What am I Going to Do?

A month or so ago, I heard about an explosion and fire in downtown Anthony, Kansas. It happened in an alley and caught the adjoining buildings on fire. Being old, those business buildings went up in flames rather quickly, and required the help of several neighboring fire departments to control the flames. I had hoped that only one or two businesses were affected because Anthony is near where I grew up and has at least a semblance of a downtown business district yet.
A few days ago, I was visiting with someone at the place where I work. He was telling me that virtually the whole block went up. Only the businesses on either end of the block were saved. My heart sank because one of my favorite clothing stores went up in flames since it was in that block. I checked articles on line and received confirmation that Mueller Brothers clothing store did indeed cease to exist because of the fire.
Those businesses that were lost will not be rebuilt. There’s not enough money, even with insurance, to do that. The businesses, including Mueller Brothers, did not have enough value as a business to warrant a moving or rebuilding in any event. In a small community, when something like this happens, the economy of the time is that these places just disappear.
I recall visiting Mueller Brothers as a boy. There was a certain smell that men’s clothing stores had, and Mueller Brothers had that smell. I recall being fitted for a suit by one or more really old men (at least they looked old to me). We didn’t have a lot of money, and I didn’t get to have a new suit of clothes very often. More often than not, I got hand-me-downs from my older brothers.
Later, when we moved back to that area after I was married and had a family, I started going back there, purchasing suits, shoes, socks, shirts, and whatever else I needed. The service was good, the quality was great, and I truly enjoyed the experience.
I’m still wearing dress socks I bought there in 1994. They look as good today (no kidding) as they did then. I think I could wear them until I croak. I have several shirts, socks, three or four pair of shoes, and other haberdashery that I’ve bought there.
Just a couple of months ago, my sister and I made a day trip on a Saturday down to Anthony. One of our stops was at Mueller Brothers where I bought two pair of shoes and some shirts. That same men’s store smell from 50 years ago was there…ever present. The only thing missing was the old men. Now, there was a man, his wife, and grown daughter minding the store.
And now there is no one. I’m not certain where I’m going to buy my shoes. It’s kind of like where I’m going to buy my next vehicle. I just don’t like the mega-dealers in Sedgwick County, but back home I don’t know those dealers any more, or even if anyone sells cars down there. Maybe I’ll just get my shoes re-soled and re-heeled for the next 30 years or so. They are of good enough quality that I think I might just be able to do that.

Making Music

As I relax this evening from a hard day’s work (Mondays always seem to be a little tougher than the rest of the week, for some reason), I put in an video of Bill Gaither and his Homecoming Friends. Now, I know some of you may not appreciate my choice in music, and that’s OK. I’ve several of those tapes and DVDs, and have grown to appreciate them more and more.
The videos I have are all several years old, and many of those featured in the videos are no longer living. That makes them even more special, as the talent and ability of these folks has been preserved for those like us who appreciate so much what they do to the glory of God.
I don’t know the hearts of all of these folks. There are surely some who are in the business to just make a living. Others may be in the business for what glory comes to them. But I suspect that far and away the most of the people in Mr. Gaither’s videos are there because of their desire to glorify the God of Heaven. There are different talents, different abilities, and different kinds of music in these videos, all loosely under the Southern Gospel umbrella.
I have to wonder, if God gives us all different talents and abilities, and expects us to use them to His glory, why it is that some believe that certain of those expressions of love and devotion to God are somehow sinful because of the particular talent or ability that is used. I can’t imagine a God giving someone a certain ability and talent, then forbidding him or her from using it to the glory of God and the calling of men and women to faith. God expects us to use what we’re given. Scripture is quite clear on that matter.
Regardless of how you might view that last paragraph, seeing and hearing J D Sumner and the Stamps quartet sing “Let Us Break Bread Together” is truly priceless, and all the more so since Mr. Sumner is no longer with us (even though the Stamps Quartet goes on). There are many such priceless performances by such as Hovie Lister, the Cathedrals, the Martins, the Happy Goodmans and many others. I appreciate the efforts of Mr. Gaither to preserve these performances.

Weekend Musings

Most weekends find me doing some soul-searching and introspection at some point during the weekend. I don’t know why, necessarily, and I don’t know what to make of it. But I find myself more and more asking questions such as “Why am I here?” I try to make sense of the beauty of the creation out my back yard and think about the amazing blessings of living here in this place at this time. I wonder what lies ahead for my wife and myself, and wonder if we really will have financial resources to retire and will God really care for us (even though it’s obvious that He has in the past and I have no reason to doubt His provision for the future).
I think about my work on the Missions committee of our church and where I need to steer the committee as its chair. I consider the interaction and fellowship we had with the church folks (or if it’s Saturday, I think with true joy about that fellowship the next day). I wonder about some of the things we did in the past and wonder how we ever made it this far. I think about our family, our boys as well as our extended family tree. In other words, over the course of a weekend, I may think “around the world” before coming to rest in the here and now on Sunday evening.
Just this evening as we were at the coffeehouse put on by our church youth, I saw some small children playing and thought of our own boys as they were that age. For just a moment, I was reliving some wondrous memories of them in their toddler years. And although those times will never come again, I think with fondness how they’ve grown and matured and have created family units of their own. The tears flow rather easily during times like this, as they are even now as I write this, thinking again about some of those times and seasons.
So, what do I make of this? Is this a sign of old age creeping up? Is it s sign that I secretly long for children again or that I wish I was 32 again? No, I don’t think so. I think it’s an acknowledgement that life is brief. It’s recognition of the incredible and astonishing blessings that have come our way in our lives here. It’s also a concession to the inexorable march of time and the promise of something much, much better than even this.
No, I don’t spend the entire weekend thus occupied. But for a few minutes each weekend, I feel like I need the grounding that this kind of mental exercise provides. I also need the strength to face the coming week and the grace to get through the days ahead. This seems to do it, and I’m grateful God has given me the intellect to not only do it, but appreciate it.

What Matters Most

Normally, I write something for the blog no later than Saturday afternoon. But this weekend, it just didn’t seem like the thing to do. I don’t know why, but one sometimes just gets the notion that what has been done many times in the past just shouldn’t be done this time in this way. However, I do want to maintain the connection with you, so am writing now, on Sunday afternoon.
I noticed a couple of things worthy of my blog (if you’re a regular, you know that isn’t a very lofty goal). The first was something I saw yesterday evening as I was making my way to our son’s place where Grandma was already there watching the grandkids. I stayed behind to catch up on some work and mow the yard.
While on the way, I saw a bicycle-built-for-two and, of course, it had two riders on it. However, the bike was constructed differently than I had ever seen a tandem built before. The first seat was of regular size for regular people. The second was clearly built for the smaller among us, our children. There was a dad, I presume, and his daughter riding on this thing and having a good time, it seemed.
What struck me was that someone had the foresight to think of such a thing and either build it or have it built. There probably aren’t that many of that kind of tandem bike in the world, but what a great idea.
The second is all the talk about the economy, health care, and other assorted ills of the world and of society. Much of that talk is negative, and much of it, I think, is fed by the 24 hour so-called news channels on cable TV. I say so-called, because what they do isn’t news; it’s commentary and opinion.
I’ve written about this before, but I’ll say it again. All I have to do to get away from the negative and the bad is go out on the back patio. There, I find that fish are still swimming in our pond, trees are still growing and waving in the breeze, birds still feed at the feeders, and frogs still croak in the quiet of the evening. In other words, the bad news isn’t all there is to life, and life, indeed the creation, will go on regardless of the value of the dollar, whether a democrat or a republican is in the presidency, and whether or not Rush Limbaugh says anything stupid (a half-hearted pardon to those who listen to him).
I’m reminded of what Dr. James Dobson says at the close of his “A Father Looks Back” tape. He says something to the effect of, “When all of my life is boiled down to its basic roots, what truly matters is whether I have loved the Lord God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and whether I have loved my neighbor as myself.”
If we can continue to have that first and centered in our consciences, all of the rest will seem rather superfluous and like the “sounding gong and clanging cymbal” of I Corinthians 13.

Hummers (of the natural variety)

A few weeks ago, I put a hummingbird feeder on the back patio behind the dining area of our home. A couple of hummers, one male and one female, are regular visitors to the feeder, especially later in the afternoon.
I have been fascinated by these birds since I was a child, but this is, if I recall correctly, the first time I’ve been able to attract hummers with a feeder on a regular basis. I don’t know if you’ve seen hummingbirds up close, but they are well worth the work it takes to keep the feeder clean and filled.
The ruby-throated hummingbird, the only variety of hummer that consistently appears east of the Rockies, is one of the smaller of the species. Adults weigh in at about 3 to 4 grams, or about 1/8 of an ounce. Some other remarkable statistics are that their body temperature is in the 105 to 108 degree range, their eggs are about the size of peas, and their heart rate can be as high as 1,200 beats per minute in flight.
Their nests are the size of walnuts and they can briefly fly as fast as 60 miles an hour. Their normal flight speed is about half that. Their wings beat from 40 to 80 times a second and their respirations are about 250 per minute.
They are the only bird, as you know, that can hover, fly backward, forward, up, down, and even upside down (credit National Geographic Magazine). Their wings are hinged at the shoulders in such a way that they can exquisitely control their flight so that their bodies remain virtually stationary while their wings and tail furiously maintain their position. During much of their acrobatics, the wings beat opposite one-another. That is, one wing will be down while the other is up.
Many of these diminutive birds will migrate in the fall from the Gulf coast to the northern coast of South America, making the 500 mile flight over a span of 15 to 18 hours, non-stop. They then come back in February and gradually make their way up into the rest of the country during the spring and summer months.
This is probably more information than you really wanted to know about the hummer. I encourage you to view a video of hummers in flight. See it in HD and watch it full screen on YouTube. The URL is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0HqfO9d9-U&annotation_id=annotation_275200&feature=iv

The Real Issue

Hear me out. The topic of this blog is NOT health care reform, but I need to lay some background.
I’ve been watching some of the town hall meetings going on lately regarding health care. Yes, I think we need to find a way to provide at least basic care other than an emergency room. No, I’m not obsessed with it. No, I don’t have any better ideas. Yes, I have reservations about what is happening now.
The only other thing I think I’ll say about the topic is that there is so much misinformation on both sides being stated, repeated, and believed to the point that it’s virtually impossible to know the truth of the matter. Some things I do know. We already ration care, government is already up to it’s ears in health care (and has been for many years), we already have “socialized” single-payer medicine (Medicare, Medicaid, V.A.), we have, hands down, the best pre-hospital (EMS) medicine in the world, we already have a dire shortage of qualified nurses, physicians, therapists, and other professionals in many areas of the nation, etc. Both sides are to blame, if one is laying blame, for the misinformation.
Might I suggest that one reason the public in general (including me) is leery of whatever is floating out there has more to do with trust and faith in government/politicians/congress/Washington than it has to do with the topic at hand. Government politicians have, over the years, played fast and loose with the faith and trust of the American people to the point that when now they say “Trust us on health care,” we naturally turn a nose to the wind to see what smells and how bad it is. I don’t care if it’s Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, the entire establishment, it seems, has lost the faith and trust of the American people to the extent that anything coming from them is immediately suspect.
And with good reason. They dance around on the meaning of the word “is”. They parry and dodge when it comes to lobbying, money, and influence-peddling. They earmark their way to re-election. And they are masters at obfuscation and not answering a simple question.
They throw billions of borrowed dollars into this black hole or that, trying to plug a self-made recession, and without any meaningful accountability or oversight. They self-righteously condemn out of control borrowing following years of their own largess and lack of control.
The fix for health care, whatever that might be, may have to wait until the American people can see some tangible progress and some real attempt on the part of the Washington establishment to be ethical, moral, and decent in their personal and professional lives, their behavior, and their dealings with us. Until then, yelling at one-another at town hall meetings may be the best we can do.

A Master At Work

Regardless of what you may think of his politics, watch sometime as President Obama works a crowd. The man is a master at going to a rope line and engaging those who are there in conversation, laughter, and hand-shaking. I don’t think I’ve seen any president that is able to work a crowd better than this man.
That ability will serve him well as he continues into his presidency. He seems able to make a connection with people in a crowd that has been sorely lacking in the last several presidents. Only Kennedy, Reagan and to a lesser extent Clinton came even close to the ability of Mr. Obama to engage the common person.
Oh, by the way, you probably won’t see Mr. Obama work a line on any of the commercial channels. You’ll have to watch one of the C-SPAN channels to see it, but it’s well worth it.

Friendships

My sister has been, as she says, ruminating about friendship and the differences in the concept of friendship as apprehended by men and women. She also talked of losing one of her circle of friends recently to a move out of state and how that worked for her.
I think she is correct regarding how men and women see friendships differently. I know that’s a generalization and that in real life there are exceptions.
I too think from time to time about friendships and who I could count as what sis would consider to be a close friend, or a friend in an inner circle of some kind. I don’t know that I have such a person right now here in the Wichita area. Possibly the closest might be one or two of the men from church that I see on a regular basis.
However, when I think of that circle of friends, I can think of several who, although I haven’t seen them for perhaps years, I still count as a close friend. In many respects, distance and lack of contact do not diminish that tie, and when we do see each other or visit somehow, we just sort of pick up where we left off and go on.
I can think of Steve and Chris, Troy and Richard, Ron and another Richard. I think of Vern and Earl, of Roy and Bill and another Chris, and several others whom I may not have heard from for quite some time, but I believe that both they and I have each other in the “close friends” column. My wife and family may or may not know who these people are, and that’s OK because they are part of my life and my experiences on this planet.
Is it really possible to maintain a friendship like that? I know that it is because when we do see each other it’s obvious that the tie is still there and the friendship has not diminished because of the passage of time or distance apart.
So when Sis says her hubby has no close friends, she may be correct regarding those he sees every day. However, don’t assume there are no friends in his life. If he’s like me and a lot of other men, he will have those in his background and in his past that he still counts among those who are the closest to him, and he cherishes the memories and relishes the day that he is able to make contact one more time.

The Truth

This work week seemed to go by very quickly. It seems that it was only a few hours ago that it was Monday afternoon and now suddenly it’s Friday evening. I have to wonder just how much faster time will seem to fly as I get even older. But they say that time sometimes seems to go very slowly for some of the elderly…those who are infirm or alone. I guess it just depends on one’s perspective.
Speaking of that, I read a blog a few days ago where the writer was talking about absolute truth and our inability to perceive much of it. I agree. There is absolute truth everywhere, but we have difficulty perceiving and understanding it without the biases of our life experiences, perceptions, and incomplete knowledge base. Each of us has our own reality in a very “real” sense. What is reality for me may have no basis in your life experience or knowledge base. The miracle of it all is that we get along as well as we do in spite of our biases and prejudices.
So where does that put the absolute truth of God-breathed words, as many Christians consider the Holy Bible to be? What do we do with that truth? How do we process it? How can we correctly interpret and make useful that truth given our biases, prejudices, and incomplete knowledge? How can we possibly know, as Jesus says, “The truth, and the truth shall make you free?” How can we all agree when we all have different realities to which we relate and in which we live?
I don’t honestly know the answer to this because to take this to its logical conclusion is to admit that we are hopelessly lost in a morass of human frailty and ignorance. For I suspect that we will never in this life know the pure and unvarnished truth of God and His Word, Jesus Christ. I also suspect that the grace of God is covering a whale of a lot of incomplete and inaccurate interpretation and understanding of that truth. But I also suspect that God knows all of this and makes allowances for our fallibility as well as giving us the promise that one day, we will know just as we are known (Paul in the first Corinthian letter).

Spider Update

I told you yesterday about the orb spider that had made a web off of our front porch. I went outside this morning to retrieve the Sunday paper and looked at where the web had been. There was no trace of a web…no floating stringers, nothing.
I don’t think it was destroyed by out side “forces” as there would probably be remnants of the web somewhere around. I am told that many orb spiders spin the web for a short time only to eat it later and spin another one the next night. I don’t know if this is what happened or not, but I plan to look there tonight to see if she is there.

Role Model

Normally, I read “Parade” magazine, which is included in our Sunday newspaper. There isn’t usually that much in there that interests me, but some of the continuing columns, etc. have value to me. This week, however, I was taken by an article about the chief of police of Washington, D.C.
Her name (yes, “her”) is Cathy Lanier and she is a great example of someone who has not only overcome her childhood and teen years (she was a pregnant high school drop-out at age 14), but has taken on the (still predominantly) male establishment with grit and toughness.
I don’t know any more about her than what is in the article (http://www.parade.com/news/2009/08/02-new-ways-to-stop-crime.html) but I always like to hear stories like this. It does my heart good to know that people can indeed rise above the circumstance of life they are in and be a good role model for others in a similar situation. I am especially pleased when women or minorities are featured in ways such as this and hope the day will come when this kind of success becomes the total norm for everyone.

Spiders and Things

Tonight I saw the first orb spider and her web outside. Is that a harbinger of the fall season to come?
I had gone out the front door to just look around about 10:15 tonight and saw right beside the outdoor light a web and large orb spider right in the middle of it. She had built in a good place as the light was on and was attracting bugs. It looked like a few had already been caught.
I am fascinated by these spiders and the engineering that they do when they build a web. They must have a sense of where they are and what is in their near environment in order to fasten the web to the right places. They must also have some sense of weather, wind, and other factors.
I’ve never seen a spider build a web. I’d love to do that. One of these days, maybe I’ll get the chance.
Otherwise, this day was a great day. The temperature was about 80 degrees and the wind was cool from the north. There were birds and dragonflies in the air and the day was one of general chores and relaxation from the harried work week just past. Those kinds of days are few and far between, it seems.
Tomorrow will be warmer, but pleasant, they say. Perhaps by evening I’ll be ready for the work week to come, but for now I’ll enjoy this evening and night.

Saturday Things

After a week at work that seemed to be one disaster after another, waking up today at 8:45am was almost heaven. I must have been really tired because a storm came through last night and I never heard it. Normally, I hear those things readily and wake up.
So this morning has been slow so far. I’ve made coffee, checked the rain gauge (just over an inch) and read the paper. On the agenda today is checking out a tire store for new tires for the car and let’s see…what else was there?
My sister and sister-in-law are spending their last few days on vacation before they start back with their respective school systems. One is a teacher; the other a psychologist. The teacher says she has been working to get ready for the fall for some time now, and even the psychologist has things to do over the summer break.
Although it seems that the summer break is a long time off for school employees, and although I joke with them about it from time to time, I know that when they are at work, they give 110% . in an environment and in a job that not many can do because very few have what it takes to do the job and do it right. The time off is well-earned.
It’s kind of like all of the complaints I’m hearing nowadays regarding President Obama’s frequent trips to here or there, sometimes with his family in tow. The man is the leader of the free world, for heaven’s sake. I don’t care what the person’s politics is…whatever “perks” one might receive do not adequately compensate for the stress, turmoil, responsibility, and constant living in a glass house that come with the presidency.
They earn Secret Service protection after they are no longer President. They earn generous stipends to maintain an office after leaving office. They earn the pension given to each of them. They earn the permanent respect and dignity that befalls such service.
I suppose it’s time to get up and do something, even if it’s wrong. I enjoy days like this and hope your Saturday is just as enjoyable.

Spelt Bread

As I said in an earlier blog, we went to a farmer’s market last Saturday. There were many, many booths there and lots of people, both sellers and buyers. We went past one booth toward the back of the lot and I noticed they were selling breads. Normally, I don’t stop for those as I have no need for more bread in my diet. However, the brightly colored labels caught my eye and I stopped for just an instant.
That’s all it took for the woman at the booth to strike up a conversation with me, telling me that the bread I was looking at was made with spelt. Not knowing what spelt was, I asked.
“It’s a relative of wheat, but makes a bread that is sweeter and nuttier,” according to the woman at the booth.
I bought a loaf and brought it home. It’s been a wonderful experience. Toasted just right, with butter (actually something called “Move Over Butter”) and my homemade pear jelly, it’s a great dessert to any meal. As you might guess, the loaf is now history.
A couple of thoughts here. First, the bakery where this was made is in the 1900 block of East 21st Street in Wichita. That’s out by WSU somewhere. I’d like to go out there sometime and see where it is and what else they may have to sell.
Second, the bread contained, according to the label, “No animal products or by-products.” Olive oil, spelt, sea salt, and other non-animal things were all that was in the bread. There were also no preservatives. I’m not vegetarian, but this bread would fill the bill for someone who was, and won’t hurt me a bit.
Third (and this is the reason for the blog), I said at the outset that I normally didn’t buy breads and pastries at places like this. I did buy a loaf of bread from this woman, however. Why? Because she engaged me right away and sold me on the product. Most all of the other booth people just watched as people looked at their products. They didn’t engage in conversation, try to sell the product, or make any real effort to distinguish their tomatoes from those sold by their neighbor.
This woman, however, was different. She was energetic, knowledgeable, and engaging. I bought a loaf at least in part because she made the effort to sell it. I know I didn’t make or break her day with one loaf of bread; however, she got her product into a household that previously did not have it, and information about her product has now appeared on a blog. Where else that information will go is anyone’s guess.

One With the Plunger

I know this is two blogs in one day (three in two days), but I have to say this yet. A couple of weeks ago, I was called into work after hours to fix a toilet that wasn’t flushing. (If you have a weak stomach, you might want to reconsider whether you want to finish this or not). The aide that called said she had worked with the plunger but couldn’t clear the clog and hoped I would come in and use the “snake” on it. She said they had given the resident of that room a laxative, and it was vital (my word, not hers) to have properly-working plumbing.
I went in, looked over the situation, and decided that although it appeared rather grim, to just use the plunger again. It took some effort, and I had to use a couple of tricks (you didn’t know plunging a potty had any “tricks”, did you), but eventually got everything working without having to resort to the “snake”.
I cleaned things up and went to tell the aide that it was now working. She asked me if I used the “snake” and I told her that I used the plunger instead. She again told me that she couldn’t do it with the plunger and asked me how I did it. I just told her I had to “finesse” it a little, but it all came out well in the end (groan).
She then said, “Oh, so you had to become one with the plunger?”
I laughed and said, “Something like that,” and went on my way.
Being a little more serious here, I don’t know that being “one” with the plunger was the right way to put it, but the thought has merit for whatever we do, it seems. I’m beginning to think that the more we can become “one” with our task or responsibility, the better we can accomplish that task.
What do you think? Are there tasks and responsibilities in life that just don’t call for this kind of devotion? Or is this a good general principle that we could embrace a little more than we sometimes do?

The Market

We went to the farmer’s market this morning. We arrived about 8am and were greeted by “hordes of people” shopping for good deals in produce, household items, decorative plants, crafts, etc. We went for the produce, so I wasn’t very interested in looking at what my sister calls “crippy-crap” things.
There were lots and lots of tomatoes, a good amount of squash and similar items, eggs, potatoes, and scatterings of green beans, rhubarb, beets, watermelon, and other goodies. There were also several bakery-type stands with breads, rolls, pies, and other pastries and sweets.
We got tomatoes, sweet corn, and several of perhaps the only peaches that grew in Kansas this year. If you don’t know, there are virtually no peaches, pears, etc this year due to a late freeze this spring. Most trees are barren of any fruit. However, these peaches came, the woman said, from the Ottawa, Kansas area, and she was ecstatic that she had any fruit at all this year. The peaches were at a stand on the back side of the market, but they were going quickly and she had a limited supply.
We also bought a loaf of bread from a bakery whose address is in the 1900 block of East 21st Street in Wichita. I’m eager to try it with some of my homemade peach and blackberry jelly from last year’s crop. I’d love to find some purple (concord) grapes somewhere and make jelly this year from them. When we lived in Western Kansas, a neighbor had some frozen grape product that she gave me. I strained it and made some sooo good jelly. I’d like to do that again.
We will probably visit the market again soon. Cantaloupe are just now coming into season and there will be more tomatoes, melons, and other produce as the summer winds down. Then this winter, we’ll have to “make do” with what we find in the produce aisles of the local stores…always second-rate compared to fresh from the garden.

MHIP

We live in an interesting (to say the least) time. Pick virtually any subject, and something is happening in that area of life and the world, it seems. Politics? It’s all over the place and seems to be something that just grows and smothers anything that is in the way. Religion? Seems like there’s always some “new” thought or someone who uses religion for some nefarious purpose of some kind. Climate and weather? Global warming is just the half of it. Rain, drought, big storms and others all contribute to the cacophony. Relationships? We’re always and constantly re-defining relationships. Technology? Anything in technology that goes into print is dated as soon as it’s printed.
You get the idea. The world seems to be going ever faster all the time and we who have made it that way seem to be playing catch up more and more. We are inundated with knowledge, deluged with problems and issues, and drowned out with the ever-faster pace of life.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. We don’t have to play the game. We can, to an extent anyway, set our own pace. Some people even chuck it all together and do very well living at a much slower pace. The Amish come to mind first. But there are others, religious or not, that have learned to get off of the treadmill and begin to live.
And as we age, I think we slow down in more ways than just physical. It isn’t so important to us anymore that we keep up with everything. We don’t have to have the latest this or that. And we don’t care what others think about that.
I often wondered, when I was younger, if I would ever be like those who were older in this respect. I find myself now moving inexorably in that direction and not minding a bit. MHIP (Maturity has its privileges)

Are We?

Our minister this morning quoted an unnamed person as saying that some people “are sedated by the monotony of a life that is too small for the breath of God that is within them.”
For some reason that quote really struck a nerve with me. I don’t know if I’m guilty of that kind of living or not. I do know, however, that even our stretching our lives and living to the extreme will not be “adequate” for the breath of God that is within us. And if we’re not stretching living to the extreme, are we indeed guilty of wasting, so to speak, the energy, resources, power and depth of God that even now resides within us?
I’m not going to comment further on this except to ask you to look at your life and ask yourself if you fit the quote (or if the quote fits you). If the reality what we are doesn’t grab us by the guts and make us take notice, maybe we indeed are “sedated by the monotony.” And that would be so sad, indeed.

What a Week

Well, the week is over. And what a week it was! I won’t go into all the details, but all of the descendants of my mom and dad were here except for three who couldn’t make it. It was a lot of work, but well worth everything we put into it.
We renewed contact with those we haven’t seen for some time. We solidified even more our ties to one another and welcomed new members of the family. And of course, we ate. We ate, visited, ate some more, took in the sights (yes, there are indeed things to do in the Wichita area), and generally had a great time.
We also spent a few hours with some relatives on my mother’s side. We took our show to Hesston, Kansas and had a family worship service there along with a couple of uncles, a cousin, and other family members. If there was any time that was truly special and extraordinary, this was it.
So it’s done for another year. How many more of these we’ll be able to do is anyone’s guess. But we’re not getting younger, and some of us are getting downright geriatric. But we’ll continue until it just doesn’t work anymore and hope that the younger ones will take on the tradition of meeting together from time to time.
Thanks to all who made this past week possible. And thanks to all for the sacrifices, work, and effort.

An Apparition

Today we are saying good bye to our house guests, who will move over to our son’s home for the rest of the week. Our other son will stay here and we will welcome my oldest brother and his family sometime this afternoon. That seems like a lot of moving and work, but our son wasn’t home until Monday, having gone to a wedding on the other side of the family in Colorado over the weekend. So sis and her family stayed with us until they got back and settled back in.
So we’re washing towels and bedding, taking out trash and running errands. We’re also wondering about the coming heat wave that has been predicted for here. Highs are to be 100 or greater for the next several days. I changed out the filter in the furnace and cleaned out the air conditioner coils outside. Other than that, I can only hope that everything holds together over these next several days as we will host nine in our home.
As I look over at the basement bar, I see a stack of paper plates, a huge package of napkins, several cases of the snack-size chips, and a tub with assorted paper towels, utensils, etc. overflowing out the top. Our guests are carting out their suitcases, trying to get everything back into the car that came out of it a few days ago. They will be hanging around here for a few more hours before moving, but are removing their belongings from the bedrooms so we can get them ready for the other families.
And here I am sitting here typing on the blog with all of this other activity around me. Sometimes I feel like a kind of an apparition observing the goings on around me, but not quite into the reality of what is happening. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen very often and I see that it will be only a couple of minutes until I need to move the wash along and empty the trash. So much for being an apparition.

The Reunion

Things are becoming somewhat busy at our home this week. We have house guests who have arrived early for the reunion which starts tomorrow afternoon. And we’ve been running errands, buying food, moving chairs, and doing the other things that are necessary to host forty people at our home. I made a list this morning and think I got about everything done, but of course there will be something I forgot. It will be OK, though. We will get through the week just fine.
We’ve been looking forward to this for almost a year. Even though we get together each year, this reunion seems to be a little different. Most everyone in the family will be coming and we will not be staying in a motel, unlike the past many reunions. My brother, son, and I will be putting up all who come. My sister is working with food and other aspects of the reunion and is also keeping us all organized and on track.
Reunions can be great things being and interacting with those we don’t often see, or they can be a lot of work and frayed nerves. Ours have been great things in the past and I don’t see any changes this year. We are close as a family and easily forgive the good-natured jabs that sometimes come our way from a loved one. We know our family well and seem to genuinely enjoy having others around.
This year we’re going to Hesston to have family services with a couple of uncles and a cousin. This will be an extra-special time for all of us and we appreciate being able to do this. Time on this earth is drawing to a close for many of us. We never know, even if we’re younger, how much time we have available here. To make the most of the time we have been given is good, and we think being with family is one way we can do that.
So, these next several days will be a bit crazy, but interesting (to say the least), fulfilling, and fun. Memories will be made and we’ll catch up on the lives of the others in the family. What a fun time this will be!

Another Day

This, the end of another day, is the day before Independence Day. The neighborhood is lit up and noisy as various fireworks, legal and illegal, find their way into the evening sky. I don’t mind the illegal stuff…I was brought up with it and appreciate the responsibility of using the stuff wisely. Still, there is the law….
Today I went to the rehab center and listened to my sister, nephew and niece in a piano concert for the residents. They played, sang, did duets, sang hymns, cowboy songs, etc. They did a good job, worked about an hour, and had the adoration of about half of the residents in the place who came to listen.
I hope sis knows how blessed she is that she can play duets with her grown son, sing with her daughter, and enjoy a musical time together. And I hope they also appreciate their mom and her talent and ability to make music in the air by looking at splotches of ink on paper and translating that into notes on a piano.
Having a good relationship with your grown kids is a really cool experience. And doing something with them that you all enjoy, such as singing and playing, is all the more fun and satisfying.
I enjoy working with my son. He does I/T at the rehab center one afternoon a week. Even that small time is a time I truly enjoy, knowing how much he has (and is) growing to maturity, and marveling at his knowledge of things I can only wonder about. He’s truly a help to me and to all of us there even though he only works a few hours a week.
Tomorrow is, should we be blessed with it, yet another day. We’ll have 24 hours to use. I wonder what we’ll do with all that time?

No Other Way

I’ve been doing some thinking ever since last Sunday. We visited church at the place where we were married last Sunday. In the services, they sang ‘Showers of Blessings”. I don’t like that song because the words say, in part, “Mercy drops (of blessings) around us are falling; but for the showers we plead.”
I think that’s asking a bit much. Here we are in the most prosperous nation on earth and most of us have a roof over our heads and something to eat and wear and much in abundance more, and we sing a song that asks for even more blessings. That takes some nerve.
Anyway, all of that got me to thinking about where we were just a short time ago and where we are now. In November of 2007, we were homeless and were staying in my brother’s bedroom in their house. We had no job, but did have unemployment. We had health insurance courtesy of our church paying the premium and had food and clothing. We weren’t in as bad of shape as many, but for us we were in kind of a bad spot. We lost our jobs at the same time and on no notice. We felt somewhat betrayed by what happened and were left to wonder just what was going on.
So what did we ask God for during that time? Well, let’s see. The list was rather short (at least mine was). I asked for emotional healing from the job loss, work that I could do, a place of our own to live, and beyond that wished for jobs for us that were good enough that we could finally start putting some serious money aside for retirement. Better to start late than not at all, I guess.
In November of 2007, all of that seemed like a pipe dream. Let’s look now and see where we are and what happened. The healing has begun and is continuing. We are much farther along with that than we thought we would be. We both have work that we like to do. We are being paid good salaries and have health and dental insurance, a retirement program, etc. We have a beautiful place to live that we never would have thought we could have found, let alone afforded. And we are indeed putting aside serious money for retirement…in fact, we are stashing cash away monthly that is within a few dollars of what I had thought we would need to do but never would have dreamed that we COULD have done. In addition we got rid of a rather large debt, are putting resources away in good real estate in addition to the cash savings, and are not worrying about paying bills or cash flow.
On top of that we have apparently good health for our ages and have many of the amenities of life…good friends and family, and the “things” that make life easier.
So what happened here? Did all of this just fall into place by happenstance or by our work and tenacity? Some would say yes. And we did have to see the ad in the newspaper, follow up on the ad, submit a resume, etc. And we did have to sign mortgage papers and work hard over the past many years for a good credit rating that enabled us to buy a place. But if you only look at that, you’re missing something.
We are being blessed with “abundantly more” than we asked some 18 months ago. If we’d be doing this on our own, we wouldn’t be where we are and have what we have. We would have been satisfied long ago.
So this isn’t our doing, and it isn’t the doing of coincidence. This is a deliberate act, I believe, on the part of Someone greater than we in response to the cries of two of His children. I can see it no other way.

Going Home

We just came back from a weekend out of town. Tomorrow (Monday) is our 35th anniversary, so we spent the weekend in Northwest Kansas where we met and it all began. There was a bed and breakfast in the community and we stayed there, toured the town, reminisced, drove by places where we used to hang out, live, work, etc., and generally had a good time.
However, that place seemed to be a totally “other world” from what I now know. Always before when we would visit there for some reason, it seemed like a place that was inviting and comfortable. And although I felt comfortable and welcome there, it wasn’t quite the same as it had been before.
I don’t know what changed, but at the close of lunch with friends at a restaurant, I told my wife (quietly) that I was ready to go. As we left the restaurant, I told her that it was time to go home (meaning that I was ready to get back to where we live). I felt no “longing” to stay as the community receded in the rear-view mirror.
I may not be there yet, but one of these days I hope to be able to say the same things about going home to the place that Jesus is preparing for me. As the song says (I can’t remember its name), “There’s nothing to keep me here,” referring to making that final trip at death. The longer I live the more I understand that there really is nothing here that is so important that going home will have to wait.
All in all it was a great weekend of remembering, and sometimes forgetting what I should have remembered. We are blessed to have been able to do it and look forward to the next 35 years.

A Sad Closing

So, the Crown Uptown Theater in Wichita is closing up. I read about that in today’s Wichita Eagle. That’s sad, but I can understand how, in this economy and with the death of Ted Morris some months ago how that could happen.
Mr. Morris was the driving force…creator, owner, and mover behind the Crown. His wife took over operations following his death, and said that she wanted to get out while she still had the money to pay bills, etc. She blamed the economy, but I suspect that they lost some customers due to Mr. Morris not being there any more. Others may not have bought seats figuring the performances somehow were not as good as before. I don’t think any of that would be true, but you know how illogical we consumers can be.
We weren’t regulars at the Crown, but we did attend from time to time and bought season tickets once or twice. Yes, it was somewhat pricey. One could easily spend a hundred dollars for a couple there in a night. But the live shows were, for the most part, well worth the money and the meals were usually good.
Not only is that one less venue for a night out, but it puts a number of people out of work in our community. I know we should be used to that by now, but I cringe a little each time I hear of layoffs here or closings there, knowing that there will be people filing for unemployment, hitting the streets (or the Internet) with a resume, or just wondering what to do next. I’ve been there, done that, and it isn’t fun.
I know they served alcohol there and some of their shows didn’t seem appropriate for my sense of “sensibility”. But to borrow a phrase from my brother, “You can’t sling a dead cat” without hitting a restaurant in Wichita that serves alcohol. One would have to eat at McDonalds or Burger King almost exclusively if one were to avoid the places that served alcohol. I don’t know about you, but I don’t care to try that.
One can also decide which shows to patronize and which to pass. That’s one reason we didn’t buy season tickets any more than we did. Some years the show line up didn’t have what we thought we wanted to see.
In any event, it’s a sadder day in this community because of the closing of the Crown. They worked hard there and it’s been a good run.

My Soapbox (Again)

As I understand it, statistically, about 2/3 of all Social Security disability benefit applications are initially denied for one reason or another. Of those who go ahead with the appeal process, about 2/3 are subsequently approved. Oh, another statistic. The normal backlog of disability claims is up to about 500 days, twice what it was several years ago.
Does this sound like your government doing all it can to serve you? Or does this sound like bureaucracy that is broken, yet going through the motions?
One more thing. Do you realize that this has been going on for years? This isn’t a recent thing. And those who are in charge have known about this problem for a long, long time and have yet to do anything to substantially change and improve the system.
I don’t often get on my soapbox in this blog, but this is worth mentioning. I don’t know if you’ve applied for disability benefits or if you will; but if you do, understand you have an uphill climb ahead. It’s no wonder that there are lawyers out there who advertise on TV saying that they can help you navigate the disability claims process. They’re probably needed in many cases so the ordinary person won’t make some error that will permanently bar them from the claims process.
I know the process needs to be strict enough to weed out those who would abuse the system. But isn’t there a way to do that, yet get the people who have need the benefits that they have coming to them? I don’t know the answer to that, but would hope that someone somehow would find out.

Deeds Follow

I’m not sure what to make of those of you who never blog because you can’t find anything about which to write. Several times in the past few days I’ve run across something that prompts a thought that it might make for a good blog entry. Now, I’ll admit that when I actually sit down to write, that thought doesn’t seem nearly as good as it did when I first thought about it, but who’s counting.
I’ll not give you the specifics, but this past week at work I ran across a situation where the professional who installed an item knew at the time that he was installing it incorrectly (because of what it was, he HAD to have known), yet he installed it anyway and tried to cover what he did. This wasn’t just any yokel from down the street. If I told you the name of the plumbing and heating contractor that did this, you folks in the immediate Wichita area would know right away who it was.
In any event, I contacted the general contractor who did our building and let loose with one of my “not acceptable” speeches. The general contractor generously provided a man to contact the offending company, stay with the repairs, and make sure that they were done as they should have been done. They will even improve the installation with things not in the original plan at no cost to me.
I guess that’s OK, but that doesn’t change my perception of this plumbing/heating contractor as someone who just doesn’t give a rip. And it’s not just this incident, but others I’ve encountered over time that have solidified that perception in my mind. I’d not use him at my home if he would be the last heating guy in Wichita. I’d sooner shiver in a cold house than to use him. OK, well maybe not THAT, but close.
Why do people do things like that? What drives them to cut corners, do shoddy work, and cheat on something that should be done correctly? Is it greed? Stupidity? Ignorance? Laziness? I don’t know the answer to that, and I suspect it’s not quite that simple and easy. Nevertheless, it’s a pain in the rear to have to go back later on and fix what should have been done right the first time.
I know I’m not perfect. I know I’ve cut corners. I know I’ve been lazy. And I know that I’ve been stupid. Those times, however, were I believe few and far between. I was always taught to do it right and do my best, especially if someone else was paying for the service. By and large, I think I’ve tried to live that way.
I now wonder what else this contractor did at my workplace that is not up to snuff and that I will find one of these days. kind of makes one just a wee bit nervous. Thankfully, he is NOT working on our new facility in Derby. Someone else has that bid.
It really is true that our deeds follow us. I wonder why so many seem to have trouble believing that.

Some Days

Sometimes, when one begins to complain about the weather, it pays to see what other people are dealing with weather-wise. The forecast for tomorrow (for the South Pole) is a high of 40 below with a chance of snow and overcast. The wind chill is expected to be about 86 below. Now, something like that immediately causes one to pause and be thankful for what seem to be the small things in life.
Today was OK for me regarding weather, but work was a bummer. It seems things are breaking faster than we can repair them. I know the building is only a year and a half old, but this is getting ridiculous. Part of the problem, as I found out today, is contractors that do a shoddy job and try to cover it up. It works for awhile, then something happens and everything goes down the tubes.
On a better note, we have a new housekeeper who seems to be doing a good job. She garnered three compliments today from different people, and seemed to pick up on the job rather quickly.
Now, before you go off and say, “It’s just a housekeeping job. How hard can that be?” I need to tell you that this is in a nursing home, and the job is not menial, not mundane, and certainly not for those unwilling to work or who don’t know how to take direction. The State of Kansas and CMS (Medicare and Medicaid) regulate nursing homes to the nth degree, including housekeepers. It’s not for the person with a casual or cavalier attitude toward work.
Tomorrow is Friday. That’s always good. Hopefully, things will sort of come together tomorrow at work and the weekend will be pleasant.

The Week That Was

I’ve been a little slow to write recently. A lot has happened in the past seven days, much of it not good. You all are aware that Wichita is now going through the death of Dr. George Tiller. That has affected everyone here regardless of what side of the abortion debate one is on, or if one even has a side. I know that all murders should probably rate this same kind of condemnation and coverage, but the fact is that they don’t. Some are just more high profile than others and this is one of those.
Our church is changing its name beginning June 1. That is exciting for us as it helps usher in other plans for the future as well. I enjoy where we worship and fellowship and am thankful God brought us to that place.
I am having issues with one of my employees at work, and will have to deal with that next week. I never enjoy having to do these kinds of things even though I have managed other people for many years. Contrary to the Dilbert comic strip where Catbert, evil Human Resources Director, enjoys torturing employees, for me anyway it’s never a pleasant thing or something I look forward to. I’ll be glad when the day is done on Monday.
I need to prepare a Bible class for this summer session. I’m teaching only one topic, but will give the lesson four times as we rotate through four adult classes. My topic is “Washing the Disciples’ Feet.” All summer we are devoting classes to stories and topics in the Bible having to do with water. I felt almost uniquely qualified to teach this class as I probably am the only one of the list of teachers who has ever actually done this as part of a religious observance. I don’t know if the church of my heritage still practices this or not…Wayne, maybe you can help enlighten me on that (also, Wayne, if you have any thoughts, ideas, resources etc. on the subject that you could share, I’d like to hear them)…but I will always be grateful for the lessons it taught me, even at the young age I was when I participated.
I’m not sure that there is any specific and strict command out of Scripture that tells us we need to literally wash one-another’s feet, but to do that in a proper and dignified occasion is indeed a great symbol of our call to serve, which is specific.
And while we’re on the subject, I wish sometimes we would practice the act of kneeling before our God and Maker from time to time. Again, there is no specific command, I think, but we sometimes are so “casual” in approaching our God in prayer and worship. Somehow, I don’t think we’ll stand in awe of Him as the song says, but rather I think we’ll be face down prostrate on the ground for a time until His gentle hand helps us up. Kneeling helps us have a more clear understanding, I think, of that eternal moment.
Today we’ll spend much of the day in Central Kansas at a birthday celebration. We’ll be leaving momentarily, so I need to sign off. Have a good weekend.

To Serve With Honor

I want to do something in this blog that I don’t often do. I am reprinting an article that appeared in the May, 2009 issue of Wichita Family magazine. The article was written by Kristi Smith.
I know the officer who is featured in the article. He grew up in my hometown. I served on City Council and as an EMS volunteer during a time when he served on the local police force, learning and growing in his profession. He is an honorable man and truly lives by the words, “To Serve With Honor.”
When we worked with the girls’ home a few years ago, some of our girls attended Marshall Middle School. Carlos was the resource officer there. It was obvious as he walked the halls that he had a great rapport with the kids and knew why he was there. In many ways, I think he saw some aspects of his own life in the lives of some of the kids for whom he provided a safe place to study and learn. I commend the article to you.
“TO SERVE WITH HONOR” that’s the motto he lives by but the dream that started as a child never told him he would carry a bullet for the rest of his life. Wichita Police Officer Carlos Atondo is a remarkable officer that serves with honor everyday. As a child living in Mexico, Carlos dreamed of someday living in the United States and being a police officer. After moving to Harper, Kansas at the age of six, that dream grew for many years until Carlos became a US citizen at the age of 25. Carlos’ dad was a reserve officer and Carlos had many role models and friends that were police officers and kept his dream alive. As soon as he could, he entered the Kansas Law Enforcement Training Center and began living his dream. For the last twelve years, Officer Atondo has been with the Wichita Police Department. He has worked many details such us beat patrol, SCAT officer and school resource officer.
In the very early hours of the morning in July 2007, Officer Atondo was parking his cruiser at the patrol north substation and ready to call it a night when a call came across his radio of a shooting in the area. He and his supervisor quickly made it to the scene, which was an apartment building and as Officer Atondo made it to the top of the stairwell, the shooter opened fire on the officers. Officer Atondo was hit just below his body armor in the lower abdominal area. He fell down the stairs and then backed out of the building. Officer Atondo believed at the time that this would be his last night at work and the things that came to mind were his wife and daughters. He remembers looking at the stars in the sky and praying for the Lord to take care of his family. He also remembers the fright and an intense burning pain. He did not know at the time how badly he had been hurt or what damage had been done. Ultimately, Officer Atondo would spend five days in the hospital and make a full recovery but nothing comes without a price.
Officer Atondo has spent most of his life helping others and giving of his self back to his community. He is assigned to a middle school in a Hispanic area of the city because he is bi-lingual and can relate to the students very well. He has volunteered with Big Brothers-Big Sisters, the Down’s syndrome Society, the Wichita Children’s Home, and Heart Spring, all of which came to a quick stop when he was shot. He now had not only physical healing but also psychological healing. He had to overcome the flashbacks, the memories of the pain, the affects on his family and the thought of another call similar to this if he went back to police work. Officer Atondo gives credit to many friends and family for his recovery. Two people most often thought of as a great inspiration to him are Officers James and Derick Espinoza. James stayed with Officer Atondo from the crime scene to the operating room, never leaving his side. Derick spent many hours at the hospital with Officer Atondo and even slept in the room with him when the pain and memories became too much. He also credits Jose’ Salcido for giving him strength and pulling him through.
After 6 months of recuperation, Officer Atondo returned to work. This summer he will be working with the same supervisor and doing the same job for the first time since July of 07. This time Officer Atondo will carry one more bullet than the ones in his gun belt. He will for the rest of his life carry a 9 mm bullet in his abdomen to remind him of the cost of the honor he stands for everyday.
This Officer is one of the most humble and caring officers that any police department could employ. He exemplifies all the standards and professionalism that the Wichita Police Department wants in an officer and the department is very lucky to have him on their team. Every citizen in Wichita should take a moment to get to know a local police officer and they may find another one like Officer Atondo.

Bearing the Pall

I was asked today to be a pallbearer at the funeral of a woman who attended our church and was a friend of ours. That is one of those things that you just say “Yes,” and do, rather than say something inane like, “I’ll get back with you on that.” I understand that not many women are ever asked to bear the casket for a friend, and I’m not sure why not. I guess it has to do with tradition, but I know that men usually do those honors. I suppose it comes from days gone by when the casket had to be carried some distance from the church to the cemetery, and men were asked to perform that service due to their relative strength.
And it is an honor to be asked and to serve in this way. Oh, I know that pallbearers are not really necessary. The funeral people are quite capable of moving the casket anywhere they need to move it with or without the help of six or eight volunteer men. But it’s just one of those things you do in honor of the deceased and to honor and recognize the family.
It also provides a connection with those traditions and customs of the past. Even though bearing the casket is no longer something that needs to be done by six or eight volunteers, there is a dignity and a solemnity to both the office and the act. The pallbearer in a real sense represents the family. He does the same act that countless men (and a few women) have done over many, many years. He serves the one whose remains lie inside the casket. And he pays his respects to the deceased, the family, and the tradition.
I’ve borne a casket several times in my lifetime. It has been an honor and privilege to serve each time I was asked. There will come a day (sooner rather than later) when I’ll not be able physically to do it any more. I never look forward to carrying a casket, but I have always done it when asked.
For, you see, the carrying of the casket is also a reminder to me that I am mortal, and that one day my remains may well be carried by men chosen by my family…men who will carry the tradition on into the next generation and one day pass it down to the generation following.

The Adventure Continues

It’s been a tiring day. I think there’s a little lag of some sort that comes after a long trip such as we did over the holiday weekend. Then it catches up with you a day or two after you get back and you feel like you’ve been run over by a truck. I hurt everywhere, and it’s an effort to get up and walk. The bed will feel extra good tonight.
However, today wasn’t lost or wasted at all. We started the morning with some drizzle and clouds, and the clouds stayed most of the day. That made for a cool, wonderful day outside.
Then this evening there was a brief, but memorable display in the western sky as the sun set in a partly cloudy sky. As the sun illuminated the underneath side of the clouds that were hanging in the sky, blues, reds, purples, and oranges filled the expanse. It lasted no more than a minute or so, but was one of the more colorful skies I’ve seen in awhile.
One of these times, I’ll have to reprint an article I wrote a few years ago. That was the time I was privileged to see a rainbow in the western sky right at sun-up. The amazing thing about it was that the light from the rising sun was traveling under the cloud layer overhead and created a rainbow below that layer off to the southwest. I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.
This coming Saturday is the traditional Memorial Day (30th). I may go to the cemetery on that day since I didn’t have the chance on the Monday holiday. It’s always good to visit once in awhile and renew the connections in one’s mind with the remains of those who are buried there. It also is a good time to remember one’s own mortality.
I think tomorrow will be better. I should feel better and it’s getting toward the end of the week and the end of the month. The days and months are hurtling by, it seems. It’ll be about three weeks and it will start snowing, as it will be December already. The Adventure Continues.

Labor of Love

The following is the text of an email I sent to a church in the Des Moines area recently after we visited there. I thought you might want to read it.

My wife and I have traveled extensively in our 35 years together and have stopped by to visit many churches in our brotherhood over the years. From Cooperstown, New York to Lubbock, Texas and many places in between, we have found and worshiped with Churches of Christ. The experience of doing that has been memorable...sometimes in good ways and sometimes in not-so-good ways. It has been several years since we last had the opportunity to stop in on a morning or evening (or Wednesday, for that matter) service and we thought we would do so this evening as we were going to be in Des Moines on a Sunday evening.
We checked out the Des Moines area online in the national directory of Churches of Christ and found that the Grandview Church of Christ held evening services and wasn't that far from our motel in Ankeny. I decided to “try you out” and see what kind of memorable experience we would have.
We arrived with our son Scott at about 5:45 and were greeted by a young lady at the door. We asked if this was the right door to enter and she assured us it was. From that time on through the entire three hours or so we were with you, we felt as if we were among people of like mind who truly cared about the visitors in their midst and went out of their way to help out and make us at home.
We had been in the building no more than about 3 minutes when we were invited to the picnic that followed services. That invitation was repeated over the next hour by at least four more people and possibly more (I lost count). We found that we had common interest in the (name redacted) family, had common interest in people and places in Kansas, had common interest in our travels, and above all had common interest in glorifying our God and Maker.
The folks we met were easy to visit with, genuine, and without pretense. They listened when we spoke and talked easily of commonality, which made our visit pleasant and enjoyable. The singing was great, the prayers were heartfelt, and the lesson was powerful. The picnic was truly the crown of a royal evening spent with brothers and sisters previously unknown.
Occasionally, we have opportunity to pass through Des Moines (three or four times or so in 10 years). We will always remember our visit with you and be encouraged as we pass through on I-80. We probably will turn to our spouse and say, “Remember when we stayed in Des Moines that Sunday evening and went to church here?” We then will talk of this evening with fondness and affection.
If we never meet again this side of heaven (to borrow the lyrics of an old song), know that you folks will always be in our hearts and that we will think of you with great pleasure and satisfaction; knowing that you too are laboring with love and joy in the service of the Master.

On Vacation

We are on vacation, so to speak, this weekend. Our trip is actually to witness the wedding of our nephew with a great young woman from Wisconsin, so we're in Wisconsin today with the wedding tomorrow.
We drove from Wichita yesterday to the quad cities area (quickly, name the quad cities of Illinois/Iowa). Today we finished the trip to the pennisula of Wisconsin on past Green Bay. The wedding will be tomorrow, then Sunday we'll begin the two day trek home, staying in Des Moines Sunday evening.
Of course, I have a few observations to make and want to make them now (at 11pm) before I forget. The first is how well-kept the farm steads are in Illinois and parts of Wisconsin. They are generally well groomed. The outbuildings are generally in good repair and painted, and many of them have a postcard look. It's obvious that farmers in this area are proud of where they live and work hard to keep their places in shape.
Second, there are a lot of silos on the farms up here. Silos in Kansas are falling down with lack of use and upkeep, but up here, it seems they are still being used and are an intregal part of farm life.
Third, I would look out over a 180 degree span and count as many as 12 to 15 farmsteads within just a couple of miles of where we were at any given point on our travel. Farmsteads in Illinois are everywhere!
Now the penninsula of Wisconson is another story. It's beautiful up here! The weather is great, about what we experience in Kansas in mid April. Spring is bursting out all over and it's just a gorgeous place, at least this year at this time of the year. There's water everywhere, and it's not all in Lake Michigan. People are friendly and we are truly enjoying our time here with the future in-laws and with the people of Door County, Wisconsin. I may have more to say on that later.
Suffice it to say now that although we won't be here long, this part of our country has already endeared me to itself. I know that the winters can be long and hard. I know that it isn't always picture perfect as it seems to be now. But this is a place I may want to visit again when we have more time.
Dan and Dara, good health and a good marriage to you two. Take the principles with you into this relationship that you learned from your respective families and create your own family...your own reality...your own spot in this beautiful place that God has provided for you.

Ants

I was out in the back yard this afternoon…a bright, sunny day with a breeze and temperatures in the 70’s. I had some small decorative rocks to move out of a flower bed so I could clean it and get it ready for some annual flower seed. I picked up one rock that was laying flat on the ground. As soon as I did, I saw that an ant colony had taken up residence under the rock. There were several trails and some white ant eggs there where the rock had been, along with three or four holes into the ground.
Of course, the ants seemed to be panicked and were going every which way. I carried the rock to where I wanted to stash it, about 50 feet away, and came back to where the rock was. I was gone all of about 30 seconds or perhaps less. By the time I got back, I noticed that there were fewer white eggs than there were just a few seconds ago. I watched and noticed that even though the ants seemed to be going helter-skelter, they really were working to get the eggs underground. Ants were carrying eggs along the trails to the holes. Other ants were coming out of other holes, bypassing the trails and coming “cross country” to the egg nests. They then would pick up an egg and head for the nearest hole, on a trail.
In less than a minute the ants had carried all of the eggs underground. In another minute or so, I saw no ants anywhere…they had all gone underground. I’m sure that if I go back out there after an hour or two, I’ll see at least one new entrance to their underground nest to replace the ones I destroyed by moving the rock then raking that area to get rid of the debris.
I like what the King James Version of the Bible says about the ant. (Proverbs 6:6-11)6”Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: 7Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, 8Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest. 9How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep? 10Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: 11So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.”
‘Nuff said.

Lost

I’m sure that all two of you reading this have lost something in the past and turned things upside down to find whatever it was, only to discover that what you lost was somewhere totally NOT on your radar screen. That happened to me this morning. I lost my car keys.
Normally, I keep all of my things in the pockets of my pants at night. I take them out in the morning after I dress and transfer them to my new garments. I do that, I think, as a habit from my EMS days when I had to lay out clothes at night when I was on call. I wouldn’t have time to put anything in any pockets and had to be ready on a moment’s notice.
In any event, my car keys were not in my old pants pocket to transfer to my clean ones this morning. Immediately unsettled and out of my rut, I began looking for them, trying to remember when I last had them.
You know the drill. I looked high and low. I turned over chairs, looked in waste baskets, got on the floor and looked under things, retraced my steps, checked places several times on the off chance I didn’t see them the first time, and generally turned the place upside down. No luck.
Then for some reason, I thought about one more place…unlikely though it be, they just could be there. I asked my wife to check her handbag. She just turned it over on the bed and out they came along with 83 other things.
How they got in there is anybody’s guess. We both have an idea, but neither of us remember exactly what happened. It’s just one of those mysteries of life, I guess.
On an unrelated note, I heard a radio ad today from a furniture store. They were trying to sell their latest foam mattress. They were extolling the virtues of buying the mattress on time payments and said that, “Now you can sleep for less than two dollars a night!”
This is the first time I can recall where a price tag was put on sleeping. Next thing you know they’ll figure out a way to make a buck on breathing. Actually, some people already do that, selling oxygen to those who have COPD or some other ailment. What a country we live in!!

Score One For Us

Score one for the common man (or woman, that is). Susan Boyle, in case you've been hiding in a cave for the past month or so, is the everyday woman who took the world by storm with a great rendition on the reality show, Britain's Got Talent. If you haven't seen it, go to Youtube and put Susan's name in the search box. You'll find several videos...there's one with over 50 million hits. That's probably as good as any to watch.
Everyone is talking about how plain she looks, but has that great voice. I'm not sure that's entirely all there is to it. There are other factors, such as why she was not “discovered” before now, etc. But looks do count in our culture. And they count far more than they should.
I struggle with this on almost a daily basis. I am constantly running into people in my line of work that I haven't seen before or haven't had dealings with before. Many of them are aged and many are infirm in some physical way. They use a walker, or they struggle to care for themselves, or whatever. Even knowing that I will see and work with many people in this business who are just that way, I still have to correct myself mentally because I tend to rush to a judgment on the basis of what I see.
When I find myself in that position, sometimes I can talk myself out of it. Other times I find that it's helpful to interact with that person in some way. Usually, I find during the interaction that there's quite a gem inside that, although it may need a little polishing, is well worth keeping. I then wonder why I ever thought the way I did about that person.
Susan may not win whatever contest she's in on the TV. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that someone, somewhere will take a look at how he or she tends to judge people and circumstance based merely on what is seen as run through the prism of societal expectations, and decide that there's something inherently wrong with that method of judgment. If even one person changes for the better as a result, Susan will have been successful far beyond what she could ever have hoped.

Hoping for Sunshine

Let’s see. It’s been forever since we’ve seen the sun in any measurable way. Or so it seems. I was counting back and believe we haven’t had a really good, sunny day for over two weeks. Then I thought that couldn’t be right and I was being a complainer and grumbler. So I looked at National Weather Service records for the past two weeks or so to see just what had been happening in the way of sunshine. This is what I’ve found.
From April 25th through May 9th is 15 days. One of those days (the 7th of May) has missing data. So we have 14 days to work with. The weather service calculates the actual minutes of sunshine (defined as the sun casting a shadow), the percentage of actual sunshine minutes to possible sunshine minutes, and the prominence of clouds in the sky (using a scale of 0 to 10 with 10 being the most cloudy).
Over the last 14 days, the average number of minutes of sunshine was 208. The percentage of actual sunshine to possible sunshine was 25%. The average cloudiness number on the 0 to 10 scale was 8.2.
Two days had 0 percentage of sunshine. Two more had percentages in the single digits. Five days had a percentage in the teens and two more were in the twenties and thirties. The last three had percentages of 44%, 84% and 92%.
So it’s true. We’ve had a very cloudy and overcast last couple of weeks here in Wichita. It not only seems that way; it is that way. Only two of the last 14 days had a sunshine percentage over 50%. And the cloudiness scale had only two days with fives and none below five. Nines were the most prominent number with five days meriting that score. Tens were next followed by eights and sevens. There was only one six.
This may be boring to you, but I like to manipulate numbers of all kinds in order to extract information and possibly draw conclusions. This exercise was a pleasant one for me, although the clouds and rainy weather is getting a little, shall we say, old.
I’m very careful, however, to tell you that I am not complaining…I’m just hoping that the skies will clear soon and we can take another look at the sun, sunsets, the stars, moon, and other celestial things. The Creator provides us with what we need and we have no business griping about such things. I don’t think it bad, however, to hope for (and even pray for) change in the weather. I’m not praying for sunshine just yet, but if the clouds continue, I may begin.

I don’t know if everyone does this or not, but I accumulate things in my head that I think about from time to time. Sometimes, it feels kind of good to get them out and on paper, so to speak. I’ve had several blogs where I list random thoughts; here’s another one.
Why do people who otherwise wouldn’t think of littering throw their cigarette butt on the ground when they get out of a car in a parking lot? Can’t they put it out in their ash tray before they step out?
Have you ever seen someone ahead of you in line in a department store pay for a purchase with all three methods of payment (cash, check, and credit card)? I have. I was behind her a couple of days ago. And the cash was forty one-dollar bills.
I wonder why I always seem to pick the cash register lines where the woman (excuse me…person) in front can’t find her credit card, argues about a price, takes five minutes to write a check, has seventy-two coupons to use, or insists on finding thirteen cents in the bottom of her very large purse to give to the check out person (or uses all three methods of payment on one purchase).
Is it really necessary for all three lanes of traffic to be clear before making a right turn onto a street? Isn’t it sufficient for the lane to the far right to be clear?
How can someone drive down a street and never turn their head to look to the right or to the left for traffic, etc?
Are kids smarter today than we were back when? Or is it just that they have more gadgets to work with?
Have you noticed that there really isn’t anything new under the sun, just as the writer of Ecclesiastes says?
Somewhere inside that chicken egg I broke open this morning and fried lies all the information needed to supply a baby chick with the ability to peck his way out of his shell, eat, drink, scratch the dirt, and know what the sounds mean that a mother hen makes. Amazing.
A chicken egg (or any egg for that matter), before it begins to develop, is a single cell.
Why does the price of gasoline spurt up eighteen to twenty cents a gallon overnight, go down two or three cents a two or three times in the next few days, then spurt up another eighteen cents overnight again? Why can’t it spurt down as rapidly as it spurts up?
The price of bread is approaching four dollars for some loaves. Does anyone besides me think that’s a tad high? How much more are people willing to pay?
Was there ever anything better than Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s On First?”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Watf8_Rf58s&feature=related

God and Moses

In the Old Testament book of Exodus, there is an amazing, fascinating, and yet chilling account of an interaction between God and Moses. The setting is when they’ve come to Mount Sinai and Moses had gone on the mountain to meet God. The people left behind got tired of waiting on Moses up on the mountain, and had Aaron make an image of gold to worship.
God tells Moses what is happening in the camp and Moses comes back down to straighten things out. It is during this time that Moses and God have a conversation that I think may be unmatched anywhere else in the Bible. Look at chapters 32 – 34.
When this thing first comes about, God says, “Go down, because your people, whom you brought up out of Egypt, have become corrupt.” The emphasis is mine because I want you to see that God says that the people are no longer His, rather they now belong to Moses and that Moses was the one that brought them out of Egypt. God seems to be washing His hands (so to speak) of the whole affair and giving it over to Moses.
God is so angry with the people that He tells Moses to “Leave Me alone so that my anger may burn against them, and that I may destroy them.” He then tells Moses that He will make a great nation from him.
Before Moses departed from God’s presence on the mountain, he interceded on behalf of the people. He asked God to turn from His anger and forgive them. However, if God chooses to not forgive them, Moses says to “blot me out of the book you have written.” That reminds me of Paul in the New Testament saying he would himself be accursed if it would result in the salvation of the Jews (Romans 9:1-5).
God continues to threaten punishment; then He tells Moses to “Leave this place, you and the people you brought up out of Egypt…” Again, God is telling Moses that these people are his, not God’s. But now God tells Moses that although He will not go with him, He will at least send an angel to drive out the inhabitants of Canaan.
This conversation goes back and forth between Moses and God, with a few side tracks thrown in, for about three chapters. In the end, Moses convinces God to take His people back, go with them into the promised land, and make a covenant with them (since they had broken the last one by worshipping the golden calf). Moses also catches a glimpse of the backside of God and has an experience with God unlike (in my opinion) that of any other human.
God starts out by threatening to destroy the whole lot of Israel and make a great nation out of Moses. He ends up taking the people into the promised land just as Moses asked Him to do.
Can you imagine having such a conversation with God yourself? Can you imagine standing up to God and saying, in essence, “God, I don’t want you to do that. If you do, think of what other people will say about you.” Can you imagine knowing that you and God were on such good terms with each other that you were able to convince God to do or not do something that He originally had said He would do the opposite?
God ends up telling Moses, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.” Is God pleased with you? Does He know you by name? Would you boldly ask God to do something and have the faith that He would hear you and act on your request?

"As Thou Hast Been..."

I was listening today in our daily stand up meeting while another department leader was talking about one of her employees whose mom shot herself in a suicide. She planned it out very well, buying a tarp at Wal Mart to lay on, laying out all of her insurance policies and other important papers, but not leaving any kind of note explaining why. Evidently, there was no indication of trouble in her life and her family is just left wondering why something like this happened.
We were talking a little about the situation and how the family is having to cope. During a lull in the conversation, I said “And we think we have problems.”
I know of some of the health and family issues of those who were around the table, and I’m sure there is much more going on in the lives of these people regarding which I haven’t a clue. We all agreed, though, that our troubles seemed small compared to having to deal with something like this.
As the meeting closed, I recalled a song we sang yesterday in church. (Forgive the King’s English) “Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father; there is no shadow of turning with Thee. Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not; as Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.”
“Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed Thy hand has provided. Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.”
In this existence where we all reside, one thing that never changes is that change and uncertainty are inevitable. One day things can be humming along just fine; literally the next day we find ourselves dealing with a situation that is inundating us with emotion, uncertainty, grief, and anxiety. And there’s no end in sight; no resolution on the horizon. Life suddenly is a struggle of the greatest magnitude.
“As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.” Nothing, not a thing in this world, in this universe is unchanging. When the ultimate disaster hits, we want the ultimate rock. We want something to cling to that isn’t affected by the passing winds of time and civilization. No wonder people in distress often call upon God. Deep inside they know that there’s a constancy there that will give them hope and security in this uncertain world.
“As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.” Whether or not this grieving family is clinging to their Creator right now, I don’t know. But I do know that their Creator sees them and loves and cares for them. And I know that the Eternal Son gave the ultimate gift on their behalf and desires a relationship with them that passes understanding. I also know that these truths are eternal and unchanging, just as the God of heaven and earth is eternal and unchanging.
“As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.” This promise is for all…not just those who have suffered great loss or are in great distress. Each of us, whether things are going well for us or not, needs the grounding and security that an unchanging God provides. Of all of the attributes of God, should I somehow be able to rank them in importance to me, this one is right up there with the first and the best. And the older I get, the more I see the need for the anchor that God provides and the less I try to keep myself anchored on my own.
“As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.”

Commitment

Today in church we honored those couples of our number who had been married at least 50 years. Many were married for 60 or more years, longer than I’ve been alive. The sermon part of the gathering talked about commitment and intentional living. All in all it was a great day with much to be pondered and much to be celebrated.
I don’t know if the broken marriage rate (notice I didn’t say divorce rate…but rather broken marriage rate) is any greater now than it has ever been, but one thing I do know...it takes an almost extraordinary amount of commitment and determination to make one work for as long as these marriages have continued.
Commitment. That’s the key in so much of what we do and who we are. Whether marriage, job, child-rearing, or whatever it is, commitment is absolutely vital to the success of the endeavor. And commitment is sometimes hard to come by and even harder to maintain.
Congratulations to all who have learned the secret of commitment in marriage and in life.

An Attitude of Gratitude

I’m not sure there’s anything much better than watching a couple of wild turkey gobblers strut and display not fifty feet from the back of my house. Playing an old and instinctive game of one-upsmanship and who’s-the-best, these magnificent birds go through a ritual as old as life itself, yet as real as it ever gets. Everything they do, even though I don’t understand it all, is geared for survival and propagation. The best genetics, the biologists say, are passed on down the line. The rest are not. If that’s true, they aren’t going through all of this for my benefit.
We have a wonderful menagerie out or back door. Ducks, squirrels, an occasional coyote, garter snakes, cardinals, deer, robins, turkey, frogs, geese, chickadees, and other critters dot the landscape both behind our fence and in our small fish pond in the back yard. And although I’ve never seen them, I’m sure there are the requisite number of such as skunk, opossum, raccoon, and other “varmints”.
We also have some wildlife of the two-legged variety. There’s a hiking trail just beyond our fence, and we see people of all kinds and stripes taking advantage of it. A few are on horseback or mules, but most walk. The neighbor kids have made sort of a play area out of the park just behind their house, and I enjoy watching them at times.
It’s so easy to take for granted the things we see and do on a daily basis. It’s easy to complain, be down, and growl about all of the rain or the wind, the job, the traffic, or whatever. It’s tougher to have and maintain an attitude of gratitude and thanksgiving throughout the year, even though we may mouth such things during the holiday season in November. Sometimes those of us who have the most grumble the loudest.
I’m reminded of Israel when they left Egypt for the promised land. They had all they needed or could ever want, yet they almost constantly, it seemed, grumbled and complained about how things were going for them. Nothing was ever good enough, even though, according to the account, their needs were provided by God Himself, sometimes in a very direct and miraculous way. I’m amazed that God was a patient with them as He was, and I wonder if He sees Israel and their complaining sometimes when He looks at his people today.
You may not have turkeys and deer out your back door. You may only have an alley and trash containers to look at. But please, just for today, be grateful. Give thanks and celebrate life. Who knows? Maybe it will be contagious.

Thoughts and Ruts

I’ve been somewhat torn today as I sit down to make yet another entry in the blog. This afternoon is very unsettled weather-wise, and I could write about that. I saw a hen wild turkey out back just standing there in the rain…I could write about that. We had a great church service today, spending much of the time talking about serving others and meeting the needs of the community. We have an outreach of food and clothing that we call Simple House. I could write about that.
Our Bible class today was talking about discouragement and how we can combat that in our lives…a sorely needed lesson…I could write about that. I watched the tail end of a PBS program on religion and ethics where they told of a Catholic priest who made it his mission to bring out into the public arena a little-known facet of the holocaust of the Jews in WWII. I could write about that. We’re having our small group over to our place this evening…I could write about that.
However, an oft repeated line seems to pop out in my mind today. Many people have said “I have more years behind me than I have in front of me.” I too am in that boat (unless I live to be 120, which is rather unlikely). I was thinking today about my life as it has been and is, wondering if it has turned out at all like I thought it might many years ago.
Actually, I don’t know whether or not it has turned out the way I planned. I don’t really remember doing a lot of planning in the past. I don’t think I ever got a job with the idea that this would be the job I would retire from at age 66. I don’t think I ever moved into a home with the idea that this would be the place where I would retire. The only long term planning I think I ever did was to say that the woman I married would be my partner for the rest of my days (or her days).
Everything else has been, I think, a step in the adventure of life and a realization that nothing is ever permanent or unchanging. Much as I would like to have continued to hold some job or live in a certain house for the remainder of my days, I think I knew that it probably wasn’t going to happen that way and that I was to be ready for whatever came our way.
Even post-retirement isn’t all that permanent. Things change and life changes. We become more feeble and frail. Friends die. Children and grandchildren grow up. People move. The world changes. Nothing is static.
Although Archie Bunker’s statement that he “like(s) change better when everything stays the same,” is one that we all look upon with some fondness, we also know that it just isn’t that way. Even if we don’t embrace change, we’d do better to at least flow with change and understand that it is part of this existence. Much as we like our ruts, we can’t stay in them forever.
And that’s probably a good thing. (By the way, this is blog #500).

Dads and Kids

Last evening I helped our church serve hot dogs with the trimmings at the public school that we have partnered with for many years. The school had a spring program, outdoors in the parking lot. There were several hundred people there, kids, parents, grandparents, etc. Following the program they came inside and we served the dogs.
I stepped outside while the program was going on. I didn’t pay so much attention to the performances as I did the people in the audience. I sort of walked around the perimeter and just observed for awhile.
I was heartened to see so many dads and father figures at the event. Many came to the program directly from work or at least didn’t have time to change. The school is in a poorer neighborhood, and there were many ethnic groups represented. The dads who were there also interacted quite well, it seemed, with their families and some really got into the program, clapping and pointing (presumably at their child’s performance).
I also observed the children a little. I wondered as I saw the kindergarten and first grades perform what the world would be like when they were old. They have a good chance, some of them, to see well into the last quarter of this century, and some may even see the twenty-second century.
What legacies will we leave to them? Will there be a United States of America? If so, what will it look like? What will the world be like then? How will travel have changed? Will people be living on Mars (or some other celestial body)? What will a dollar buy in 2070? How will morals have changed? How will life have changed?
There’s no way we can answer these questions now. We just don’t know enough to have any kind of understanding of the way things might be even 10 or 20 years down the road, let alone 50 or 70 years.
The kids didn’t seem to care, though, and I doubt that any of them have even thought of these questions. Maybe that’s one of the good things about childhood…the problems of life many times come at just about the time when we can begin to grasp and grapple with them. Now, I know that’s not always true; many kids are thrust into adult or caregiver roles through no fault of their own well before they are ready. Sometimes that works out…sometimes not.
Bravo for the dads that came to the event and enjoyed the evening with their families. I’m glad we could be a small part of that.

First Steps

I was going down the hallway at our church this morning toward the auditorium after getting a cup of coffee in the kitchen. I was following a young mother and her daughter. She had her daughter’s hand and they were walking up the hall. It was obvious that her daughter was just beginning to learn to walk, as she was rather awkward, even though her mom was holding her hand. As they got to the foyer, mom stopped and pointed out someone in the area (I think Grandpa) to the little girl.
As Grandpa knelt down and beckoned, Mom encouraged her daughter to walk toward him without her help. The girl got down on all fours and started over toward him. Mom corrected her by standing her upright. Taking the cue, the toddler walked over. I didn’t think too much about it for just a second, but as the toddler made it about ½ way to Grandpa, Mom started clapping and jumping up and down in obvious delight.
I went on by, but as I went, I heard her exclaim that her girl had just started taking tentative steps this week, and that this was by far the longest distance she had walked. As I walked to my seat in the auditorium, I thought about Mom’s display of joy and the toddler’s learning of a new thing.
There are a lot of lessons here. Yes, I know. I like to find life lessons in the seemingly everyday things that happen. Maybe I stretch a bit. Maybe I should have just enjoyed the moment and not thought about greater truths. But I’m seldom like that. I enjoy innocent and sweet times such as this, and like to work through them.
I think the first thing that came to mind as I thought about what I had seen was the fact that I was in church. I thought of God possibly exhibiting a similar kind of delight as we, his children, take the tentative first steps toward whatever it is that He has in store for us, whatever that may be. We stumble, we are awkward, and we don’t do it very well. But because our efforts show that we are growing into maturity, the Father is delighted with our progress and encourages us to continue.
I also thought of Grandpa. I doubt that the girl would have come to me. She didn’t know me, nor did I know her. We had no relationship. But Grandpa did. His encouragement to her as she stepped toward him, knowing she would receive a welcoming hug and assurance of personhood from someone she knew, made all the difference. Just as God was in Mom, God was also in Grandpa, encouraging, giving assurance, loving, validating. Her going to him was an exercise in immutable trust and childlike faith.
The next time you take the first tentative steps in a direction you believe God would have you go, think of this girl, the Mom, and Grandpa. It may make your journey just a bit easier.