land there, though, never forget that some of the richest soil on the face of the earth is in central Kansas.
I have to wonder just how well our stewardship of that soil is. Oh, I don’t know that there is a problem there…I just want to be sure we are caring properly for the resources that we are given. And from what I saw, we're doing OK in that area. We've developed wildlife sanctuary areas, controlled erosion, and are replacing nutrients in the soil. We've not arrived, but are making progress.
The second thing that I noticed is that in several areas of grassland, the ranchers are cutting the red cedars that are taking over the pastures. Cedars are considered a nuisance in pastures. They deplete the soil of water. They kill the grass under them. They multiply if left unchecked until there is no grass left.
I’m glad to see that this species is finally being controlled, at least to some extent. We’ve robbed the tallgrass prairie of its ability to fend off these intruders on its own. Now we have to step up to the plate and help restore more natural balance. This is one way to do that.
As we learn more and more about God’s creation and our role in it as the species chosen by God to have dominion over it, we also understand that our responsibility is to care for and keep it to the very best of our ability. We are finally beginning to see that and are beginning to fulfill our task.

Larson and Theology

The March 7 Far Side calendar cartoon shows Gary Larson’s usual hell scene, except there’s a snowball whizzing by the heads of a couple of the devil’s helpers as they stand guard over the poor schmucks in hell. One guard turns to the other and says, “Look, Sid! Another snowball!...I tell you, this place is slipping.”
Some of you may think this kind of humor is sacrilegious. Others may think that Larson is nuts. Some may enjoy the humor, and some will never “get it.” I happen to think most of his stuff is exceedingly funny, and still enjoy it years after he quit drawing new cartoons. I have, courtesy of a gift from my son, the two volume set of every cartoon he ever printed, as well as some that never got to print.
Larson is more theologically correct in this cartoon than he knows, I suspect. As time wears on and we come ever closer to the time when Jesus Christ himself appears, the devil’s power and control are ever more slipping away. As folks continue to grow and mature in Christ, the power of Satan continues to ebb. And as the almighty church of the Living God continues to display the power and majesty of the One who created it all, hell itself shrivels and shrinks back into irrelevance and decay.
My guess is that you probably don’t quite believe what I’ve just said about hell. You probably think that it would be nice if…but it really isn’t that way. If you’re one of those folks, I ask you to back up and look at the big picture. Understand truly what the church is and does. Understand without hesitation what God says about his adversary. And know with certainty the victory that is ours through our Lord and Savior.

Resting From Labors

My, this week has been full. We’ve been on the go more so than I think we’ve ever been before. Pat has meetings (nursing) to attend this week. We have a full house of girls with all the attached things that go with it. The final basketball game of the season for the girls who are on the team is today in Enterprise, KS. One girl is on the North High softball team and practices after school. Another is taking advantage of after-school tutoring. One had a pair of glasses break so now we have to go to the Optometrist to fit a new frame. We now have someone in elementary school, and they start and stop at a time different from the middle and high schools. Sigh. It never seems to end.
I’m not sure what I would do if there was just one of me. We don’t seem to quite keep up when there are two of us. I think I spent about three hours in the van yesterday going and coming. I’ll spend more hours in it today. Pat seemed to have enough to do yesterday as well, seeing to the meals, attending two meetings, doing paperwork, and trying to keep things on an even keel at the house.
I am grateful I have the strength, the ability, the health, and the desire to carry out what God has set before me. However, Revelation 14 talks of people who one day will be able to “rest from their labors.” I’m not sure what that passage means, exactly, but am looking forward to any resting from labors.
It’s going to be a great day!!

Miss Crutchfield

Now, I realize that it takes a thousand words to describe one picture, and Mr. Gary Larson’s ability to capture the absurdity of life in a “Far Side” line drawing and a few words is legendary. Also, due to copyright restrictions, it wouldn’t be proper to post the cartoon here. Buy a calendar if you want to see them all. The man has earned his due.
The cartoon of the day on the 2007 calendar shows several workers (Mr. Larson’s usual cast of characters) in a scissors factory. At the back of the room is a chair on a platform 20 or so feet above the floor. An old lady (school teacher type) is sitting in the chair.
One employee says to another, “You must be new here!...That’s Miss Crutchfield, and she’s there to make sure nobody runs with scissors.”
Don’t you feel like life is that way sometimes? Somehow, somewhere, someone is watching our every move to make sure we don’t color outside the lines (or run with a pair of scissors). They’re just waiting for us to mess up so they can point us out and put us in our place. Whether it’s our boss, spouse, co-worker, parent or other relative, or someone else, it seems that some folks enjoy poking around in our business, pointing out our failures (as if we didn’t already all-too-well know what they are).
Don’t let the Miss Crutchfields in your life ruin your day today. Don’t repay by pointing out their failures; rather refuse to play along with their game. You have the choice whether you will allow them to control your thoughts and emotions…or not. Accept genuine constructive criticism, but don’t allow negative comments to ruin your day.
Yes, I know it’s easy for me to say. Why do you think I’m saying it at all? I allow people like this to ruin my day all too often, and this cartoon hit home today. So I have work to do today to make sure that this day is as good as it can be.

Plowing Ground

The weekend is over and we’re facing a full week of school and other activities with the girls. It reminds me of the times long ago when I’d pull up to a field with a “G” Minneapolis Moline and a 3 bottom plow (I know the “G” would pull 4-16’s but Dad always thought it did better on our hardpan with a three-bottom), looking at this expanse of unplowed ground ½ mile square, making the decision to start making rounds, plowing up all of four feet of ground each round with the three-sixteen inch moldboards.
I know with the grace of the Almighty that we’ll do fine this week. It just seems a little daunting on Monday morning at 6am before I’ve had a chance to down any appreciable amount of coffee. Besides, I find that I have some kind of program on my computer that pops up ads for various videos now. I wonder where THAT came from. I’m running a spy program as I type this in the hopes that it will find whatever it is and eliminate it. The spy program says now, before it is finished, that it has found 23 “critical objects”. Let’s hope one of them is this stupid pop-up.
The girls are beginning to come out of their rooms and have some breakfast. Pat has come out of our area and is interacting with them as they come out. I have their morning medications ready and have started distributing them. Doors are closing, water is running, and one girl has already showed me what she’s wearing to school today, saying that she’s debating on what shoes to wear with the faded jeans, tee-shirt and sweat shirt over that. I dunno. I don’t debate what shoes I’m going to wear. I only have one pair that I regularly wear on week days. And the Sunday dress-up debate for me is always “black or brown” and is dictated by what socks I happen to pull out of the drawer.
Maybe some things are more important to some people than to others. In the great scheme of things, I’m not sure how important the shoe debate is. But perhaps that’s Jaqlyn’s way of putting the plow into the ground and starting that first four-foot round. In that case, the debate is vital.

Reality

I wonder about this thing called “reality”. What is it? Where is it? What does it do? Is it unique to each person, or is there a common reality? When someone’s reality is warped somehow, how do we know that? Who or what defines reality? How can I know whether my reality is the “real” reality?
Yeah, yeah, I know this may be heavy stuff for a Saturday, especially in the morning. You haven’t had your coffee yet and have only begun to stir even though it’s 10am here as I type this, and you’re reading it after it’s posted.
The questions remain, though. Our making excuses for our lack of brain power don’t make the questions go away. Our refusing to answer the questions don’t make them go away. Our ignoring them don’t make them go away. Somehow, we all answer the questions about reality in some way. Whether consciously or not, we form opinions about reality. Then we live in accordance with those opinions.
It’s the same with other topics. Jesus, for example, is a good subject for questions that will not go away even though we may ignore them or make excuses for not answering them. The reality is that there was indeed an historical Jesus of Nazareth. The reality is that he claimed to be God (I AM, Jehovah) in the flesh. The reality is that he died from crucifixion at the hand of the Romans. The reality is that his followers gave up their lives, their fortunes, and their “sacred honor” to promote his cause. The reality is that the movement he and his followers began is alive and well on planet earth.
The questions are legion and demand an answer. Is Jesus of Nazareth who he claims to be? If not, is he a crazy man for making such claims? Or is he a charlatan…a liar? If he isn’t who he says he is, he has to be one of the other two. Which one? Why did his followers give all they had for his cause, if he was a lunatic or liar?
If he is who he claims to be, then he also is alive and well today. What will we do with that fact? He calls us to a radical life and total devotion. How will we handle that in today’s world?
Jesus calls us to a reality that is too big for us to grasp. Yet it is a reality that is what we were designed for…created for. I can’t wait.

Oranges and Such

I normally don’t blog or even write in the evening hours. Most evenings, my brain is just too tired and doesn’t have what it takes to put words together in a good way. Something about the rigors of the day take what little energy for writing that there is and channels it to something else. Then when evening comes, I’m at a loss (literally) for words.
Today, however, is a little different. We don’t have the girls today and I didn’t have a lot to do today. So I’m relatively fresh, as it were. The problem is that having done nothing of substance today, I have nothing much to write about even though I’m primed and ready to go. Therefore, I’ll make something out of nothing, so to speak.
Have you ever eaten a fresh mandarin orange? Yes, I know we buy mandarin orange segments in a can and put them in various salads, etc. But have you ever obtained fresh ones and delighted in them?
They peel very easily and have very little of the white stuff that’s on the inside of the rind. They segment readily and taste almost heavenly. Regular orange growers could take a lesson in how to produce a quality product by taking the mandarin orange as an example.
I’ve just eaten two of them and am about to go to the refrigerator for another one or two. I don’t know if they are seasonal or not, but hope that we get them as much and as often as we can. I’ve always enjoyed the canned segments, but the fresh ones are…well…so much better. It’s kind of like the difference between canned and fresh pineapple.
To each his own, I’m sure. But for me, the mandarin is about the best citrus around.

Giving Meaning

I was outdoors last Friday when I heard geese up in the air, honking as they traveled. I normally don’t think much of that kind of thing as Wichita has more geese than we know what to do with. The Arkansas River, lack of natural predators, and various ponds and bodies of water in housing developments make a great environment for them.
But for some reason, I looked up. Turns out these geese weren’t the coddled urban variety, but were very high in the air in the classic “V” shape. These geese were travelers, migrators (my spell checker doesn’t know what to do with that word). And they were traveling north. They were taking advantage of a strong southerly wind, honking as they went. I think this is about the earliest I have ever seen geese migrate back north.
Of course, many folks would attach all kinds of meaning to this sighting, citing global warming or some such. And that may all be true. I, however, was just pleased that I looked up and caught a glimpse of the marvelous nature all around us. These kinds of things sort of make my day.
I hope you find things in your day that make it special, pleasant, and fulfilling. If you don’t regularly do that, maybe you need to expend a little energy to discover those things in your world that give life meaning. Life is indeed worth living no matter what the circumstances. The great writer of first century Christian literature, Paul of Tarsus, said, “I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians chapter 4.

Marvelous Weather

Take a look at the accompanying picture, which I screen-saved from the National Weather Service website. I saved enough of the picture when I cropped it that you know the day and time referred to, and know that it’s the Wichita area.
There are parts of nine different watches and warnings plus an area of “short term forecast” in the Wichita area map. Now, I know that some of these are at the very edge of the map; nevertheless, there is everything from a blizzard warning to a red flag warning and everything in between, including tornado watch in a relatively small area.
Such is the weather in this part of the country. Blizzards are accompanied by tornadoes and flooding in a relatively small geographic area. Severe weather is expected to hit us later tonight after about 10pm. Then rain and later on, snow on Sunday.
This should be an interesting 24 hours in Kansas.

Love

Our deep question forum is talking about love right now. Oh, in case you didn’t know, several of us in my family as well as some hangers-on have a private, on-line forum where we talk about various issues brought up by one of us.
My niece brought up the subject of love and asked some questions to the rest of the group. We’ve been replying over the past few days. Most recently, my brother in law has responded.
Isn’t love one of those most remarkable of things! You can’t see it, but you can feel it. You can’t touch it, but you can hold onto it. You can’t understand it, but you can’t live without it. What a marvelous thing, this love.
And how many manifestations does love have? Let’s see. There’s patriotism (love for country), brotherly (or familial) love, unselfish (agape) love, erotic (eros) love…the list goes on. Then there’s the daddy of them all, according to Christianity, the love of God for humans.
No wonder the great 1st century Jewish writer Paul of Tarsus said that of the big three, faith, hope, and love, “The greatest of these is love,” and that “Love never fails.” Even the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob said, “I will never leave you. I will never fail you.” And John, the writer of great Christian literature and companion and apostle of Jesus said, “God is love.”
How could something so marvelous have come about? By chance? By happenstance? Give me a break. Love is without a doubt one of the greatest apologetics for the existence of God. Today, as you go about your day and see love in action, think just for a moment about where you’d be without it.

Just Things

The weather has been great the past couple of days. Much the opposite of just a few days ago, the temps have warmed up and the ground is actually beginning to thaw. Snow is pretty much gone and one would think it was mid-March. From the deep freeze to the balmy spring in just a day or two is quite a change even for those of us in the mid-section of the country.
Spring weather is always a joy to watch. Yes, I know it isn’t spring yet, but it’s close and the warmer weather patterns in general mean that spring probably will be pushed a little closer toward the first of the year. The clash between air masses peaks about the first of May, and there’s a gradual crescendo up to that time here in this area.
We’re working already to develop ideas for the girls this summer. We’re fleshing out ideas for church camp, outings, trips home, summer tutoring, service projects, part time work, and other things. Some of the girls will spend most of the summer break at home or with relatives. Others will sort of come and go. Yet others will remain here most of the time.
I’m a little apprehensive about summer, but that ‘s just because we’ve never done that here before. I’m sure it will be shorter than ever and before we know it, they’ll be heading back to school.
The adventure truly does continue for us. We’re pleased we can be in this place at this time and look forward to however much continued service we are allowed in the future.

Boundaries

We here at the home are taking in a study on boundaries. We’re using a book called “Boundaries”. On the cover, it says, “When to say YES; When to say NO to take control of your life.” It’s authored by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend.
We’ve just started the study, so I don’t know much about it yet. However, one thing I said during the introductory session was that I have been reading and studying the Bible for more years than I can count and have never associated God’s Word with the idea of setting boundaries in real life.
Now, you may think it a bit strange that I never made that association, but I rather imagine that there are a few things in the Bible that haven’t clicked for you. It should prove to be an interesting study, especially since one of the big things we work with our girls on is setting and observing proper boundaries in their behavior and attitudes.
Many times we seem to think of boundaries as being some sort of arbitrary and subjective ideas that exist because others want to make our lives miserable. We even think of that sometimes when it comes to God’s boundaries for us (now admit it…you’ve thought of God as the ultimate mean parent, haven’t you!).
This should prove to be an interesting study. After all, God created boundaries when He created the creation. So they are, when used as He intends, good. I think we’re going to have a ten-session study over the same number of weeks. It may be an enlightening ten weeks.

You Get What You Get

My, my, but isn’t it a mite nippy here (and elsewhere). I would say something funny about where’s global warming when you need it, but I think that’s something we need to take a serious look at. I’m not convinced the doomsday folks are correct; neither do I think those on the other side are necessarily correct when they poo-poo the whole idea. I wish I’d hear from someone who is an authority who doesn’t otherwise have an agenda, political, financial, or philosophical, to peddle. Now, that WOULD be refreshing, wouldn’t it?
I got some comments on the cold showers. By the way, I’ve not had to turn off the hot water…yet. It’s interesting what folks comment on and what they leave alone. I wudda never thunk that showers could push some folks’ buttons. I guess I live and learn.
Arthur (arthritis) has come to visit me rather big-time this week. I can barely move my thumbs at all, and they hurt constantly, even with Aleve in my system. I hope this cold goes away soon. I got out the hot paraffin bath this morning. It’s still warming up after being plugged in for two hours. I can’t wait to bask in its warmth for a few minutes. If you are plagued by stiff hand joints, invest $20 in a paraffin bath. Most drug stores (I got mine at Walgreens) have them. Besides, they help keep skin from drying out and cracking.
I know this is just kind of a potpourri of things. But I feel kind of pot-whatever today. You get what you get.

Holidays and Such

Today is Valentine’s Day. I’m not sure of the origin of the day and don’t really care. To me, it’s not a big deal; just as any other holiday isn’t a big deal. We aren’t doing much here in the cottage either, but one of the girls did volunteer to get up early and fix heart-shaped pancakes. She also cut out a heart shape from the middle of a slice of bread and put an egg into it and cooked it. The effort was laudable, even if not all of the pancakes and eggs were perfect.
Look at the things we celebrate during any given year. The new year. Love. Our honored dead. The independence of our nation. The laborer. God’s providence and goodness. The birth of Jesus. Yes, I know there are many, many others, but these seem to be the big ones.
Why do we choose these things? Why not other things that are also important? I don’t know, but I do know that even though I don’t make much of a to-do about holidays, life would be much more dull and routine without the occasional break.
So, if you’re like me and don’t do much with holidays, at least enjoy the break from the mundane and savor the enjoyment of others as they celebrate. Happy Valentine’s Day.

To Toe the Line

Try as I might, I can’t figure out what people do in the shower for 20, 30, 45 minutes. How long does it take to wash body parts? Now, I know that especially in the winter, a hot shower is soothing and comforting, but there’s only so much soothe and comfort that can be had from a spray of warm (or hot) water. Beyond that, it becomes something to be endured, not savored.
We’re having “issues” with long showers here at the home. I understand that girls maybe might need to be in there a couple minutes longer, due to hair, etc., but I can’t fathom the necessity of a 30 minute trip under the falls, so to speak.
So we’ve made yet another rule (sigh). I know where the hot water cut-off valve is in the basement and will not hesitate to use it when I deem it to be appropriate. I can just imagine the cries of the first one upon whom I impose the “That’s all, folks!” rule. Actually, in a possibly somewhat perverse way I’m looking forward to doing it, because it usually only takes one or two times…then they all get it and toe the line. It’s kind of interesting to see that process take place.
Now, if we can just get parents and caregivers on board and “toe the line” early on in the lives of their children, so I won’t even need to be here….

This Is the Day

I love caring for girls. I had only been out of our room for a minute or two when an “issue” came forth regarding one of the girls hogging the bathroom and taking a tub bath in the morning when three other people needed to use the bathroom. Of course, the tub bath person was totally miffed at having people knock on the bathroom door, and the others were miffed because the tub bath person ran the water heater dry.
I managed to quell the developing revolt and lynching in the hallway and will issue an edict today that henceforth, all bathing in the morning hours will be shower only and only for ten minutes or less. I know where the hot water valve is in the basement and will readily cut off the hot water to the offender who showers longer than 10 minutes. Having to complete the shower in cold water may help deter would-be slackers.
Of course, that won’t be the only consequence. Extra chores, room time, or other consequences will reinforce the lesson.
---30 minutes later---Now I have two girls on thirty minutes chair time for having their bedroom door closed when no one was changing or otherwise needing it closed. One of those in the chair also has the consequence of going to church today without any makeup because she was applying it in her room, yet another infraction.
It’s been an interesting morning so far, and promises to get even better as the day lurches onward. I’ve yet to do room checks, which will come in 10 minutes (I know at least a couple of areas aren’t picked up, and won’t be by the “deadline”. How do I know that? I dunno…I guess a house dad’s intuition). We may have attitude issues in church or later that we’ll need to deal with, ad infinitum.
“This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

Time Off

Today is Friday. For many, it’s the start of a weekend filled with alternate activities. Alternate, that is, to the normal work world of Monday through Friday. Some will go on a day trip somewhere. Others will shop. Some will do chores like clean the garage or change the oil in the car. Yet others will use the weekend to catch up on household and other things that they didn’t have time to do during the week…laundry, bill-paying, cooking, cleaning.
For us, though, the weekend is work just as during the week, except we don’t have time during the day when the girls are off to school. They’re with us all the time and require supervision all the time. There’s no such thing as leaving the girls at the house and our going off for lunch somewhere. We work 24-7 during the time we’re on duty, so this weekend will actually be more intense as far as work is concerned.
The nice thing about this arrangement, though, is that we get a week off every fourth week. We work three weeks on and have a full week off. That takes some getting used to, because we just aren’t familiar with taking that much time off in one chunk, and doing so every four weeks.
Sometimes we go someplace and visit the kids or whoever. Sometimes we just sit at the house and enjoy the quiet. Other times, we’ll take in a concert or theater if something good is playing. Often, we’ll find time during that time to see family, whether hers or mine.
We don’t have our next week off for a couple more weeks. So this week, we’ll enjoy having the girls with us and working with them on things that are of importance to their well-being. Meanwhile, we’ll look forward, in the back of our minds, to a couple of weeks from now when we can relax and take some time to ourselves.

Wise as Serpents

I was just spammed by someone who wants to award me with an honorary doctorate. Just for kicks, I went to the website. Come to find out they say they are in Pennsylvania, and will also offer other degrees. I can get a “real” doctorate for a minimum $2,500 “freewill offering” sent in advance by bank draft.
You know, I should print up my own degree. I can do it for much, much less than $2,500 and don’t have to give anyone any personal information, with which they can steal my identity. Oh, yes, that’s a requirement, too. Personal information sufficient to populate a phony driver’s license, along with two photos, passport size. Guess what they’ll use THAT information for.
I haven’t a clue why anyone would respond to such a come-on. And I myself briefly was taken in on this site, because I wondered if they had a real address or were just a mail drop. The site showed photos of a church and other buildings, saying that it was the location of the university. I caught myself thinking, “Well, at least there is a real location.”
Then I thought, “How do I know that these photos are photos of THEIR buildings, and not just some buildings somewhere that they choose to photograph?” What is it about these things that makes us believe what we see on a screen, even when we know that it’s a scam?
It’s just that kind of gullibility, as demonstrated by Yours Truly, that sucks otherwise intelligent people into these things and causes all kinds of problems. Some would argue that we desire to please and not offend. Others would say that we want to believe the best in others. I don’t disagree with that.
But I turn to Christian Scripture and say that Jesus himself said we were to be “wise as serpents”. That must mean something, even outside of the context in which it was said. A little preventive medicine goes a long way in this arena.

Redeeming the Time

It’s the start of yet another day. I wonder how many days I have seen come and go in my lifetime. Let’s see, 365 ¼ days every year (to account for leap years) times 57 is 20,819, plus another 100 days or so for this current partial year is almost 21,000 mornings that have come my way.
So, what have I done with those 21,000 chances to make a difference? What have I done with the time that has been given to me? Why was I given any chances at life at all?
Yes, I know that some of those chances came when I was a year old and didn’t have a clue what philosophical questions were. But by far, most of those mornings came when and while I was very much aware of my existence and my shot at life.
It’s a rather sobering thought to know that most times I didn’t give it a second thought. I never had an inkling that I should be making the most of the time (How does the Bible say it… “redeeming the time”?) given to me.
Don’t obsess over it today, but just think today for a minute or two about the days you’ve already been given and what you’ve done with them. If you come up short, don’t beat yourself silly; rather start the process of redeeming the time in a manner worthy of the incredible gift you’ve been given.

A Wonderful World

In church today we sang number 180 in the songbook. Oh, you don’t know that one, do you, because you don’t have the same book that we have. OK. It is Jesus Is Lord and goes like this:

Jesus is Lord, my redeemer,
How He loves me, how I love him.
He is risen, He is coming,
Lord come quickly, Hallelujah.

In the singing of the song, the men start out and the women follow with their part. On the last verse, there is a female descant that goes like this:

He was born to die on Calvary’s tree
To redeem a lost humanity.
Conqu’ring death He rose triumphantly;
And He reigns thru all eternity.

Now, these words don’t mean nearly as much seeing them on a page as they did when we sang them this morning. We sing acappella in our church, and the descant was just gorgeous. Female voices joined in song are truly God’s handiwork and a part of God’s design for beauty and grace.
I am blessed to be able to hear voices praising in song, symphonies immersed in music, and crows outside caw-ing in the trees. What a wonderful world this is.

The Eagle

When we left church this morning, one of the men outside pointed over to the river and said there was a bald eagle over there. We looked and sure enough, one was flying over the river, sometimes diving down to the water. He was far enough away we couldn’t see what he was diving for, but presumed it was some kind of fish or food.
Eagles once were an endangered species and still aren’t back in that many numbers. However, it isn’t unusual to see them here in Kansas this time of year around rivers and bodies of water, even in town as we were (our church is in downtown Wichita).
The eagle has managed to become a symbol of everything good about America. Power, strength, grace and beauty are all part of it. Size undoubtedly plays a part in our associating the eagle with our nation. But the part I like best is the way the eagle is depicted on the Great Seal of the United States…with the olive branch in one (the right) talon. It has always been a mark of a great nation to work harder to wage peace as to make war. I pray that we will always be a nation that loves peace.