A Privilege

Right now, we are dealing with the somewhat unexpected demise of my father-in-law. He was advanced in age, but was in fairly good health for his age and had no immediately life-threatening medical issues that we knew of. Nevertheless, we found him dead in the garden of his daughter, apparently from a fall, whether caused by some sudden medical condition or not.
I am an in-law in this situation. I’ve been through the drill with my being in the middle of things with my mother and dad. It’s interesting to kind of sit back this time and just watch and absorb. I also know that I can say some things some times and what I have to say will be welcome. The children may or may not take my advice, and that’s as it should be. I’m just glad I can feel like I can offer it.
I’ve been with this family for over 35 years. I know them all pretty well. I’ve not been surprised to any great extent by anything I’ve seen in the past couple of days, and I don’t expect to be greatly surprised by anything I’ll see in the next couple of days. Nevertheless, as a student of people and their behavior, I am intrigued.
The family has grown considerably since I first came into it. There are cousins and such that I’m not sure I would recognize if they appeared at my doorstep. There are other cousins that I’m not sure I could say their names. But it’s the siblings that are on center stage, so to speak. I’m married to one of them.
To those of you who know of our family and our situation, and have expressed sympathy; thank you. To those who don’t, that’s OK. We’ll come through this and will be all the stronger for having passed through this valley. I’m privileged to be part of this family.

Until Next Time

We had dinner with friends from Topeka this evening. They had flown out to Las Vegas, rented a car, and drove to the Pacific coast for a vacation. They spent a night or two in Vegas coming and going. They marveled at how much things cost there and the fact that one cannot do very much there at all without spending money to do it, even to the point of sitting on a lounge chair at the hotel.
I’ve never been there. I don’t intend to go anytime soon. It’s not on my list of things I want to accomplish before I die. If I get to that part of the country, I’d much rather see Hoover Dam and perhaps the Grand Canyon for the second time. Northern California wouldn’t be a bad place to visit, and there are parts of Nevada and Utah that are stark, breathtaking, and drop-dead gorgeous. Vegas isn’t one of those places, in my mind.
There are other places where money greases everything. Cruise ships are one of those places. My heavens, you can’t sling a dead cat (as my brother would say…please don’t send PETA after me) on a cruise ship without hitting an attendant waiting to sell you something. Mostly they want to sell you drinks, but they also sell bingo cards, souvenirs, and other trippy trap stuff.
Branson is lubricated nicely by money. As in many of that type of place, it takes dough to flow.
But there are things one can do that don’t require money, or at least much of it. Sometimes those are good deals, sometimes not. But most of those things are at least worth looking at and perhaps going back to.
I’m glad we spent time with Chris and his family. We were able to re-connect in a good way, and managed to send them on their way with a full tank and filled stomachs. Until next time…

Well Rested

Today hasn’t been a great one. During the night, I felt one of the vertigo episodes that I’ve been plagued with for many years coming on. I managed to get to the bathroom and down some medication that kept it from becoming a full-blown disabling thing.
Now all day today, snowed by medication, I haven’t felt like doing anything. Finally this evening I ate some soup (chicken, dontcha know!!) and feel better. I’m letting the medication go and will see how I do this evening.
What is it about a day like this when one looks around at the things that need to be done, can’t do them, and feels guilty about not getting any of them done? If we had been gone all day visiting friends or relatives, none of this would get done either, but I wouldn’t feel guilty about wasting the day.
Instead, I sit here and see the full trash cans, the laundry, the dishes, and other things and wish I would have felt well enough to have taken care of some of these chores. I wonder if I should get up and get busy, or just be happy that I can sit upright and not have the world spinning around my head.
I’ve always had a problem with just doing nothing, unless I really felt crappy. Laying on a beach all day, sipping some kind of fruity drink doesn’t rank very high on my list of things to do. Instead, I at least like to think I’m somewhat productive, even if the productivity quotient is a little nebulous and the quality of productivity is some lacking.
Tomorrow will be another day. However, tonight will be rather long as I have slept a lot of the day. I should be well-rested.

A Radical Idea

It started years ago. First one or two, then a few here, a group over there. Now it has become a torrent; one that seems about as unstoppable as the water in the proverbial thumb in the dike leak story. Oh, I never said what I was talking about. I don’t know if it even has a name or not, but what happens is that Christians give up on church and religion in favor of living lives of service and devotion to God.
“Wait,” you say. “That can’t be right. You can’t be a Christian and not be religious. You can’t be a Christian and not do church.” There are many, many souls out there who will beg to differ with you, and they may well be correct.
We see it all the time. Fewer and fewer are attending traditional church services in buildings. More and more are calling it quits when it comes to aligning with a denomination. Many have begun small groups of like-minded Christians and meet in someone’s home or other nondescript location. Why? I confess I don’t know the full answer to that. But I suspect that the following may play a part in someone’s decision. What follows is in no particular order of importance; you judge for yourself.
First, denominations and religions tend to be top-heavy with bureaucracy and bloated with money-guzzling offices, buildings, and work. Some believe this is an unnecessary waste of resources.
Second, religion in general is suffering from the pains of humanity. Sexual abuse, theft, extortion, greed, and racism all play significant roles in some religious institutions today. Many people see this as hypocritical.
Third, people are recognizing an inner nudge to make the world a better place in some way. Some religious organizations haven’t a clue (or don’t want to know) how to harness that nudge and provide the help that may be needed.
Fourth, religion is full of officials of some kind or another who discourage innovation, individual initiative, and in general doing things differently than has been done in the past. It’s called obstructionism. The officials might well call it doctrine.
Fifth, the lives of people today are more harried and busy than ever before. We are inundated with data, lists, calendars, and appointments. We long for a simpler, easier time. Sometimes, that is attainable, even if for a short time, by eschewing tradition and ceremony in favor of innovation and informality.
I don’t know if this movement is on target or wildly off tangent. I suspect that, like much of what humanity thinks up, there is good and bad in it. Regardless, it is here and we must not only deal with it, but work with it, interact with it, and learn from it. After all, Christianity itself was a radical idea two thousand years ago.

A Lot to Ponder

We just came back from an afternoon at our church. We hosted an ice cream social for the homeless in our back parking lot, which abuts the east bank of the Arkansas river in downtown Wichita. Several people arrived early, helping carry out tables, chairs, and food and drink. Several of the homeless also showed up early, waiting for us to complete preparations.
We had a couple of guys with guitars who sang various types of songs, mostly country and older soft rock, and a man had a car backed up to the area with a trunk full of new underwear, socks, shoes, and other things needed by folks.
One of the first things I heard was from one man who was eager for the line to form. He said something about the ice cream and all the toppings on the table, then said he thought he had died and gone to heaven. Others expressed appreciation for us and our cooperating community organization for hosting and having them.
We had besides ice cream and toppings, cookies, brownies, and various kinds of drinks, including water and coffee. I know it wasn’t a nourishing meal, as one might get in a soup kitchen, but it was a time when for awhile the folks could meet, visit, and share stories with other homeless, and with the volunteers.
We did this last year, too. That time was my first experience with something like this. I was a little apprehensive last year about it all. This year, it was different. These people were just people like me. The only difference was most of them didn’t have a home to go to tonight.
As I stood at the edge of the group, the unmistakable odor of sweat and bodies wafting my way, I looked at people who appeared to be hardened, chronically homeless as well as those who may well have only been that way for a month or two. I saw the old and young, children and grandfathers, men and women of all shapes and sizes. And the empathy I felt for each of them multiplied in that short time and after as I served coffee and bussed tables.
One man asked if he could play the guitar of one of the performers during a break. He strummed a little, and asked if the amplifier could be turned on. He did a tolerably good job of chording, although his repertoire consisted mainly of harder rock-type sub lines. The bass guitarist worked to stay with him in an informal jam session, and some of the man’s friends were obviously pleased he was performing.
I don’t know how long it had been since he had played, but the experience was well worth the price of admission for me, and I hope he went away from there with a renewed sense, however minimal, of self-worth and dignity.
There but for a few paychecks go I. That’s a lot to ponder.

Good Heritage and Great Promise

“There is nothing in this world quite the same as reminding yourself where your place in life is through a big family reunion where everyone gets along. Experiencing first hand the Christian heritage I've been given provides a place to belong, and an inner sense of peace in a chaotic world.”
A friend of mine said this recently on Facebook. He had just attended a family reunion and was expressing in words what I’m sure many who were there felt. I know much of his family and would concur that his experience was genuine and his comments heartfelt.
As a family, we feel much the same way. We try to get together annually, if possible, and seem to always enjoy each other’s company, catching up on the latest, and seeing the nieces, nephews, and others grow and develop as we siblings age. We cherish the memories of past reunions and know that there are but a limited number of reunions in our future.
I want to expand a bit on the Christian heritage part of his comment. Although families who are not religious or do not share a Christian heritage that stresses love can and do have good families, good reunions, and good relationships, it seems that the fact of that heritage and training makes the likelihood of such relationships more plausible and more frequent. We know that we are a forgiven people and that God has overlooked, so to speak, our shortcomings and has made us His adopted children. As such we tend to forgive the faults of others as we work and interact with them. We overlook, as it were, things that might cause no end of rift in another family.
Christians also believe that there will come a Day unlike no other, when we all as the family of God will be together in a wonderful, loving, and everlasting present tense, experiencing for eternity the same sense of belonging and inner peace (which passes all understanding). A taste of that happens in the here and now in venues like family reunions, gatherings of Christians to worship, fellowship or celebrate, and other ways and means. But those events and feelings, however great, are temporary and soon fade.
Christians look (or should look) toward that day, however, when there will be no temporary, no fading, and no imperfection.

Bully

I was in a business today purchasing a part for work. Ahead of me was an older lady who had an electric trimmer on the counter and was talking to the counter man about replacing the rechargeable battery in the unit, which evidently was bad. The business sold batteries but didn’t have any way to do the installation.
The woman was frustrated because she was unable to open the trimmer and replace it herself. She evidently did not have anyone else to help her with this task, which wouldn’t have taken long, but would have taken some tools.
The man sympathized with her, and told her that if she went to a place that sold batteries, most likely they would also do the installation for her. He suggested a couple of places, but it was obvious that the woman was a little unsure about something. I suspect she was really unsure whether the battery place would really install the new battery for her.
I deal with one such battery place on a rather regular basis for work. I told her that the place I patronized indeed would install the battery for her and would do a good job. We left the business together, and I also told her where the place was that I used to buy my batteries.
As we parted, she said she would go to one of the places and see how things worked out. I’d like to know how they worked out for her. I left there frustrated that some things like that seem to be almost insurmountable obstacles to older folks, especially women, maintaining their independence. It was obvious that this woman was in fairly good apparent health and probably could live on her own for some time yet.
You might think that she should just go into one of those battery places and get the work done. However, some of those places aren’t very woman-friendly, and are somewhat intimidating at times if you’ve never been there before. They generally are very masculine oriented, and the help sometimes is little more than some insolent-looking young man grunting behind the counter as the customer interrupts his lunch, his phone conversation, or his nap. They are also somewhat unkempt and not especially pleasant for those of the feminine persuasion.
On the other hand, we all have had to do things we weren’t very comfortable doing. I suspect this woman screwed up her nerve, went into one of these places, and now has a weed whacker that is charging a new battery in her garage. Bully for her.

That "gutty" Feeling

I was out back tonight as the darkness fell. It has been normal for me to have a kind of "pit in the gut" feeling at various times during the day in the past year or so. I had it again as I sat out back and just thought. Why I get these feelings, I don't know. I suspect, however, that it has something to do with the unknown future, and that a big chunk of that is employment.
To have a job in this economy that pays well is a true blessing. But that blessing can be very fleeting and fickle, and the job can be gone in a matter of days or hours. Along with losing the job comes not only losing insurance and a steady income, but also a certain dignity and identity.
I've been there and done that. So has my spouse. In fact, in the last ten years or so, it seems we have changed jobs every two or three years or so. We certainly have never been the kind who get a job at age 20 and stay with the same job and same company for 45 years until retirement. Our jobs also have never been the kind that have contractural security of any kind.
But back to the gutty feeling. As I thought more about it, I thought about what would dispel the feeling. The only thing I could think of is the unchanging nature of the God that I know. Somehow, that gave me a respite from the uncertainty of the unknown. Somehow, that provided me with a security that could not be found anywhere else.
I am not always able to dispel the gutty feeling just by thinking about God. But most of the time, He provides me with a peace that enables me to take the next breath, take the next step, go to work the next day.
One day, I won't have to have that gutty feeling anymore. I'll have no need to maintain health insurance, money in the bank, or a good credit rating. I'll not have to worry about losing my job, house, dignity, or health. All will be taken care of. All will be well. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Good Lawmaking

I just came in the house from our front yard, watching unending rockets, mortars, and other assorted fireworks bursting above the homes in our division. It made for a great sight, and smoke was rather thick in the air in places. We didn’t have to spend any of our own money on fireworks, because the neighborhood adequately stocked up, it seems, for the big event this evening.
It was a wonderful display of red, green, white, gold, and occasionally blue, punctuated by booms of greater or lesser volume. The neighbors about a half block away, though, worried me some because although I couldn’t see them directly, several loud booms came from their area, but the sounds came from on the ground instead of in the air, as mortars and rockets normally do. The ambulance didn’t come, however, so I presume everything is OK, at least for now.
We also saw what we thought might have been a balloon sailing over the area. It was too dark to know for sure, and I don’t know if balloons can fly at night or not. But, that would be a great perch to observe fireworks from many square miles, and also hear many of the booms made by the fireworks on the ground.
Of course, living in Wichita, virtually all of what we saw was illegal. However, there was so much of it that the city really needs to get with it (as Sedgwick County did) and allow common fireworks. Yes, some will be irresponsible. Yes, some will mix alcohol with fireworks. Yes, there will be some injuries. But when is government going to quit being our nanny? It’s one thing to assure the safety of drugs, food, and automobiles. It’s quite another to ban fireworks because “something might happen”.
Hopefully, the Sedgwick County experiment this year will go well, and the City of Wichita will figure out that an unenforceable law (1) is of no use, (2) breeds disrespect for the law in general, and (3) encourages the populace to find ways around the law. Passing a law doesn’t make anyone safer. Passing a law that the people will obey, by and large, on their own, is the way to responsibility and safety.

The Cross Made a Difference

I was listening to an old Gaither video today. One of the songs was in memory of Rex Nelon, a bass singer who died about 10 years ago. I confess I hadn’t heard the song before. Oh, well, I may have heard it, but if I did, I didn’t pay much attention to the words. I believe, although I’m not sure, that the song was composed by Jay Rouse. Forgive me for not being sure.
The words that strike me the most in this song, and the words that prompted me to look up the lyrics on the web are the last words of the last verse…”For life can’t be sealed in a tomb.” Think about that for a moment, and I think you’ll find more than the obvious in that statement.
If what Jesus said about himself is true (I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life), then it would be only natural and logical for the resurrection to have occurred. Life indeed cannot be sealed in a tomb. And if Jesus is the Life, he could no more be sealed in a tomb than a duck can be kept from water.
Many things can change a person for the better. Philosophy, religion, meditation, and even events and other people can cause good and permanent change. However, the foundation of the change wrought by Jesus Christ is the empty tomb. Nothing can compare; nothing can compete; nothing can equate. The empty tomb stands alone as the defining reality for the human condition and the hope of the creation.

The Cross Made a Difference in Me

'Twas a life filled with aimless desperation
Without hope walked the shell of a man;
Then a hand with a nailprint stretched downward,
Just one touch then a new life began.

Barren walls echoed harshness and anger
Little faces ran in terror to hide;
Now those walls ring with love, warmth and laughter,
Since the giver of life moved inside.

There's a room filled with sad, ashen faces
Without hope death has wrapped them in gloom;
But at the side of a saint there's rejoicing,
For life can't be sealed in a tomb.

Chorus: And the old rugged cross made the difference
In a life bound for heartache and defeat;
I will praise Him forever and ever
For the cross made the difference for me.

Hello Again

Well, it’s been awhile. So much has happened, including a wedding in the family (niece), visit with relatives and friends, a family reunion, and a lost job. Where to start first?
The wedding was great. Nicole and Jason have started their (hopefully) lifelong relationship on a good footing and with the blessing of many friends and relatives. The setting was a bit unusual, an old theater, but the ceremonies came off without an apparent hitch, as did the reception and celebration. They are back from a short trip and are settling in to the routine of married life in this culture.
We had a family reunion during this time, and also visited with other relatives in the Hesston/Newton area one Sunday afternoon. We always enjoy those visits so much, and hope the “relations” enjoy them half as much as we.
The wife lost her job last week. Her position was eliminated, and she was let go “in good standing”. She’s looking for work now, but is also enjoying the time spent at home. And I must admit it’s nice to have someone at home. The pace just seems a bit slower, and the times just a little more deliberate when we’re not running here and there, rushing to be at work on time or getting errands done.
We don’t have an endless supply of cash, but are OK for the moment. In this job market, anything can happen. People say health care is relatively recession-proof, and I think it is. However, there are a lot of caveats in that statement, so we’ll see how this goes.
We have a three day weekend due to the holiday. We don’t have much planned, but will enjoy the time we have together and with each other. You do the same.

I’d like to share with you something I wrote on another’s Facebook page. She asked if we are to forgive others even when they persist in wrong doing. There were many comments on that topic, and a few on related topics. My own belief is that we have no choice in the matter. I believe God has made it quite clear that we are to forgive…not for the benefit of the other person necessarily, but for our own benefit, well-being, and sanity. And we are to forgive even though one "persists in wrong doing," as the questioner said. One only need think of Jesus on the cross asking God to forgive his killers, Stephen in Acts doing the same, or in the present day, the Amish a few years ago as they forgave the killer of their children as they were at Amish school.
This also demonstrates God’s forgiveness of us, even though we persist in wrong doing (As Paul said, “I do those things I do not wish to do, and do not do those things I know I should do. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me…?) even as Christians.
The discussion took a tangent of what is right and what is wrong, and how we deal with that in others. The rest of this blog is my response to that question. I commend it to you as my poor effort to make some sense out of judging, forgiveness, tolerance, right and wrong, and our relationship with God and others.
I am not the final arbiter of what is right and wrong for another. I have no business telling someone else for example, that they cannot divorce...I have to decide for myself what, if anything, the Bible has to say about that and about my specific situation. There isn't much that is clearly black and white in Scripture. That's by God's design. He has set us free from the law and has put His Spirit in our hearts and His word on paper (so to speak) to guide us...not guide others.
One thing is clear. Romans 14 and others (I Corinthians 8 to 11) talk of some things being wrong for some but not wrong for others. There ARE such things in the world, and I don't have a monopoly on the "correct" list of such.
The brother will stand regardless of his stance on the issue because God will make him stand, Paul says. Evidently, God doesn't care one way or the other on many issues as long as we love one another, forgive one another, and don't judge one another, violate our consciences, or cause another to stumble.
That's a pretty tall order. It's a lot easier to have a handy list of "rights and wrongs" we can pull out and use on others instead of loving, forgiving, deferring to, and encouraging. If we want to have a list for ourselves, that's our business. We dare not use our lists on others. That is, in my view, presumptuous to say the least and putting ourselves in God's place (as Judge) at worst.

Potpourri

Well, it's Saturday. Hotter than the blazes has it been the past few days, with no relief in sight. And that's actually a good thing around here because the wheat farmers have had enough of the rain. It's a muddy mess out there in the fields, but that process (harvest) needs to happen, and soon.
The wife has been away for a few days. She's attending a national nurses' association meeting in D.C. this week. She'll be back in Wichita tonight, probably rather tired and ready to be home. I'm ready for her to be here too, as it's just not the same when someone you've lived with for all these years isn't here.
I have several things to do today to make ready for the coming week. There is a wedding in our family a week from today, and we're having house guests and will be continuing to be together after the nuptial festivities. So I have some house cleaning to do today, yard work, going to the store...well, I think you know the drill.
Yes, I clean house. Yes. I go to the store. Yes, I even clean toilets and mop the floor. I don't necessarily relish those jobs, but don't mind doing them. Besides, what else am I going to do today? Golf? Nah. Lake? Why? Besides, many of those kinds of things take money; I have better things to do with mine than give it to some of those kinds of things.
Of course, there are always some exceptions to that. The IMAX in Hutchinson has a movie on now about the Hubble telescope I'd like to see. And I did go out with family last evening to TGI Fridays for dinner. Now, that was an experience made great by the waiter who served us. Personable, funny, competent, and helpful, he made an otherwise routine dining experience one we will remember for awhile.
I need to get on with life today. Move the wash along. Make the bed in the spare room. Clean up the kitchen. Etc Etc. Until next time...

Trivia

The fin whale can live to age 94, swim up to 25 miles an hour, weigh as much as 150,000 pounds, and its tail can develop 200 horsepower of energy. They eat up to 2 tons of food a day. Newborns are 21 feet long and weigh about 2 tons. Just sayin...

Not Too Early

“I am so tired!” That’s a statement I hear more than I care to hear…not from staff at work…not from my wife…not from myself. I heard it again just today. A daughter of a resident in our nursing home (where I work) was talking with our social worker today, in obvious distress. Her father had been in our care for some time, and is probably in his last days and weeks of life. The family has been very supportive of their loved one, and his care needs, while physically are being met by us, are still great upon this family. The stress that is placed upon this daughter is evident.
I feel greatly for families in this situation. Even though their loved one is being cared for as best we can, there is still great stress and strain upon the family and upon the relationships in that family. People age many years in just a relatively few months. The best (and worst) in familial relationships many times comes out into the open, sometimes for the first time.
Yes, sometimes families bring on added stress by virtue of choices, present and past, that may not have been the best (or just plain bad). But many times there is just the strain of caring for a loved one in the last stages of life, attending to their needs and trying to be strong while they hold things together, juggle responsibilities, maintain their own families, and make decisions. Sometimes families work together in these situations; sometimes one family member has it all thrust upon him or her.
I have to wonder sometimes just how productive it is to lengthen life, given that it often comes with diminished quality and frequently ages the caregivers in the family unit far beyond the chronological calendars. I don’t advocate euthanasia at all, but believe there must be some way to make informed, moral, intelligent decisions regarding medical care.
Families also need to be proactive and develop good relationships, plan ahead, and be ready for the time when mom and dad, or older brother, or whoever, may be in such condition as to require care in a facility or some such. To not do so is to be in denial of the inevitable, and is not a loving response to family and friends.
We all have trials. We all have crosses to bear. To do so with grace, dignity, and appropriate action is a worthy goal which requires some thought and planning. Now is not too early.

Monday All Over Again

You know, it’s kind of funny that I gripe and complain when there is a lot planned on a weekend…going here or there, fixing this or that, attending some meeting or going on a trip somewhere. I long for days when there’s nothing much planned and the time is open. Today is one of those days, and although there are things I can (and will) do, such as starting some laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, etc., there’s no place that I have to be at a certain time and no one that I have to meet at a certain place.
So I putter around with a cup of joe in hand and the newspaper beside me, watching a Saturday morning news show on the tube. I then wonder what I’m going to do with the next several hours.
Oh, I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m just not used to the unstructuredness of it all. I’m more tuned in with having to constantly prioritize my responsibilities (at work) and adjust what I’m doing, sometimes minute by minute, against those priorities. When that doesn’t happen, I feel just a bit lost as I sort-of wander through time.
The feeling is good, though. My brain can relax and recharge, and the rest of me can just sort of go with the flow. Soon enough, it will be Monday all over again.

Know What is Important

It won’t be but about four more days and we’ll be saying, “Where has the summer gone?” I know, I know, we’ve just started, but it seems like we hurtle from one thing on our calendars to the next, stopping only briefly for food and rest. The summer is as packed as the rest of our year, with this trip, that wedding, another vacation, and we must take time to enjoy our time off.
If I seem a little cynical, I am. I can’t change what is, but I do so long for the days of summer that seemed endless…a whole three months of time to fill with whatever came into a boy’s head. Yes, there was work, and lots of it. We moved irrigation pipe and ran cattle on the farm, besides the tractor-driving and the other things that would crop up from time to time. Dad would sometimes have me work with him on his second job in plumbing and electrical service. And there were always green beans to pick, eggs to gather, corn to hoe, yard to mow, or potatoes to dig. If that wasn’t enough, there were dishes to wash, laundry to hang on the line, a floor to sweep and mop, or a room to pick up. We never lacked for anything to do.
Yet, it seemed that the days would last forever, and September and school were far, far away. Now, though, they are just around the corner, and can Thanksgiving be far behind? Then comes the Christmas “stuff” and the new year is fast upon us…another year older, but hopefully not deeper in debt, to borrow a phrase.
Thankfully, I’m not sitting home looking at the help wanted ads and posting a resume on some web site that will never see the virtual light of day. If I was doing that, the days truly would drag on and on…I want no part of that. I have a job to go to, and am grateful for what it provides. Sometimes in the middle of the turmoil, I have to stop and remember to thank God for it, else I lose sight of what is important and what is not. And, no, I don’t mean that the job is all important. I mean that my relationship with the God that provides all, and my relationship with other people are what are truly important.
So, as you too progress through these summer days along with all the rest of us, remember what really is important, and what is just on the periphery.
I asked an older gentleman who was having difficulty getting into the home this afternoon (he was a visitor, not a resident) how he was doing. I asked because he paused for some breaths before going into the home. It had been a short walk from his vehicle and there were no steps. Obviously, he had some kind of medical issue that caused his shortness of breath. I was asking him to give him an opening to ask for help. He said instead, “I am blessed.” Not expecting that answer, I asked him if he needed help. He instead volunteered to help me finish my job (the reason I was out there in the first place). I said I was fine, but did hold the door open for him as he went in.
That man knew what was important.

It's Worth It

This weekend will be anything but the kind that older people love to have…nothing to do. It seems like those times for all of us are getting fewer and farther between as we continue to hurtle down the space-time continuum.
Yesterday evening we (13 family from Wichita area) went to our hometown and to the cemetery where family is buried. We then went into town and had dinner at the local diner.
Today, we will attend a Vincent reunion in central Kansas, and will take our two oldest grandchildren with us. Their parents will not be going, so we will be responsible for them. Of course, the reunion also involves food preparation, which is going on right now, and the grandkids mean farkling with car seats and other assorted things that the under-5 set needs on such an outing.
Tomorrow, I have responsibilities at church and probably should stop by work in the afternoon to check on things, since we are a housekeeper short this weekend. The fact that it’s a holiday means increased visitors, so I probably need to stop by to make sure places like the public restrooms are at least presentable.
Monday we will go to my brother’s place here in Sedgwick County, which means more food preparation. That afternoon we plan to attend the Botannica activities.
Our older son and spouse will be coming today as well, and will be staying with us.
Am I complaining? No, of course not. These times are the ones we remember and cherish. They provide continuing connection, fellowship, catching up (even with Facebook and whatever else, visiting face to face can’t be beat), and joy. But as I age, they also become just a tad more difficult to manage and carry out.
One day we will look back at these times with joy and satisfaction, knowing the beauty and wholeness of life and love. It’s worth the “tad bit more difficult”.

Some Days

Some days, you just don't feel like writing...you know?

Ready for Whatever

In many ways, today was nothing special. We had church today like we always do and came home for Sunday dinner. Nap in the afternoon and a quiet time on the lower level of the house. But in other ways, it was special.
First, we honored the graduates who are in our church. We spent most of the time honoring the high school grads. Parents, friends, or sometimes the youth minister would spend about ten minutes or so talking about the student, his accomplishments and life. It was enjoyable listening to the accomplishments of these young men and women and their aspirations for the future.
I had to think back as the service continued, what would have been said about me in a similar situation when I graduated. I couldn’t really think of anything much, and also don’t know who would have spoken for me. My parents weren’t public speakers in any sense of the word. And I am notorious for being self-deprecating.
Lunch was pleasant and good. We had slow-roasted sirloin, fresh fruit, spuds, gravy, etc. It doesn’t take long to put things away, with only two of us here. We had a lot of the afternoon to get ready for company in the evening.
We had invited our small group to come over this evening for burgers. There were nine of us who enjoyed burgers, marshmallows roasted over the fire pit, baked beans, ice cream, chips, etc. The conversation was great and the weather cooperated allowing us to stay outside on the back patio most all of the time.
Now we’re watching some TV and getting ready for the work week to come. What that week holds in store for us is anyone’s guess. But the weekend has been an excellent time of rest, recreation, and a rebuilding of sorts. We’ll be ready, whatever comes.

New Happenings

Many days are like many other days. Some days we feel like we’re slogging through life, doing the same things day after day. Other days provide a welcome respite to the slogging feeling, with things that happen which are unique or unusual. Such was today.
I saw, for the first time (at least that I know of), an eastern bluebird. This bird is the one that people think of when they think of bluebirds, although there are one or two other varieties in this part of the country. There are not many of them, and they have been elusive to me over the years. But today, the bird feeder on the patio attracted at least one and maybe two of them to feed and pose for a picture or two. They truly are as handsome as they have been made out to be.
The second happened as I stood out on the patio. I was about three feet away from the bird feeder and even closer to the hummingbird feeder. I heard a buzzing noise overhead and to my back. Thinking it was an unusual aircraft, I turned my head to see a hummingbird (ruby-throated) come around and go to the hummingbird feeder, not two feet away from my right hand. He fed from the artificial flower as I watched, and I also saw his little tongue as it darted in and out from the end of his pointed bill. He didn’t seem to be afraid of me, and the red patch on his throat shimmered and changed in the sunlight as he moved. What a sight!
This may not seem like much to some of you, but I truly enjoyed these two encounters. Watching birds is something I enjoy doing, and I am glad that we are attracting such a variety. When we first moved here, I didn’t see many birds and thought there might not be much chance for watching. However, this year we’ve seen cardinals, doves, robins, the tufted titmouse, juncos, downy woodpeckers, various sparrow varieties, blue jays, the bluebird, and even a brown-headed cowbird. What a variety, and what a promise of even more bird watching to come.

An Unusual Encounter

I went in to a resident’s room today to help work on a walker. As I was leaving the room, I noticed a calendar on a bulletin board by the door with what at first glance looked like the old fashioned “pin-up” girl picture above the calendar part. I quickly turned away, hopefully not obviously, and said something mundane about glad I could help, or whatever.
Immediately, the man asked me back inside and took the calendar off the wall. It was indeed a pin-up-type calendar (Playboy brand) and the elderly man, who lives there with his wife in that room, told me that was their granddaughter. Evidently, this young woman was playmate of whatever month on the calendar (I didn’t look much at the calendar part of the calendar. And yes, the pertinent body parts were covered).
I was rather at a loss for words, but managed to have a conversation about—yes, even this topic, and then left the room. The young woman is now living in this area, tending bar at some establishment run by her boyfriend and owned by the same person who has several well-known franchise restaurants in town. The man even showed me an article clipped from a newspaper about the bar when it opened.
I’m not sure whether to be aghast (my sister’s favorite word) or impressed. Aghast because of the openness of the grandparents in what the granddaughter was and had been doing with her life, or impressed that the elderly grandparents were obviously inclusive, open, and loving of even this granddaughter, who many in my circle of relatives and friends would say was a definite black sheep. Whether these grandparents think that or not, I do not know and don’t intend to ask.
I visited with the nurse a little about it, telling her of my encounter and we both remarked that we didn’t quite know what to do with that conversation…she had been shown the same calendar a few days prior.
There’s nothing “against the rules” for such a display in a long term care home room. The room is the resident’s domain, and they have the right to have, within reason, whatever they want in there…even porn. We have one person who has porn videos in the room, and we have only asked that they be turned off when a staff member comes in to the room.
This interaction made for an interesting sidelight this afternoon, and I obviously am still thinking some about it…hence the writing. I’m not trying to make a point, I don’t think, other than to say that life throws curves at us at times. We are forced out of our comfort areas probably more often than we’d like to admit, and how we react says a lot about who we are and what we think.
Self-righteous indignation probably wouldn’t have been the appropriate reaction. I have skeletons enough in my own closet that would have precluded me from being Pharisaical. And in a way, I’m glad for the experience. It takes all kinds in this world, and whether I agree with them or not, I live with them on this planet and interact with some of them. I really need some idea what these people are like, instead of lecturing them at a distance from the safety of my hole in the wall of self-righteousness.

What Do You Think?

I was holding my third grandchild this evening at the hospital. Julia Rose Plank was born earlier today and looks, well, like all babies look when they’re first born. No wonder they have to put ID tags on them…you couldn’t tell them apart for love nor money in my books.
In any event, as I was holding her, she was working trying to burp up some gas. In the process, she spit up a little and worked with that as I cleaned. That doesn’t sound like much to write about, except that she knew somehow what to do to keep herself from inhaling what she spit up, and she also knew, somehow, that what was spit up was to come out rather than go back down.
I am amazed. These things are reflex actions, and are a part of the autonomic nervous system. They are “built in”, so to speak, and most everyone has a bunch of those from the time of birth. They govern everything from breathing to digestion to sweating and blood pressure.
Doesn’t matter. I am still amazed. The strict evolutionist will tell us that these reflexes were “selected” over a long period of time through trial and error. Those that had these lifesaving reflexes and used them lived…the others did not. Other reflexes that may have come about that were not of a life-saving or preserving function may well have been lost to no great detriment.
I don’t buy that. It just isn’t reasonable to think that over the millennia, a few individuals gradually developed these reflexes and populated the species as we have it today. Just who were the parents of these individuals? Those who did not have these reflexes? How did they manage to live to reproduce? And if they did live to reproduce, why did they need to develop the reflexes?
I don’t know all the answers, but I do know that there’s something wrong with that picture. Of course, people will say it isn’t that simple, but in essence, it is. And it’s either that explanation, I guess, or the explanation that there was an Intelligence that designed and planned all of this, then put it into practice.
What do you think?

Some of Both

I was going about my business this morning when I discovered that I was unknowingly humming a tune. I don't do that very often, but was today. I hummed it consciously for a couple of seconds and determined that it was the song “500 Miles” by Peter, Paul, and Mary.
I normally don't get songs stuck in my brain, but this one seemed to be lodged there rather firmly. I sat down, Googled the song, and played it on YouTube as performed in the early 1960's by the group. How quickly the years receded and I was again at home listening to my transistor radio tuned to KLEO (1480 in Wichita). A flood of songs came gushing through my consciousness as I recalled hit after hit performed by them in the decade of the British invasion, social upheaval, culture change, flower power, LSD, The Pill, and the War.
And as I listened to that haunting music as sung by Mary, I shed a tear...not for her passing from this life, but for the passing of an era. IPods, instant messaging, Droids, and Google can't hold a candle to that time and their music. Some things are timeless. Some are almost divine. Peter, Paul, and Mary may well be some of both.

Such a Place

This evening, after the meal at the church and before classes started, I went to the river bank and sat on a stone watching the river and the people passing by on the walking paths. For those who may not know, our church’s back lot backs up to the Arkansas River in downtown Wichita.
Before I even got there, I caught the whiff of nature in the delicate scent of spirea that had been planted along the river bank. I sat on a rock next to some bushes to take full advantage of that smell. They are a little later this year, and are just now opening. As I continued to sit for a couple of minutes, with the inevitable cup of coffee in hand, I noticed a robin singing in a tree, a couple of walkers greeting me, and the slow progression of water to the south as the river flowed toward the Gulf. The temperature was about 70 degrees, the wind was but a gentle breeze, and the sun was in just the right place to allow a tree to shade my eyes, yet feel its warmth.
It was one of those times that one could have wished could have lasted for a long, long time. I did manage to sit there for about 20 minutes as I drank my joe and soaked up the relative peace and quiet. Families passed by, some with toddlers; others with older kids. Couples walked by, and some folks were on a bicycle or were running on the path.
I wondered about the lives of a few of them…especially the kids. I also thought a bit about the class to come inside in a few minutes, and about the rest of my week. And I marveled that I was privileged to be in such a place at such a time as this.

"Give Me This Hill Country"

We heard a great sermon yesterday at RiverWalk. Now, I know that “great” and “sermon” don't often go into the same sentence, but we were reminded of something yesterday that I sorely needed to be reminded of (I know I'm ending this sentence in a preposition, but don't want to re-arrange it). The lesson isn't new. It's been taught many countless times. But the application can be entirely new depending on who hears it and what that person's need may be.
The lesson was taken from the Old Testament book of Joshua, in the part which told of Caleb's request to Joshua to give him the part of the promised land where the Anakim (the giant people) lived. At age 85, according to the account, Caleb said he was still as vigorous now as he was 45 years ago, and could, with God's help, conquer the land.
The pertinent quote for me was when Caleb said to Joshua, “Now, give me this hill country...” At age 85, after wandering in the wilderness for 40 years, burying his peers, Caleb could have been satisfied to have just coasted into the promised land and occupied a place which had already been subdued by Joshua and his army. But no, Caleb was ready for more. Caleb was ready to not only claim the promise of God as given through Moses, but Caleb was nowhere close to retirement...nowhere close to giving up and coasting through the remainder of life. He was ready to do battle with the very people who instilled fear and trembling into Israel some 40 years before.
I don't have, as far as I know, a promise from God that He's going to give me any land that I'll have to conquer. I do, however have many other promises of God that are every bit as important as any promised land I might have been given. I also have a tendency to want to just coast through these next several years and just “get by”.
“If I can just make it to Social Security. If I can just make it to Medicare. If I can just get to the point where I don't have to punch an 8 to 5 clock every day.” If, if, if. This is no way to live, and is no way for a Christian to show others the abundant life promised by the Messiah Himself. What kind of an example am I setting for myself and for others?
“I remained loyal to the Lord my God.”
“The Lord has preserved my life just as He promised.”
“Give me this hill country.”
“I'm just as strong and vigorous now as I was years ago.”
“I can go about my daily activities with the same energy now as I had then.”
“Assuming the Lord is with me, I will conquer...”

AMEN

Wondering Again

More things I've wondered about recently.

Why does it seem that people are increasingly rude on the telephone?

And while we're speaking of telephones (an endangered instrument to be sure), why do people call where I work and say, "Someone called me from this number," and want to be connected to whoever it was that called. First, we have one hundred telephones attached to our work number; many are resident phones, and some are staff phones. Second, I'm not a mind reader. How would I know who called this person, especially when the person doesn't tell me who he/she is, or what his/her connection might be with my employer.

What ever happend to "two-toned" vehicles? Used to be that was the cat's meow (if I could use an ancient term of endearment). Now, unless a vehicle has been in a wreck, or is over 30 years old, it's all one color.

How many people under the age of 40 know how to can vegetables and fruit? Make jelly? Plant a garden? Should they know? I don't know how to churn butter...do I need to know? Can I even get the raw ingredients I would need to churn it?

At work this week, I got my March budget of expenses versus budget numbers two days ago. What good does that do me now?

Why do some families feel the need to be overly-assertive when their loved one comes to our nursing home? That just gets everyone off on the wrong foot.

I wonder when I'll get my first I-Pod-type device. I don't think anytime real soon.

How can one person possibly deal with 4,000 texts a month? Don't they have a life?

The "hurry and wait" syndrome is alive and well in Wichita. Hurry to the next light and wait for it to turn.

The herd mentality is also alive and well. Hurry to the next light in a herd and all wait for it to turn so it (the herd) can hurry to yet the next one.

Is Half & Half really 50% cream? I don't think so. And how can there be "fat-free" half and half?

Why do I wonder about things such as this? Don't I have anything better to do?

The Bluebird of Happiness (or not)

I’m listening to one of the old Lawrence Welk shows on PBS right now (yeah, I know, but I like the music and remember watching these things years ago at home). One of the songs sung by Joe Feeney (who passed away a couple of years ago) just now mentioned the “bluebird of happiness”.
OK, what is that? Just what is the bluebird of happiness? Has anyone seen one? Does anyone have one? Where do you find such a critter? And what does he (she-it) do for you once you’ve found him (her-it)?
According to the fountain of all information (the Internet), you can purchase bluebirds of happiness made of glass, ceramic, or other materials. The web also talks of the mythology of the bluebird of happiness going back into ancient cultures. The bluebird, it seems, has long been a symbol of happiness, peace, and warmth. More than one song has been written about such a bird. And there are even videos on YouTube.
I’m reminded of the song by Little Jimmy Dickens that goes, “May the bird of paradise fly up your nose,” in the chorus. I have to wonder if the bluebird of happiness and the bird of paradise are one and the same. Maybe the two birds are related in some way. Maybe one is the evil twin of the other, since one bestows happiness and the other clogs up your nostrils.
Where indeed does happiness come from? How is it generated? Where is it stored? What brings it out into the open in a person’s life? What good is it? How can a person use it to his or her betterment? How is it measured? What does it look like?
You may think the answers to these questions are obvious “duh” answers, but think again. When was the last time you heard of someone who took his own life described as someone who was happy or was always smiling, or always a friend, etc? How often do we equate laughter with happiness? You and I both know those aren’t the same thing.
What about contentment? Does it have anything to do with happiness? And what about a person’s world-view? Does believing in God, for example, generally make one happier than one who does not hold such a belief? Can one be a God-believer (I’ll just say a Christian), and not be happy? Why or why not?
This happiness thing…it’s a real conundrum for me. Could it be that I’m not happy? Am I supposed to be happy? Do I deserve happiness? Why or why not?
Can someone explain this to me?

No Slump

I’m old enough to remember watching Yogi Berra, the legendary New York Yankees catcher (and later a manager and/or coach for the Yankees, the Mets, and the Astros) on television. He would be on the “Game of the Week”, with commentators Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese (themselves legends in baseball and a hoot to listen to as they commented on the game).
Yogi had an extraordinary career, and is widely regarded as the best catcher to ever play the game. One of his attributes, however, had nothing to do with baseball. He had a great knack for creating memorable quotes which, unless one thinks about what is really said, seem to make sense.
I ran across a web page with quotes attributed to Mr. Berra. Herewith are some of the ones I like best.

“I wish I had an answer to that because I’m tired of answering that question.”
“I didn’t really say everything I said.” (This quote is regularly expropriated by politicians of various stripes; however, they say it in words that aren’t quite as obvious as this.)
“You should always go to other people’s funerals; otherwise, they won’t come to yours.”
“I made a wrong mistake.” (If politicians would only use this once in awhile…)
“Nobody goes there anymore; it’s too crowded.”
“You can observe a lot just by watchin’”.
“You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six.”
“I couldn’t tell if the streaker was a man or a woman because it had a bag on it’s head.”
“This is like déjà vu all over again.”
“Slump? I ain’t in no slump. I just ain’t hitting.”

I’m sure you can look his quotes up on your own, and there are some you may enjoy better than mine. There are, however, some gems of wisdom in the mis-mesh of words he uses.
You can indeed observe a lot by watching. Sometimes it’s better to shut one’s mouth and look around and listen to what’s going on. Someone once said, “You can’t learn anything while you’re talking.” Some folks I know are first class examples of that.
The slump quote is also a gem. Refusing to carry oneself to the depths of despair by beating oneself up with words is a great attribute to have. No slump…I’m just not hitting right now.
Déjà vu.

The Masters

I’m watching the Masters tournament today. I’m not much of a golfer, and golf on TV is not my idea of the most entertaining thing to do. However, we recently purchased an HDTV, and of course Tiger. Woods is playing his first tournament since coming back. It’s been somewhat interesting.
First, in high definition, one can have a much greater appreciation for the environment of a golf course. You can see blades of grass, veins in leaves, sticks on the ground, and stubble on chins. Oh, wait. Stubble isn’t really environmental, is it. In any event, the clarity of the picture is rather amazing and an enjoyment to see.
Second, I wish Mr. Woods well. I am not a fan of crude jokes or other sanctimonious drivel aimed at him or anyone else. We all are abject failures in life. Some of us have our failures displayed for all the world to see; a lot of us manage to keep them relatively quiet and out of the news. It doesn’t matter to me that he does not profess Christianity, or that he may or may not be sincere in his “recovery”. Nor does it matter to me if he wins (which at this point seems unlikely), or if he just places well. I wish him to do well.
Third, to keep all of this in perspective, at least for me, the microphones regularly pick up the sounds of birds nearby in the trees, calling out their songs. That may not mean much to you, and you may think this a stretch, but that tells me that regardless of what is going on at that place from a human perspective, there is another world there; one that has been there for eons past, and one that will remain (assuming the creation itself remains) for years to come. Human accomplishments, while noteworthy, cannot hold a candle to the inexorable march of time and the work of the Creator in upholding His handiwork day after day, year after year, eon after eon.

At Peace

As I slow down this evening, ever mindful of the inexorable march of time toward Monday, I am in a rather contemplative mood right now. I just came in from sitting on the back porch, listening to the birds, watching folks walk the path in the park behind the house, and absorbing the cool breeze.
We went to sunrise services this morning. Our church is on the banks of the Arkansas River downtown, and we had services down on the bank, along with some ducks, runners and walkers, traffic, some homeless under the 1st Street bridge, geese, and a train or two. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a sunrise service quite like that…not the service itself, but the extras that were part of the environment. Prior sunrise services since we’ve been here have been held inside due to bad weather, so this is the first time in several years we’ve been able to be out.
We then dismissed for a continental breakfast, which was actually very complete, and the regular services inside, sans Sunday School classes. I always go away from that place refreshed and happy that I’m part of that family. Yes, I know we as Christians are to do our work outside the walls of the church building. But it’s necessary also to meet together to refresh and renew after a week spent outside those building walls, living, loving, and longing.
We had lunch with both of our sons and the grandkids; then grandma went with her sis and the others to help our younger pack, as they’re moving in a few weeks to a new home they’ve purchased. Since my daughter in-law is 8 months pregnant, it’s going to be difficult for her, so we’re helping more than we might otherwise.
I stayed here and prepared for a birthday shindig tomorrow evening for my niece. There promises to be quite a few here, and I cut the grass, cleaned up, threw away trash, and generally got things ready. It should be fun tomorrow.
Now, it seems that the evening should last forever. It’s so nice out, I’m at peace, and all is right, it seems, with the world. I know that isn’t really true. All I have to do is look at the news or think about going to work at the home. But for now, I’ll enjoy the minutes we have left in this evening and long for a time when this kind of peace is not fleeting, but forever.

Kid Experiences

The wife and I were talking a day or so ago. We were listening to NPR talk about a retirement community where children could not live, and could only visit for three weeks or less. She mentioned that she enjoyed having children around our neighborhood. I do as well. Although our immediate neighbors are retired, there are kids a couple of doors down, and teens across the street. There are children on down the block and in several homes between ours and where we turn on to Maize Road.
I enjoy seeing them, and I especially enjoy the ones just down the street. Their home, like ours, backs up to a park and the kids there have taken over a small part of the area right behind their yard. There’s an old tree back there that’s easy to climb, and it’s a perfect place for kids to spend time in the summer or on a Saturday.
I was beginning to wonder if kids did that kind of thing anymore. But these do, and they have friends over and they all enjoy themselves there, or in their backyard pool, or maybe out front at the basketball goal by the side of the drive.
I recall years ago (you knew this was coming, didn’t you) when I thought summers would never end and we had more things to do and places to explore in our neighborhood than we would ever, ever get to. There was always the railroad spur line that ran to a grain elevator next to our small patch of ground (a couple of acres). Or there was a huge pile of trees that had been felled in a neighboring lot that we could climb all over, at least until the owner burned them. When that happened, they had a wiener roast and the neighborhood showed up with hot dogs, marshmallows, and salads and had a good time.
One neighbor had a plot of sweet corn where we would hide and play in after the corn had been picked. Then there was always the drainage ditch a half block away which pretty much always had water in it, or at least puddles of water. Many times there would be crawfish, tadpoles, and other such life in the puddles.
We had an old barn on our property that was good for several hours of exploring and play. It had a loft in it where dad had stored lumber from an old house he tore down on that same lot. And before he tore down that house, it was a good place to explore, along with the yard surrounding it.
And, of course, when all else failed, we could trek across the highway to the far east part of town. There were several lots there on the edge of town that were overgrown and perfect for exploration, and several friends lived in that area. Besides, the town’s sewage treatment plant was nearby (yes, I know that sounds gross, but to a group of boys…) and places we’d not seen in a long time were right nearby, including the highway overpass over the railroad, Sand Creek, and other attractions.
When I was older, I enjoyed working in dad’s shop. He built a workbench for me, which I still have and use by the way, and I spent hours taking things apart, trying to fix things, and building things. I worked a couple of summers in that shop repairing lawn mowers for paying customers, having my own business. That, combined with helping out on the farm (we lived in town, but dad was a farmer/stockman) and helping him with his other job working plumbing and heating pretty much kept me busy during my teen years. I didn’t have any time to get into trouble.
I hope the kids down the street retain fond memories of their years here and are able to tell their kids and grandkids about the times they spent climbing trees, exploring the park, and shooting baskets. About having friends over, swimming in the pool, and playing games until all hours of the night. And I’m sad for any kid that doesn’t have the opportunity to have those kinds of experiences.

Could Someone Just Answer a Question?

There has been much made of the latest health insurance reform package, both pro and con. One of the biggest arguments against the package is that we need to keep government out of health care. I know that the reform package is related to health insurance, and it’s not quite the same as health care. I also know that there won’t be a nickel’s worth of difference between the two when it comes to government having its finger in health care/insurance.
The fact is that government is already pervasive in health care/insurance. But don’t take my word for it. Tom Scully, CMS (Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the agency that administers the Medicare program) Administrator in the Bush era from 2001 to 2003, said in a news clip regarding the role of CMS in health care/insurance, “You (CMS) get into every little nook and cranny of every part of the health care field.” This is from a man who was there well before any reform was passed by this congress.
Think about that amazing statement. “Every nook and cranny of every part” of the health care field (which includes health insurance, by the way). The government, friend, is already there and has been there for decades. Both parties are responsible. Neither will own up to it.
Let me tell you a true story. I know of a nursing home that had an annual fire inspection not long ago. It used to be that, since the State of Kansas was conducting the inspection, state regulations were used as the standard. Not so now. The inspector was working for the State of Kansas (Fire Marshal’s office), but was conducting an inspection according to CMS standards. CMS contracts with state agencies to conduct these kinds of inspections at facilities that participate in Medicare or Medicaid.
The inspector cited a deficiency in a linen storage closet, saying that fire sprinklers needed to be installed in the closet. This closet was built into the wall and was about three feet wide and sixteen inches deep. It had doors on the front and shelves in the closet to hold linens.
The building is relatively new (two years old). It has passed multiple fire inspections on both the local (Wichita Fire Department) and State (Fire Marshal) levels. The architect (well-versed in regulations of this kind) didn’t spec sprinklers in the closet when he drew the plans. The sprinkler sub-contractor, who is also well-versed in sprinkler regulations, didn’t see the need for sprinklers in the closet. An independent fire safety engineer reviewed the area and said in a formal opinion that the NFPA (National Fire Protection Association) Code, the gold standard for fire safety, specifically stated that sprinklers were not necessary.
CMS, however, wouldn’t budge. Regardless of the opinions of multiple professionals, and the explicit statement of the gold standard of fire safety, it threatened to withhold all payments to the facility until the problem was corrected. The State of Kansas threatened to not issue a license to operate the facility. The facility was faced with the real possibility (these guys don’t fool around with you) of having to transfer over 60 residents to other facilities and close its doors if it didn’t comply.
The facility reached an agreement with CMS that was satisfactory to CMS by cutting a 4 inch by 12 inch opening at the top of each of the closet doors. Think about that for a minute, then mumble under your breath in hapless wonder.
Let’s see. CMS is already into health care so deeply that it can mandate that a facility cut a 4 inch by 12 inch hole in a closet door, under penalty of non-payment of about $20,000 a day due from Medicare for treatment of Medicare residents. And you have the nerve to tell me that government is not into health care, and that the new reform package will ruin all of that and put government into the equation?
Oh, you say that government may be into health care, but the new package will make things worse. How can it be any worse than the federal government using the power of the State of Kansas (to withhold a license to operate a facility) and the power of the federal purse to mandate a hole in a closet door that doesn't, by all professional accounts, have to be there?
Would someone honestly answer that question for me without partisanship, without stump speech phrases, and without rancor?

It's Past Time

I don’t know where I read this story, nor do I recall the story word for word. I do, however, believe it to be pertinent today even more so than thirty five years ago when it first appeared.
In mid 1974, a man was showing a friend around his home. They viewed several rooms together, then went to an area where there were several pictures hanging on the wall. The centerpiece of this area was a very large photo of Richard Nixon, the President of the United States. The time was shortly before Mr. Nixon would resign his office due to the Watergate scandal. The picture was framed in a very nice frame and lit with a light over the photo.
The friend asked the man how he could honor such a man as Richard Nixon like this, since Nixon had lied about his involvement in Watergate, then tried to cover it up. Impeachment was a distinct possibility.
The man replied that he wasn’t honoring Mr. Nixon; rather he was giving honor to the President of the United States. The man further explained that regardless of party affiliation, he had hung a photo of the current President in this spot for many years in a desire to honor the office and the one holding that office.
The man explained that as long as Mr. Nixon was the President, he deserved the honor of being placed in such a position in his home. When another President was selected, regardless of party affiliation, and whether by election or by succession, his (or her) photo would be hung in that place.
There’s a lesson here for all of us. Regardless of our party affiliation; regardless of our passion for certain issues; regardless of who occupies the office of President (or Vice President, or Senator, or Mayor, or Governor), they deserve the respect and deference of the office they hold. We may disagree, and do so vigorously, with their ideology. But we do so with respect for the office and for the rule of law that placed them there.
In recent years we have lost that sense of respect. We have lost the civility. We have lost the ability to disagree, yet remain on civil terms. I long for the days of Bob Dole and Everett Dirkson. I am saddened by the crudeness, the hostility, and the outright ill will that accompanies our disagreement with someone else.
Such behavior is juvenile, ignorant, and crude. And it certainly has no place in the life of a professing Christian. Peter says to “fear God and honor the King.” At that time, the “King” was the Caesar of Rome, from whence came all manner of persecution of Christians and from whence eventually came Peter’s own death. Can you imagine Peter (or Paul) telling crude jokes about the Caesar, or wishing his death or injury? Neither can I.
Paul says that we are to “imitate me (Paul) as I (Paul) imitate Christ” (I Cor. 11:1) How can we possibly say we’re even trying to do that when our minds are filled with vitriol and even hatred for those with which we disagree politically?
The Christian community has a lot of repenting to do and a lot of changing of attitude and action. It’s past time to get started with that.

No Judgment From Me

I was watching a little of the History Channel tonight. The program was one about military snipers. In particular, the part of the program I saw was about Charles Benjamin "Chuck" Mawhinney, a Marine Corps sniper in Vietnam in the late 1960’s. He has the most confirmed kills of any Marine Corps sniper, 103, and 216 probable kills. Wiki says that this man was born about the same time I was and would be about my age.
When he got out of active duty, he came back home, started a family, and worked for the Forest Service until he retired a few years ago. He lived in obscurity until about 1990, when word of his achievement was published in a book. He now attends sniper conventions (I didn’t know there were such things) and gives speeches.
I don’t know about you, but this man was in a different universe when he was an active Marine. He talks of the kills as if it was a natural thing to do and says he has no nightmares, etc. regarding his job in the Marines. His rationale for doing what he did was good, and I can understand the necessity of it. That doesn’t change, however, the fact that war is not at all like the movies; not at all the glorious and grand thing it’s often portrayed to be.
War is ugly. War is brutal. And war is savage. The normal civilian population has no comprehension what some of our men and women have endured or the lives they have lived in Europe, Vietnam, Korea, Iraq, and other places and times when we fought and died.
Mr. Mawhinney said in the interview that if he and his partner would have likely been captured, they would have not allowed themselves to be taken alive because of what the enemy would do to a sniper from the other side. He recounts one incident in Vietnam where he took sixteen shots and had sixteen kills…all head shots from 50 yards at night with a monsoon closing in.
Some men (and women) willingly do things that aren’t even on my radar screen, and do it as a matter of course in order to survive. And they voluntarily place themselves in those positions because they volunteer to serve our country in one of the military branches of service.
Once a Marine…always a Marine. Even though I have the greatest value for human life and know full well both the spiritual and moral implications of taking a life, I dare not sit in judgment of this man or of anyone who serves. And even though I haven’t the faintest comprehension of the full import of what I saw on that program, and probably never will, I thank Mr. Mawhinney and others who willingly do those things that allow me to live my life in relative peace and safety.

You Breathe In and Out...

I was visiting with one of our residents early this morning (well, early for me…about 8am) as he was sitting at the breakfast table. He took off his glasses, blew on them, and put them back on. Now, I’ve done that more than once, and I’ll wager that you have too, just to get the big chunks off of them. The fine cleaning would come later. I mentioned to him that I did that sometimes as well, and he said to me, “You gotta breathe in and out; you might as well do something productive with it.”
This man has mild dementia and cannot live on his own. However, what he said was well worth it and was right on. Of course, he was talking about blowing on his glasses. I immediately thought of some other things.
You might as well do something productive. Why do we waste our time and energy on things that don’t matter?
You might as well do something productive. Why do we do or say things that we know are harmful to ourselves or others?
You might as well do something productive. Why do we complain about things that we can’t change?
You might as well do something productive. Is there any way we can leave our corner of the world better for our having been here?
You might as well do something productive. How can we serve those we know have need?
You might as well do something productive. Can you be an example of honesty, integrity, and truthfulness rather than selfishness, greed, and vice?
You might as well do something productive. What would it take for us to mentor a child, volunteer at the school, or be a special friend to a neighbor?
If you’re reading this, you’re breathing in and out. What have you done with those breaths that has been productive today?

Pickups and Carloads

Yesterday, I helped my niece move from her rented apartment to a home that she and her fiancé had bought just the day before. She will be living there and preparing the house to be a home until later this spring when they will be married. (How refreshing to see them living together AFTER they are married instead of before.) She has quite a task ahead of her, even though the house is fairly new and won’t need much painting, fixing, etc.
There are drapes to hang, a yard to work, furniture to buy (and move), things to hang on the wall, and the usual assortment of little “fixes” that are inevitable when someone moves into a new home. She and her fiancé will be busy these next few months.
It took three pickups and a couple of carloads to move everything she had out of the apartment and to the house, which is just a couple of blocks up the street in the same addition where we are living. Obviously, they will accumulate more “stuff” as time goes by, but I’m hopeful they will be mindful of a couple of things; where their stuff ultimately comes from, and just how much of it they are accumulating through the years.
Life does not consist of our possessions, says the Good Book. There’s a lot more to this than who has the most toys when he dies. After all, if that’s it, what’s the use?
We have a lot to learn about possessions and things. All too often, we define and identify ourselves by our possessions. Surely, there is much more to a living, breathing human being than what car he drives or what brand jeans she wears.
These kids have, if all is normal, a long life ahead of them. There will be plenty of time for possessions. Far more important will be the fostering and flowering of the relationship and the development of a solid foundation for a committed life together as husband and wife.
Godspeed.

Responsibility

I was laying awake last night at about 4am (I don’t know the exact time…I didn’t want to know), and was thinking about the word “responsibility”. Don’t ask me why, I just was. In any event, I was thinking about that word, along with what it means, and what kinds of responsibilities I had in various aspects of my life.
I can easily understand why some people get so upset about the responsibilities of life that they become virtually paralyzed and cannot function in ordinary situations such as work, home life, and living. It can be a daunting thing to think of all of those people and situations who are dependent in some way or another on someone to do a job or carry out a task.
In the light of day as we go about our daily tasks, the burden seems somehow lessened. We manage to do at least most of what we are responsible for doing, and what doesn’t ge done waits until another day or really didn’t need to be done at all. But at times when it is quiet and we are alone with our thoughts, they can quickly loom ever larger until they just seem to overwhelm the senses.
I am reminded of Paul’s statement that he had learned the secret of contentment. Whatever the situation he found himself in, he said, he learned to be content with it. I would imagine that if anyone had responsibilities that seemed to overwhelm, it may have been him. Carried into situations not of his making and which altered his plans for the future in big ways, Paul learned to rely on a Higher Power and be content with wherever he found himself.
I know that I need to emulate Paul and others that have managed to find the secret of contentment and peace, even in the midst of chaos and disorder. I have a difficult time with that, and know that I would have a much easier time of life in general if I wasn’t so worried about getting this done or fulfilling that responsibility in a timely manner. Yes, we as Christians are to be diligent to live our lives “as unto the Lord” and so we must do the best we can. But to worry excessively about something or to allow external forces to take away our happiness, contentment, and peace is not appropriate and has no place in the life of the Christian.
I also know that for some people, the problem of excessive worry goes beyond what can reasonably be accommodated, and professional help may be needed. If so, there should be no stigma attached to that need; rather, we support and encourage our fellow Christian as best we know how and “bear one-another’s burden.”
Most of us don’t have the worry of where we will get our next meal, or where we will stay the night. Instead, our worries are more along the lines of paying bills, keeping promises, and attending to looming future events. We have moved away from worry about survival to worry about things not as important. The fallout of that worry, however, does not change. We can still be paralyzed by excessive worry, and that worry can rob us of the peace and contentment promised by our God.
There are no easy fixes. There is nothing I know of that will change this in five minutes or less. I know it is a learning process. And I know that true peace and contentment are gifts and blessings from God. I know that it involves one giving up the right to control one’s destiny and allowing God to take charge. I know that it is a daily decision that becomes a daily way of life.
And that, my friend, is not easy.

Preparation and Prayer

I’m teaching an adult class this quarter (beginning tomorrow) on Exodus. When I was asked to teach it, I thought to myself, “That’s 40 chapters in 12 weeks in an Old Testament book that many people see as rather dry history.” Accepting the challenge after a day or two of thought, I now face the challenge of making this class something like our education minister had in mind for it.
Of course, we will need to do kind of an overview thing this quarter. There’s no way we can discuss each verse, or even each event, story, or section of the book. I’ll have to find the highlights, and for that I’ll need some kind of guidance to land on those places that I think will make the most relevant sense for us today.
In thinking about that, I was taken back to many years ago when I did a series of sermons on Joshua. I took much of my information from a book written by Dale Ralph Davis called “No Falling Words”. In the book, he zeroes in on God’s promises and how those promises were kept. Joshua, in his farewell address to the people in chapter 23 said that “Not one word of all the good words of Jehovah have fallen to the ground.” Of course, he meant that God has kept each and every promise that he gave to the nation of Israel.
Although the first promise to Israel was given to Abraham in Genesis 12, the fulfillment of that promise, and many others, in many ways begins as Exodus opens with the story of the calling of Moses and Aaron. I think it will be quite good to prepare the upcoming lessons based on the idea of “No Falling Words” and what that means for God’s people today.
I have all 12 lessons (we won’t meet for class Easter Sunday) outlined, and the introduction to the first lesson done. I’ll prepare the rest of tomorrow’s lesson later on today. We’ll look at the first three chapters of the book.
I enjoy teaching, as it gives me fresh eyes to look at something I perhaps have looked at many times before. I don’t pretend that I will cause any earth shattering changes in the lives of my students, but I do encourage them to think for themselves, to examine what they’ve always thought about God and their relationship with Him, and to go from class a little more refreshed than when they came into class. I am also acutely aware that as a teacher, I will be held to a greater account (according to James in 3:1).
Tomorrow should be interesting just in seeing who will be coming to this class. I doubt that I will have a house full, but hope that there will be enough that we can have good discussions. I would ask you to wish me luck, but suspect that preparation and prayer have much more to do with it than luck. So as I prepare and pray, if you’ll pray with me, perhaps the favor of the Lord will shine.

Enjoy the Spring

The last couple of days have been, weather-wise, just wonderful. Compared to the weeks and weeks that preceded, these days are a gift to be savored. It’s a little early to say that winter is over, but it is March after all, and things are warming up.
A couple of days ago, the neighbor kids were out on the driveway shooting baskets…in bare feet. Deer have come back to the park out back of our house, and we’re beginning to see a few more varieties of birds. The tulips are peeking through, and people are beginning to stir around, get things cleaned up, and prepare for the summer ahead.
I like all four seasons, but I think spring is my favorite. It’s a time for renewal and growth; of promise and expectation. The sometimes stifling heat of summer seems to suck some of that promise and expectation out of my system at times, but that’s to be expected in this part of the world.
It’s been a rather cold and dreary winter, this one has. All winters seem that way at times, but this one seems to have hung on longer than in recent past years. When the gray, foggy days just go on and on, people begin to get a little nervous. Folks have shorter tempers, and it just seems that it will never end. But it does, of course.
I hope you’re looking forward to spring as well. It’s a great time of the year. Stop and take the time to enjoy it.

Always a Possibility

Today was just a lost day, it seems, for me. I was just wasted today and didn’t feel at all well. No bugs or illness…I think it was a mild exhaustion that overtook me today. Not sure why because I seem to sleep well, and long enough. I got home a little early today and promptly took a 45 minute nap, which helped immensely. I wish I could have done that about 10am this morning.
You know the kind of day. You have to work extremely hard, it seems, to put one foot in front of the other. Your brain isn’t working as well as it should. And you’re just not really into anything you do. Caffeine doesn’t help a lot. You can’t wait to be done.
And that is kind of sad because this was the prettiest day outside. One of the best. Tomorrow promises to be as good, however, so I am looking forward to that. We’ve had lots of winter, but not nearly like they’ve had in the Northeast.
Every Friday I look back over the week and think about what happened. I compare it with what I thought (or hoped) would happen five days before. It never seems to be anything close to what I thought it would be, even when I know some of what I have to do that week. I don’t know why I do this…maybe it’s one of those things that everyone does, but they just don’t talk much about it.
This weekend will be somewhat busy for us, but enjoyable. Unless, that is, things happen that disrupt our plans and routine. And that’s always a possibility.

This and That

I don’t know why some days just seem to take it out of me more than others. Yesterday and today were both like that. I don’t know if it was the amount of things I had to do, what those things were, or my physical or mental condition…maybe a combination of all of the above. In any event, I’m glad this day is almost over, and can pretty much guarantee you that I will be in bed by 10pm or shortly after.
In other thoughts, aren’t the Olympics something! I’ve watched them for many years now, and always enjoy most of the sports that are presented. Some, of course, I enjoy more than others. Do real men really watch figure skating? Yes, they do, and many of them enjoy it.
As time continues to march on, I am more and more convinced that what is here…what is in this life…this existence…doesn’t really matter all that much. It didn’t used to be this way, but now there is an overriding truth in all of my thinking that tells me to temper any decisions regarding the here and now with the reality of the eternity of which we partake as certainly as we exist.
I’ve agreed to teach an adult class this spring on the book of Exodus. I’ll have twelve Sundays to go through all of those chapters and help my class make sense of what is there. It certainly is a different way of teaching than I’m used to. I like to take things more slowly, but really, Exodus isn’t written in that way in very many places. So the survey approach probably will work better anyway.
There were about half a dozen crows in the peak of the bare cottonwood out back this morning. That tree is the tallest one around and the crows were at its peak, looking around, cawing some, and flying off a short way and back again. I came in and told my wife about it. She thought maybe they were discussing where to have breakfast. I dunno. Even though they are “just birds”, I like crows. I’ve heard, and have also thought, that they are probably one of the more intelligent animals we have around. You can read some of the work that has been done on that topic by Googling crow intelligence. Some of that is a rather interesting read.
It’s time to get back to the Olympics.

You Get What You Get

It’s been another cloudy, dreary day here with freezing rain and sleet falling sporadically. It seems to be melting when it hits the ground, so things aren’t slick. The official temp is 34 degrees, but probably will fall tonight.
We were out doing some errands this morning and had to drive to several locations. Most of the time, the drivers were pretty good, but we ran into (figuratively, of course) one or two that I kind of had to scratch my head (figuratively, of course) and wonder what in the world they were trying to do. One woman, it seemed, was making a “U” turn on East Douglas in the middle of traffic, holding up the works in several directions. One person (gender is known, but will not be given for fear of my being accused of being biased) sped up and passed me in the rain on I 235 only to get behind a truck after passing, slowing down, and making me go around her so I didn’t have to slow down. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, nor was I sure I wanted to know.
And so it goes, to borrow a phrase from Linda Ellerbee. All in all, our foray into the retail and public areas of Wichita went well, including our visit to Sam’s Club to buy a few things and cash our rebate check.
So it’s been a slow day, which probably is a good thing for us. We’re watching the Olympics, the KU basketball game, doing laundry, and otherwise just vegging around. I went out to the garage awhile ago, but didn’t stay even though there were things I needed to do, because it was cold enough there that it wouldn’t have been a very pleasant time. One of these days, I have to get out there and do some of the accumulating chores.
We’ll host our small group tomorrow evening, and of course we meet for church in the morning. The wife is on administrative nursing call this weekend, but hasn’t had much in the way of issues just yet. Let’s hope that dearth of problems continues through the weekend.
That’s it. Not much from here. I don’t feel like stretching my brain today to ponder the meaning of life or the origin of the species. You get what you get.

Another Day

Today is Valentine’s Day. According to Wiki, the day is named for at least two Christian martyrs of early Christian times. The day was authorized by a Catholic pope in the fifth century, and currently is a time of celebration of love and affection between intimate companions. I assume most all of that is pretty close to authoritative.
We didn’t do much to celebrate the holiday. I never like to do much to celebrate any holiday, including birthdays, and today isn’t any different. We did go to a nice Italian restaurant for Sunday dinner. It wasn’t crowded or noisy, and the food was good. We also spent the afternoon with each other, as we normally do on weekends and went to see the grandkids and took pizza over to their place this evening along with Valentine cards and candy for the kids.
A couple of observations and comments please. First, my apologies to my wife for my reluctance to celebrate this or any holiday in the traditional way. I never was comfortable doing some of the traditional holiday things. She has known that for years, but somehow I feel the need to say it again.
I want her to know that in spite of her not getting flowers or chocolates today, I love her intensely, and cherish the time we are together, even if it’s just sitting in our easy chairs watching the Olympics. When she’s gone overnight, I don’t sleep well. I notice the empty space. Things just aren’t normal. When she’s not feeling well, I don’t feel well. Again, things just aren’t normal.
Second, it’s great to be a grandparent. Who else could take pizza and candy over to a couple of pre-schoolers, let them indulge in both, and then leave after a couple of hours and have someone else deal with the aftermath?
There’s also something about the unconditional love between grandparent and grandchild that is just different from anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s not the same as a parent/child relationship. In fact, it’s not the same as any other relationship. On this day especially, it’s a privilege to be reminded of the special bond between the grandkids and us.
I don’t know if my wife is disappointed in my lack of holiday skills or not. If she is, she doesn’t say anything about it. I am capable of a lot of things and, I suppose, could break down and get flowers on Valentine’s Day. I’d much rather, though, do something unexpected on a routine and regular day. To me, that seems more genuine than doing something on a certain day just because everyone else does it.
Tomorrow is another day.

Surprises Await

I’m reading a book called “Physics For the Rest of Us” by Roger S. Jones. Yes, it is what you think it may be, a book that attempts to explain modern physics in language and ways the ordinary person can understand. Although the author tried very hard to do this, he didn’t succeed, at least with me. There are places in the book that are relatively easy to understand, but there are places where it just isn’t possible to mush it all down into something that the ordinary person can swallow.
I am fascinated by modern physics…relativity, the quantum theory, the big bang, and all of that. Many of the things I do understand are just jaw-dropping. The world that we think we know of as such an orderly and predictable place is, in fact, a world of organized chaos, probability, and unthinkable truth. Imagine light slowing down inside a substance to a speed of a few inches a minute. Imagine a beam of light exiting a substance before it enters into it. Imagine a particle thousands of miles away reacting to the deliberate modification of it’s “partner” particle, with no apparent connection between the two. Imagine the fact that one can know either the movement of a particle or it’s location, but not both at the same time. Imagine something that behaves either like an electromagnetic wave or like a physical particle (commonly thought to be an impossibility due to the vastly different properties of each), depending not on anything it does, but rather depending on how it is observed. Imagine an electrical current that, once induced into it, traverses a metal for hundreds of thousands of years, yet never being replenished or decaying.
I could continue, but you get the idea. The book tries to explain the above phenomena, but I couldn’t understand it all. What I do understand, and what I take from the book is the incredible complexity of this creation.
That, friend, is a gross understatement, but it’s the best I can do. This creation is just astonishingly, amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly complex. For example, why is a crystalline substance either a conductor of electricity (metallic copper) or transparent (diamond); but not both. And how does the answer to that fit in with all the rest of the creation and enable everything else to work as it should? Yet it fits together and works perfectly; astonishingly, amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly well. We don’t know so much more than we do know, but what we do know is more than enough to be able to say that something truly unique is going on here…never in quintillions of years could all of this come together on its own.
I’m about three quarters finished with the book. Many more surprises await, I’m sure.

The Future Visited

Is it a sign that one is getting older when his vision of the future doesn’t include anything beyond a certain number of years? Or is that just normal?
When I was much younger, my vision of the future was virtually unlimited in terms of length. I could think 20, 30, even 50 or 60 years into the future and find that I was a part of it. Now, whenever I think much beyond 20 or so years, I also think that I probably won’t be around to see it anyway, so why worry about it.
I have to wonder just how common of a thing that is. I know there may be some folks that don’t think that far ahead at all. They have concerns in the here and now, and don’t look much beyond the week or month ahead. There are others who enjoy thinking about life in the twenty-second or twenty-third centuries, and some (Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, and others) who have made tons of money from those thoughts.
I would think, though, that as life begins to wind down, a part of that process is a change in how one thinks about things to come, as well as the things that were and are. I’m already well past the point that I think I have to scratch my way to the top of the work pinnacle, or that I have to prove my competence to someone else. Yes, I still do good work and I still give 100% when at work, but the reason for doing so is different. I’m also looking more to the time when I won’t have to punch the time clock so religiously.
This thing called aging is yet another adventure that I am witnessing in myself and in others I know and love. It, like all other of life’s adventures, is a marvelous thing to behold and presents far more questions than answers. I may no longer be seeing myself 50 or 60 years from now in the future I concoct in my mind, but I’ll still have enough to think about as time marches on.

A Place to Go

Well, folks, it’s been a few days since I’ve written, or even felt like I had something to say. It’s been cloudy, foggy, rainy, snowy, and generally dreary for more days than I care to count. I think the lack of sun truly is beginning to take a toll on me as I struggle at times to maintain a decent demeanor.
It doesn’t help that work seems to be never-ending. Additionally, things seem to never get better…we always seem to be a half-step behind the ball, catching up in some way. We hold things together, but just once I’d like to see us at the top of the hill looking down instead of struggling against the grain trying to gain a little altitude.
Maybe that’s not practical in today’s work world. As I talk with others who work in different places for different employers, it seems to be the same everywhere. Everyone seems to be peddling hard just to keep from falling off. These are the folks who have to remind themselves that they are thankful they have someplace to go at 8 o’clock on Monday morning.
And then there are those who don’t have any place to go on Monday morning. They probably haven’t had a place to go on Monday morning for several weeks to several months to even a year or more. For them, life is on a different plane. They think differently, plan differently, and act differently. Life centers on unemployment insurance, expense cuts, and possibly even acceptance of charity. They worry about health insurance, or lack thereof. They don’t sleep much some nights. And their demeanor is even harder to control sometimes.
So as I gripe about work and lack of sunshine and where I am on the hill of life, I must also think of others who have different worries and different concerns. And I indeed am grateful that I have a place to go on Monday morning.