Quite Inert

I started thinking today about a new Christian I had heard about via email. I began to wonder what this woman has already learned about the Christian faith and what traditions and dogmas she has been taught. Now, don’t misunderstand. A tradition or a dogma is not necessarily a bad thing. A dogma is simply a belief that a religion holds to be true. And without tradition, we often feel ungrounded and blown about in the sea of life.
There is, however, a tendency for us to allow tradition and dogma to take on roles not suited. And we sometimes mix up dogma and tradition, making dogma tradition and making tradition dogma. We should have at least some idea of the difference in the two and know within ourselves which we hold to be truth and which we merely practice as tradition. In the world of faith, tradition should never be held to the same standard that dogma should be held. We err greatly, I think, when we allow that to happen.
The higher reaches of the particular “brand” of religion we practice should also hold those two separate and truthfully tell its adherents which it believes to be what, and why. All too often, I fear, we who teach others fail to grasp the significance of failure to do this, and the effect it has on those who are being taught. For if we teach tradition as dogma, we then are at some point compelled to explain why. That tends to force us to use the standard by which we measure dogma (for most of Christendom, that is the Bible) to measure tradition and make the standard “fit” our argument that our tradition is really dogma. This, of course, necessitates either changing the standard (New World Translation of the Watchtower Society, for example), or interpreting the existing standard in such a way as to make it work with our teaching. Either way causes the standard to cease to be the true standard and become merely our tool to persuade, control, and manage those we teach.
The Christian faith should be a faith of child-like wonder and a never-ending curiosity that is never quite fulfilled; never quite satisfied. It doesn’t matter if I am 16 or 96, my faith should continue to spark new questions, new thoughts and ideas, and new notions about the God who created us all. If I ever become comfortable in my faith to the point that I ask no questions, think no new thoughts, or never re-examine what I believe and why, then my faith has died within me. I’ve become quite inert and probably odious to my God as well.

Glitz and Glamour

We talked some in class this morning of God working in us through the routine and mundane of our lives. In other words, most of the time God works in us as we go about our normal, ordinary routines of life, work, and relaxation. I’ve taught this before, but it’s always kind of an eye-opener to understand yet again that God often doesn’t come to His people in flashes of brilliance and extraordinary accomplishment (although that certainly happens, I think), but rather in the ordinary things of raising a family, working, going to school, and even more specific things like driving kids to a ball game, fixing lunch, or talking on the phone (that betrays my age…no one actually TALKS anymore).
We many times think of our lives as a boring monotony, broken by the only occasional laughter, fear, or apprehension. I think God may see our lives as anything but boring monotony. And we would do well to understand that as God opens doors for us to walk through, we can always have in the back of our minds the sense of adventure and the promise that our faith, in taking that step through the open door will somehow result in glory coming to the God of all gods.
God gave the promised land to Israel, but He didn’t do it in just a few days or even a few months. The text says that Israel fought “a long time,” and God himself said that it wouldn’t be a quick thing, but it would be a sure thing. I’m sure Israel grew tired of the “routine” of battle and the fact that they couldn’t settle down in the promised land for many years following the beginning of the conquest. Eventually, however, Joshua dismissed the tribes to the land that he apportioned to them and as the text says, “The land had rest from war.”
We want things done now, right away. We want things done in a flashy, almost magical time frame and with all the glitz and glamour that even Vegas would be proud of. Yes, God can be glitzy. God can do glamorous things. Most of the time, though, He does things in His own time and in His own way, with people whose lives are spent in the routine and ordinary…yet doing extraordinary things by the power of God.

Some Visiting

Yesterday, we went to Pratt, then to Hesston to visit relatives. Our first stop was in Pratt at the local care home where our first cousin, once removed, was living. Now, you might ask why we went all that way to see a cousin that is “once removed”. We do things a little differently in our family. Folks who are related to us are important to us. They are our connection with our ancestors, our heritage, and our upbringing, all of which we value very highly. We also know that she has no other close relatives besides a son who has not visited her in many years. And we know she provides a valuable link to a part of our family that we know very little about.
We then went to Hesston and saw several relatives…an uncle by marriage, a blood uncle and his wife (our aunt as certainly as if she was a blood relative), and a first cousin. We also happened upon a woman in the hall of the assisted living complex who was our first cousin once removed from the other side of our family. She was someone we previously had not known, and know very little about her parents…her mom being our great aunt. She was very willing to visit and invited us back for another visit and look through some of her old photos, etc.
We seldom go as far as third cousins or some such, as that gets rather far afield, although we certainly recognize them and their lineage as it relates to our common ancestor(s). We have a genealogy person in our family who likes this kind of thing, and we sometimes are able to gather bits of data for her. All in all, it was a good day and very satisfying for us. I trust it was for the folks we visited as well.
Each time we visit, I am struck yet again by the stories we tell of those relatives now gone. They lived good lives, but life was in many cases hard and sometimes seemingly cruel. Survival during the Great Depression often meant gathering berries from the roadside in order to have something to eat, or frying a flour and oil concoction in a pan and calling it a meal. Medicine was primitive by today’s standards and quarantines were not unusual. Nor were illnesses like scarlet fever, mumps, measles, or tetanus. Running water and indoor plumbing were not always available and starting over in life was an all-too-routine thing to do. Medicare and Medicaid were but a dream in a progressive’s eye.
These people lived, in good part, with reliance on and faith in Someone greater than themselves. They knew they were at the mercy of the elements, the depression, and the illnesses that plagued them. Yet they persisted, they persevered, they finished the course in this race called life. And for that example, we “moderns” owe them a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.

Just A Short Time

Sometime soon, my sister and I will make a trip to Pratt to visit a cousin who is in the nursing home there. From there we’ll go to Hesston and visit a couple of uncles, an aunt, and cousin. I have somewhat mixed feelings about these visits and I’ll tell you why.
On the one hand, I am eager to see these folks. They have been part of my life for as long as I can remember. For them to honor me with their time is a blessing almost beyond words. But on the other hand, visits like this remind all of us of the inexorable march of time and the toll it takes on the creation and the created.
Our cousin in Pratt is from a branch of the family that we don’t have much contact with anymore, and I haven’t seen her for well over 10 years. Now, that’s my fault, not hers. She has always been in the Pratt area and I just haven’t taken the time to make the trip until now.
The family in Hesston we see more often. We last visited there just a few months ago, it seems, and we enjoy the time we have together, even if its just a short time with lunch thrown in.
Of course, on the way to and from, sis and I will talk of times gone by and reminisce about what we remember (or don’t remember) about these family members. I’m sure they do the same with us when we’re not there…conjuring up what now may be fuzzy images of times long ago gone.
Already, those younger ones in our family are starting to reminisce and remember things that happened with us…can it be that it will be just a short time until we too wait for the visits by the younger ones to brighten our days?

A Bad Day

I went in to my local doctor’s office today to pay a bill that has been outstanding for a month or so. When I went in, I went to the receptionist for my doctor. She was on the phone with someone, so I waited. She mouthed to me during the call that she would be “right with me”. The call took a couple of minutes, but it ended.
I said to her, “Ma’am, I’m John Plank (my legal name), and I’m wondering if I have a balance due on my account, and I know there is a balance on my wife’s account. I’d like to pay anything I owe.”
She starts digging in a drawer beside her that has file folders in it. I’m thinking the drawer contains account information, although I wonder about that since the office is modern and computerized. She can’t seem to find what she’s looking for, turns to me and says, “Do you have an appointment?”
Now I realize that the drawer had all of the day’s patient records in it and she was searching for mine. I said, “No, ma’am. I’m just here to pay my bill.” I’m just a little puzzled by now, thinking I may not be dealing with the brightest bulb on the shelf.
The phone rings again. She asks if the caller could hold. Evidently not, because she listened for a minute or so, then they talked some. During this call, the second line began ringing, but someone else answered it. She hung up her call, and started typing on her keyboard. The first line rang again and she again asked if the caller could hold. This time the caller held.
She punched the keyboard for a good period of time while trying to talk to another staffer about the prior call. She finally told me that I owed $20 on my account, and also told me that my wife owed $134.05. I reminded her of her caller on hold and told her she could go ahead and take the call since I wasn’t going anywhere. I figured that no faster than we were going anyway, it wouldn’t matter much. She looked at me quizzically, then at the phone, saw the blinking button, and answered the call.
Following the call, she went to the back and asked a woman how she should process the payment since I was paying on two bills at once. They wanted to know how I was paying. I held up my credit card and they talked some more. The woman told her to run the card for the total and note the separate numbers on the receipt that they would keep.
I gave her my card after she came back to the desk. She turned toward her calculator and started punching in numbers. I wondered what she was doing, since the two numbers were $134.05 and $20.00. That easily totals in one’s head to $154.05. I thought she might have found some other charges. No, she turns to me after at least 30 seconds at the calculator and says, “The total is $154.05.”
The rest of the interaction was relatively uneventful and I left, thanking God for the ability to add in my head and multi-task. I would never disparage or make fun of anyone who does not have those abilities (although I admit to having done so in the past), but I have to wonder why someone like that is working in a position that requires some proficiency in those areas. Hopefully, she was just having a bad day, and it got better…quickly.

We Go On

Wow! Has it really been since the fourth of June that I’ve written? Well, now that I’m retired and have nothing to do (cough cough), I should right every day, huh.
So much water under the bridge (so to speak) that I won’t bother to summarize, except to say that Minnesota was much, much cooler and more pleasant than the weather currently in effect in Southern Kansas. We even slept with the windows open, and were very comfortable there.
One would think that with retirement would come hours and days of nothing to do. Nothing could be further from the truth. Already my social and work calendar is being filled with this place to go, that thing to do, etc. The honey-do list has started (replacing the kitchen sink and faucet) and I am struggling to find time to do some of the things I wanted to get started on right away.
Of course, the heat outdoors is keeping some of the outdoor work and activity at bay. The mosquitoes are also bad now, with the big black ones attacking, not even circling, but zeroing in on exposed flesh like a dive bomber. Thankfully, they are large enough that I normally can feel them land and have a chance to swat at ‘em before they take a liquid meal. And they strike even in the heat of the day, to say nothing of early morning and evening.
So we go on. Mosquitoes and heat notwithstanding, we trundle on in life, only somewhat cognizant of what lies ahead, or what we’d like to lie ahead. We hurtle on into the great abyss of the future in faith that it will all work out OK; that things will make themselves known at the right time; that our faith will carry us through to the end.
To borrow a phrase from Linda Ellerbee, “And so it goes.”

I Know

I had opportunity today to think back over my work career. I don’t know if you’ve ever done something like that or not, but it might be worth the effort. I must say that my career has been varied, both in location and vocation, and I’ve had wonderful opportunities to do things and touch the lives of others in ways I would never have imagined at the start of my vocational endeavors.
I learned customer service early on through work with one of the corporate giants, the 3M Company. I learned that I had the capability to take on projects and be successful in what I did through my work at a radio and television station where I was responsible for the physical re-location of the studios of the radio station in an overnight move. I also had responsibility for all remote broadcasts (which were done frequently back then) and had that procedure down to a science.
Other jobs taught me that life wasn’t always fair; that superiors don’t always appreciate competence, and that people can be difficult to work with and are surely illogical and unpredictable. I also learned that I wasn’t perfect; that I didn’t have all the answers, and that I sometimes was just flat wrong in my assumptions about some thing or some one.
I learned the value of developing relationships with vendors, consultants, and people in other professions who could be helpful, and the knack of calling on those folks at the right time for the right reasons. And I learned that it can be a lonely experience at the top, and that “been there, done that” isn’t such a bad thing to say after all.
I know that I can do almost anything I set myself to do. I have the capability to learn on the fly, and can be quite successful when I decide to do so. I can also slough off and get by, and have managed to become quite good at that as well.
I am becoming aware that I have a life of experience and living that many people do not have, and am willing to share that wisdom with others who ask for it. I’ve learned that some people actually do ask that I share what I know, and seem to be grateful for the advice and counsel.
It’s been a great ride. Most of my experiences I wouldn’t trade for a hundred million dollars, but I have no desire to ever do them again. As I go into the next phase of life and living, I hold to the past in some ways, but look forward to what lies ahead in other ways. And whether that future is one day or one decade long, I know I have been blessed.

Just Take Me To the Home...

OK, P.J. Just take me to the home now. I don’t want to pass go. I don’t want to collect two hundred dollars.
I went to Wal Mart this morning to pick up an item or two before we went to central Kansas for a memorial weekend lunch with relatives. When I came out of the Wal, I couldn’t find my pickup anywhere. I knew where I had parked it, as I parked right next to a handicapped stall.
I went up and down the line and even over a line or two just to make sure. I then called Pat and told her. She said she’d come down my way to get me. Meanwhile, I called 911. The nice woman took my information, then transferred me to the place where those reports are taken. I must have been waiting for ten minutes or so for someone to pick up the phone to take my report, all the while thinking about my red pickup going off to God only knows where with God only knows who in it.
Having a vehicle stolen is not a good feeling. I can testify by firsthand experience.
While I was waiting for whoever to answer to take my report (only after I give the report will they broadcast the information to the beat officers…by now it could be in Newton), I looked one more time at the stall which now had another vehicle in it.
I glanced at the tag number of that vehicle and it seemed familiar to me. “Oh, it’s a silver car just like ours. It IS ours!” I had forgotten that I took the car instead of the pickup and had red pickup on the brain instead of silver car.
So I called the nice woman at 911 (after I called Pat and told her to not come…she already knew what had happened because when she went to the garage to come get me, lo and behold, there was the pickup) and just told her that I had found my vehicle. I did not tell her that I forgot which one I was driving.
So, just come visit me in the memory care section of the nursing home. I’ll be there watching reruns of “Rio Bravo”, cheering when the Duke blasts some bad guy because it’ll all be fresh…every time.

Shrimp on a Treadmill

A friend of mine suggested that I could comment on the “shrimp on a treadmill” video on YouTube. I dunno. Is that worth a comment? Let’s see. Even that shrimp on a treadmill has political overtones because it’s done by the National Science Foundation and is part of a research project costing half a million dollars. At least one Senator thinks it’s dumb.
I don’t know if it’s dumb or not. What I do know is that sometimes the unusual, or to us the very incongruous can reveal knowledge that is inestimable.
Now, I don’t know about this specific experiment, nor do I know anything about the research project. I’m not qualified to comment on any of this either yes or no. Besides, my opinion doesn’t matter in the great scheme of things anyhow.
But, the sight of a shrimp on a treadmill does bring a smile and a kind of “who would have thought” notion. I mean, come on. Have you ever in your life thought that you’d like to see a shrimp on a treadmill, or that such a thing could reveal some scientific fact that could benefit the human race? I’d guess not.
I also suspect that if you could look long enough on YouTube, you’d find just about anything you could (or could not) think of, including shrimp on a treadmill. I don’t pretend to know much about what’s on YouTube. I do confess to checking out some things, usually old television shows or entertainers now long gone. It’s a great part of the Internet, but like everything, it has its bad side as well as its good side.
So, shrimp on a treadmill? Bring it on. And while we’re at it, let’s see a fly on a ladder, a roach driving a snowmobile, and a mouse giving a cat a bath.

When They Handed Out Brains...

I dunno. This latest craziness going around is all the hullabaloo over the supposed end of the world that will happen tomorrow (if it really happens, you probably won't be reading this, but that's another story...) and all the things that go along with it. I could probably go into a long litany of why I think the guy's a freak show, but won't. What I am wondering is why anyone cares.
Think about it for a few seconds. If the end of everything comes, it'll truly all be over. You won't be able to do anything about the coming of the end; nor will you be able to change anything once it starts. Everything will be "scripted", so to speak. You don't have to know anything, do anything, or be anything...you will be given to know what to say, do, etc. as the need arises. And if the end never comes, you'll be dead and not able to change anything either.
YOU CAN'T CHANGE ANYTHING. Why worry about it? Why even think about it? And for heaven's sake, why send money to some quack? Even if he's correct, for what does he need money? If the end is coming, why is he asking for donations?
The reason we're told to be ready at any time is so when it does happen, we will be ready. Seems to me that's a logical and fair way to live life. Make plans, buy and sell, have a family, etc. If the end comes at some time during that time, it won't matter anyway. What will matter is whether or not you are ready.
When they handed out brains, some people didn't get a full load. Either that or they put 'em some place besides in their heads. And sometimes I think modern journalism is short some neurons as well. What's the deal with covering this like it's the first manned Mars launch? Let the guy wallow in his own little group of followers. Don't encourage him. Geez.

No Man Is An Island

I don’t write in this venue as often as I used to write. I don’t know why not. Much is happening in life and living, and I often find myself as somewhat of an observer of my own life and reality, wondering why this is happening or marveling at that happening. I try, I think, to keep a “low profile” and not cause too much of a ruckus in the realities of other people (and myself), but I sometimes have to wonder how successful I am at that.
Have you ever thought just how much influence you have on the realities of others? In the course of everyday life and living, do you have any idea how many people you touch in some way? Do you know even a small part of the situations in which you have changed what someone else was about to say or do by virtue of some interaction you may have had with that person (either direct or indirect)?
Our existences are so intertwined, so co-mingled that it is very difficult to truly be an island. A guy by the name of John Donne, who lived long ago, is thought to have said it first and best: "All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
Of course, Simon and Garfunkel’s “I Am A Rock” says just the opposite; “I am a rock; I am an island, go the refrain.” However, the last two lines of that song are, “And a rock feels no pain; And an island never cries.” We might long and try to be closed off from everyone else, but we also close off our humanity.
The world is full of lonely people, even people who are in the midst of millions of others. We were created for meaningful interaction with both the creation and the humans who inhabit it. We are less than complete when we isolate ourselves, and we are less than human when we isolate others.

We'll Go Back

For Mother’s Day, we went to a Japanese restaurant in East Wichita. We had never been there before, and I wanted to go to a place that wasn’t crowded or noisy. We found this restaurant in a strip mall and went in.
We appeared to be their first customers (they opened at noon). They asked us if we wanted traditional dining or hibachi. I opted for the traditional. As we sat, we received menus. We looked over the menus and discovered that we had no clue what most of the items were. Pat looked at the first page of the menu, not knowing there was a second page, and wondered if she wanted anything at all.
Deciding that I didn’t want the eel entrée or one of the meals that I had not a clue what I was getting, I opted instead for the salmon teriyaki, which I did know, and Pat opted for the chicken teriyaki.
We were pleasantly surprised that the meal was great, the atmosphere was calming, and the presentation was in keeping with the restaurant theme. As garnish, among other things, I had a carrot slice that was carved to look like a crab. Pat had one on her plate that looked like a rooster. The soup was good as was the salad.
By the time we left, there were more people there, but the place was still virtually empty. The only thing I wasn’t sure of was whether there would be a fork available or not. The napkin had only chopsticks rolled up in it. The waiter asked if we wanted forks, however, and we readily agreed.
No hamburgers. No steaks. No baked potatoes. No green beans or corn. We’ll have to go back there again.

A Good Performance

We went out this evening and saw “To Kill A Mockingbird” at the Wichita Community Theater. I must say that I wasn’t really all that enthused about going, as I have trouble hearing in a theater setting. I can hear the noise of the dialog, but many times there is an echo or the actors speak too quickly, or for some other reason I cannot understand what is being said. I am pleased to say that is not the case at this venue.
The theater is housed in what appears to be an old church building in a residential neighborhood in East Wichita. The entire building is probably no more than 3,000 to 4,000 square feet. The stage is actually at and below audience level and is about 30 feet by 20 feet. The audience sits “in the round” and no seat is more than about 25 feet away from the stage.
The performers as well as the director, lighting, props, etc. are all volunteers. Cost is $12 per ticket. Seating is extremely limited. The theater can hold no more than about 110 people.
I was impressed with the acting, the props, the lighting, and in general the whole experience. I’m not a theater critic and don’t pretend to know the nuances of what constitutes a good performance. I do know what I like and I liked this performance.
Awhile back they did “Driving Miss Daisy”. I missed that and am not happy that I didn’t know about it, or would have seen it. There is a comedy playing in June. I’d like to go back.
If you have a chance, take in a performance at the Wichita Community Theater.

The Adventure Continues

Well, I did it. I turned in my resignation a couple of days ago. I am entering a new chapter of life…one without a full time job to identify me. It’s kind of scary, yet at the same time a rather freeing thing. The final day will be June 10. As I hurtle toward that day, I am reminded of times past when uncertainty reigned in my life.
Uncertainty. Now, that’s a rather unsettling word. We humans like to have things under control. We like to know what’s coming around the corner. We have a need to have routine and order in our lives. But when things happen like job changes, moves to a different house, taking in a new family member, or one of hundreds of other scenarios, that word (uncertainty) creeps into our thoughts if not our conversations.
We sometimes lay awake nights in the dark and quiet thinking about the ramifications of it. We ponder it over lunch or a cup of coffee. And we do everything we can to NOT think about it during most of our waking time. Yet there it is, the elephant in the room.
No, I don’t have a job. Yes, we have some money. Yes, we have a plan. No, that plan is not laid out in certainty. Yes, it is subject to change. And no, I really don’t have a plan B. I think we do, however, have a lot of options open to us as we go along.
We’ll see how this all shakes out. We may have to make some lifestyle changes. We may have to change our direction. We may even have to move to a less expensive home. But I am ready for this. I am willing to do what I need to do to make this work.
Oh, I left out one important thing. I believe this change is something that is a God thing in my life. I think He is behind all of this. Now, I may be wrong. I may have let my emotions and selfish desires get a hold on my thought processes and distort my perceptions of what God is and isn’t doing in my life.
But I don’t think so. I’ve been working with this for many months. The culmination came just a couple of days ago when I actually submitted my resignation to my supervisor. This wasn’t a knee-jerk decision. I sought counsel from people whose opinions I value. And I’ve talked with God regarding what I need to do.
So we’ll see in the coming months. As the blog says, “The Adventure Continues”.

What Will You Do?

Tomorrow is Good Friday for the Christian world. My guess is that it’s just another day for the rest of humanity. That’s not a condemnation of that segment of the human race…it’s just the way it is. But for those of us who profess, in some way, Christian beliefs, tomorrow is second only to the Sunday following Good Friday in importance.
You see, all of the Christian faith hinges on the belief that Jesus died a certain death at the hands of the Romans, and by the power of God was resurrected from the grave. Without the death and resurrection of Jesus, who is, we believe, the Christ of God, Christianity would be just another religion.
However, Christianity is singularly unique among the world’s major religions in that its crux is the death and resurrection of a man who is not that only, but also is fully God on earth. Just the thought of the truth of that founding principle is astounding, and to wrap one’s mind around it fully is impossible for the mortal. To truly believe it is indeed an act of faith supported by the evidence of the changed lives of those who personally knew him, the written words of some of those same people along with others of that time attesting to the truth of the claim, the archeology of the Holy Land and key finds, and the simple, yet profound logic of the premise itself.
And the age-old question still must be answered by all who breathe…”What will you do with Jesus?” Will you think him a bald-faced liar who’s claim to be God is a pipe dream? Will you laugh him off as a crazy man who didn’t know what he was saying when he made those claims of divinity? Or will you believe him to be what he says he is?
There are no other options. You cannot state that he was a good man and teacher, but only a human. If you do that, you ignore his bald-faced claims to be divine…good men and good teachers don’t lie. You cannot state that he never existed, because there is too much secular evidence to the contrary. Nor can you truthfully say that he was the greatest perpetrator of fraud of his time. The evidence just won’t allow that.
So where do we go from here? Back to the question. “What will you do with Jesus?” You have to make a decision. Even if you ignore him, you’ve made a decision. I challenge you to look at the evidence. Look at the facts. Make up your own mind as clearly and in as much of an unbiased manner as you can muster. Millions of honest, intelligent people have done just that. And they have found something that for them is their reason for living and their hope for all eternity. What about you?

Today

I’m sitting here at the computer desk on Saturday morning with an empty coffee cup (just a sec…I’m gonna fill it), the washer and dryer going, music from channel 940 on digital cable (Classical Masterpieces) on the stereo (does saying “stereo” date me to the 1960’s?), having cleaned up from last night’s birthday bash for my niece (it really was in pretty good shape…just needed some touching up), and no one on FB or Messenger (at least no one I care to interact with right now).
I sent off an email this morning to my insurance agent asking about the 18% increase in our homeowners insurance and am THINKING about going outside to do some lawn and yard work so desperately needed.
Oh, and I have the ruglets (I don’t know what you call those little carpets in the bathrooms on the floors in front of the toilet/shower) picked up and ready to go in the washer…and am washing the bed linens as well, including the blanket.
Am I a busy boy, or what? Probably more like “or what”. I need to work on my Sunday school lesson for tomorrow and would like to peruse the hardware store for one of those little tillers that are good for small areas. And I’d like to clean out the garage and cut down the dead pampas grass out by the fish pond. Before you say it, I’ll say it; “I’ll let you know how this all works out for me.”
We had some storms rumble by us last night, but they didn’t drop any rain. So I’m also watering part of my yard that looks especially parched. Yes, we have a sprinkler system and yes, it seems to work fine, but I think that area has some very tough soil and it gets dry rather quickly there. I will make adjustments to my sprinklers later on when it’s warmer, because one always gets soaked when doing that.
We’re looking forward to summer and a little slower pace. The wife doesn’t have as much going on in her work and that’s going to be a nice thing. We plan to go to our family reunion in Kentucky this summer and we also plan to help our church teen group with one or possibly two trips to other communities to help with VBS. One will be in Minnesota and the other in Colorado.
All in all, much to look forward to, both today and in the future. God is good. His mercy endures forever.

We Are Who We Are

It’s interesting to me to see the dynamics of families where I work. I know that most families are (and have been) under stress when they arrive and as they work with their loved one who is there for recovery of some kind. Different people tend to deal with that stress in different ways.
Some work very hard, going beyond what is asked of them regarding exercise, strengthening, conditioning, etc. It’s as if they are saying, “If a little does some good, then a lot will do a lot of good.” These people are relatively small in number, however.
Other residents and families are in some kind of denial. They don’t like to (or refuse to) take part in therapies, question why they are there, and generally are uncooperative. What they don’t always realize is that their insurance will not continue to pay for them to be there if they refuse properly-ordered therapies.
Some residents and families are angry at the world. Everyone is out to get them, and they appear to be alone against all odds. These people struggle mightily, and expend a lot of time and energy in behaviors that are unproductive at best.
There are those who are the manipulative ones. They play one staffer against another or one medical provider against another. They stir up other families and residents with half-truths. And they work the system as much and as long as they can.
And then there are those residents and families who take their situation in relative stride. Or at least they appear to do so. They are mostly cooperative, and seldom gripe or complain. These are the compliant ones and usually cause the least issues.
Come to think of it, as I look at the above, that’s a good description of humanity, isn’t it. Whether we’re in a job situation, a medical crisis, have a family problem, or are in some other environment, these emotions and behaviors tend to come forward and have to be dealt with by the others who are involved. And we all at times exhibit these behaviors in some way, shape, or form as we hurtle through life and living.
People are people. Being human is being human. And although some of the behaviors I’ve listed above are not good, and although we constantly try to eliminate these behaviors from our lives, it is comforting in a way to know that the human race is still human…we are who we are.

Time

I seem to have gained, it seems, some followers of the blog. So I’ll just come out and say, “Has it really been two weeks since I’ve written?”
“Well, yes it has,” if I can answer my own question. So here we are two weeks later than before. Spring is definitely in the air; March Madness (basketball) is well under way; I am already behind in my spring yard work; life seems to hurtle ever more quickly down the line of time.
Time.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m at the side of the time stream, looking on as a bystander. Other times, it feels like I’m right in the middle of it and it is carrying me downstream more quickly than I ever wanted to go. And there are a few times when the stream seems to be thick as molasses and I’m stuck in it and can’t get out.
This thing called time is an ever-changing chameleon, never predictable, always going somewhere. It is at once a friend and an enemy. It soothes and gives peace, and it grates and makes life miserable. It is cussed and praised. It is real, yet not tangible. We don’t know what it is or how it works, but we live with it, see the results of it, and keep track of it with clocks and watches.
Einstein proved that time is (or appears to be) a variable. He also showed that we should think of space-time…not space and time. Yet we calculate to the nth degree the span of a second.
We compensate for variations in the span of time in our satellite communications networks (GPS, for one). Yet we all age at the same rate and are all similarly affected by the passage of time.
We don’t know the future, try to forget the past, and don’t appreciate enough the present. We waste time, kill time, pass time, and mark time. We all have the same amount of time in a day. Yet some of us are much more productive than others of us and some of us seem to have an endless source of time to accomplish what others could only imagine.

It’s a great gift, this gift of time.

Carry Yourself Back

I don’t know about you, but there are certain sounds and songs that bring various memories and incidents to my mind. I think most people react this way to, say, a love song or the song of a certain species of bird, etc. Then there are songs that tend to take one way back to simpler times in childhood.
One such song for me is the Captain Kangaroo theme song. As many of you know, Captain Kangaroo was a children’s show that ran on CBS for many, many years in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s. I don’t know how long…you can Google it if you like.
The Captain was always polite…always entertaining…always even somewhat predictable. He taught manners and proper behavior and enlightened us with various animals, special guests, and by other means. His Treasure House was filled with wonderful, wondrous things, both living and inanimate. Bunny Rabbit, Mr. Moose, Dancing Bear, Grandfather Clock (To wake Grandfather Clock, he would always say, “On the count of three, I want you to say ‘Grandfather’, but say it softly so as not to startle him.”), Mr. Green Jeans, Dennis, Tom Terrific, and many others.
The theme music for the show, if you recall, always played when the house keys were off of the hook, and stopped when the keys were put back on the hook. Most of the time, one heard only a portion of the theme music, but once in a while, for some reason, much of the theme was allowed to play.
I recently found the theme as I remember it on the show. The song is entitled “Puffin’ Billy” and can be found at http://www.gocek.org/sounds/captain-kangaroo.mp3
Go ahead and take a listen. Carry yourself back to the simpler time.

Mish Mash

I think I saw a "first" today. Our guest speaker at church used an electronic gadget (I don't know what it was) to store and retrieve his lesson notes. Instead of shuffling cards or papers, he poked on the screen from time to time to bring up new pages. I wonder how much longer it will be until I have something like that for the lessons I teach.
Other things I've recently seen/heard/found out:
The downtown Topeka business district has many closed storefronts. I don't know if it was the recent recession or not, but Kansas Avenue between 5th Street and 10th Street has probably 20 or more storefronts that are empty. It makes the downtown area rather dreary compared to what it was a few years ago.
On a related note...the restaurant that was on 6th Street downtown also has closed. That's the place I talked about in one of my earlier blogs...http://hubblefan.blogspot.com/2006/06/downtowner.html That's kind of a sad thing. I had wanted to eat there yesterday while we were in town.
I did eat at the Hanover Pancake House on Kansas Avenue. It's been there for years. I ordered bacon and three eggs with pancakes. Oh, my goodness! Four large slices of bacon, three eggs cooked in butter over medium well, hashbrowns also fried in butter that were crispy just right, and two of the largest pancakes, yet so very good pancakes with warm syrup and more butter. It was every breakfast junkie's dream.
There is value in bookstores one can go into and touch the merchandise. Online is fine, but sometimes I need to peruse a book before buying. I'm glad the Christan bookstore in West Topeka is still open. Got a Joshua commentary there that I can use in my next adult class.
The Topeka library has restricted computer access to patrons with library cards. So much for being able to stop there and check email, etc. Non card-holders can still peruse periodicals, though, and they have IRS forms and booklets there yet.
I wonder how many toll roads and turnpikes have an exit called "cattle pens". The Kansas Turnpike does. And the exit is exactly what it says it is, in the middle of the Flint Hills. If you Google "cattle pens kansas" you'll find three or four short articles about that exit and the pronghorn antelope heard that is being re-introduced into that area. Makes a good short read.
The Supreme Court upheld freedom of speech this past week. You know the group, which hails from Topeka. For what it's worth, that decision was a foregone (and correct) decision. I don't like their speech any more than you do. But I want that freedom there, intact, when I have something to say that someone else doesn't like. If they are ignored long enough, they'll go away. Really.
A good friend and former co-worker passed away suddenly yesterday. Makes one aware that no one knows "the time".

Potpourri

I'm not sure how March is supposed to look, but March 2011 looks great, at least the first day of it. Warm, gentle breeze, sunny, puffy clouds...it has the feel of a perfect day. There's a gorgeous sunset going on outside as I type this and the day is about the best that it can possibly be.
I'm sure it won't always be this way. March is also the beginning of severe weather season in our neck of the woods. We've already had a round of thunder boomers a few days ago, and over the next three or four months, we'll experience more of the same.
There will be wind. There will be rain. There will be hail. There will be tornadoes. That's part of living in this part of the world. And it makes things interesting, to say the least. I don't necessarily like the severe weather, but I do like to hear the thunder, see and hear the rain, and enjoy the cleansing of the earth and atmosphere.
I am also looking forward to see how the year 2011 turns out. There are several things going on in our family, our church, and in work that will have some sort of resolution or advancement. And, of course, there will be new ideas, new thoughts, and new things coming along in life.
I know I'm getting older, but I continue to enjoy seeing some things in new and different ways. I hope that doesn't change as I continue to age for as long as the Good Lord allows.
We are richly blessed in life. God has provided us with an existence that 98 percent of the world's population can only dream about. Along with that comes a responsibility to partner with God where He is working. And that is where life's real challenges, joys, and satisfactions come. There's nothing quite like being the instrument of the God of the universe and seeing how He uses one's efforts in His work of redemption.
Thank you for your continued participation in my writing. I know I've slowed down some, and I know blogs can be rather passe, but I plan to continue with this for the time being. So check in from time to time and we'll continue down life's path together.

One Perspective

I wrote a letter to my state senator and emailed it last night. It says a lot about what I don't like about the political system...the deception and outright falsehoods. I thought I'd let you read what I wrote. The liquor issue is only a vehicle for me to tell the senator that I don't appreciate being misled...in the end, I don't care who sells strong liquor.

Sent: Tuesday, February 22, 2011 10:58 PM
To: Dick Kelsey
Subject: Liquor Debate

Dear Senator Kelsey,

I am interested in the ongoing debate over allowing grocery and convenience stores to sell "strong" beer, wine, etc. The prevailing statistics for those wanting the change come from a study done by Arthur P. Hall, PhD, of the University of Kansas School of Business. Those statistics, as you well know, show an economic impact of more than 15,000 new jobs and 340 million dollars created in the state.
I have wondered for as long as I've been aware of this debate just where that money is coming from and how those jobs would be funded. It would seem to me that there would need to be increased liquor sales sufficient to generate at least 340 million dollars in new cash in the state.
Silly me. The report does not talk of generating new cash or creating new wealth. In fact, the summary clearly says that there will not necessarily be any creation of wealth...only the redistribution of existing resources. I quote the summary: "There is no evidence to suggest that deregulation of beer, wine and spirits sales will change prevailing alcohol consumption patterns, only shopping patterns."
In other words, consumption will not necessarily increase...meaning no new wealth is created. However, the places where people spend their existing money will change. How that will result in 15,000 new jobs and creation of a third of a billion dollars in wealth is far beyond me. Where is that money coming from? Where was it before the new law? Where is it after the new law? Where is that money going? To out of state corporations (Kroger [Ohio], Quik Trip [Oklahoma])?
According to USDA statistics (http://www.agcensus.usda.gov/Publications/2007/Full_Report/Volume_1,_Chapter_2_County_Level/Kansas/st20_2_001_001.pdf), in 2007 only 8 counties in Kansas had total gross farm commodity sales greater than the 340 million dollar number being used by the pro grocery/convenience liquor sales folks. Does it make sense to you, Senator, that this change in the law will bring in more money than the total gross farm commodity sales of 97 of our 105 counties in 2007? It doesn't make sense to me, either.
Someone, it seems, is playing fast and loose with the numbers. It matters not to me who sells what strength liquor. What does matter to me is that it appears that we are being misled and deceived. I'm tired of that kind of politics. I hope you are as well.

Thanks much for listening,

The good senator responded promptly, which I've always appreciated. He "got" my point. He wrote, "I agree with your perspective. I do not believe this bill will move forward or be approved by the Senate or House."

Senator Dick Kelsey

Nothing Short of Astounding

Today I got up early and went in to work. I said that I would do an early transport. I needed to take a resident to a surgical center for a minor procedure. Foggy as all get out, I made my way to the home and got the van started. I loaded the woman in it, grabbed the paperwork, and headed out.
Almost missing the turn in the thick fog, I did manage to find the place after all. I was told that the woman’s daughter in law would meet us there to sign papers, etc. However, when we arrived, she was nowhere to be found. The staff was getting a little antsy, so I called the nurses station at the home and asked for the phone number of the daughter in law. They gave me a local, Wichita number.
I called that number on my cell. The ring sounded a little funny to me. After about four rings, a man answered the phone and identified himself as the son of the woman I had at the surgical center. I asked him if he or his wife were about at the surgery center so they could sign papers, thinking that the foggy weather may have caused them to be late.
He said he was nowhere close to the center and couldn’t help me. “I’m in the U K,” he said. Of course, he meant that he was in Great Britain. Hence the funny-sounding ring.
I processed that information as quickly as my too-early-to-get-up brain could, and while I was speechlessly processing, I managed to ask him if I could get his wife’s phone number and call her to ask where she might be. He said he would call her for me, and let me know what was going on.
A couple of minutes later, my phone rang. It was him. He said she was late, but would be there in a few minutes. I thanked him profusely and we hung up. She indeed showed up a few minutes later.
Now, you may ask me why I’m writing this. I’ve blogged about telephones and technology before. I grew up in the era of dialing “0” and getting a local operator in the same community as where I was living and having her make a long distance call for me. Sometimes we had the phone number…sometimes we only had a name and city. And the cost of the call was enough that we watched the minutes on a clock and didn’t talk too long. Local numbers were only four digits in length. Party lines were commmonplace. Area codes were not invented yet (nor were zip codes).
This is pure magic to me…this idea that I can have a dial tone on my hip, access it, dial a local number, and find that other telephone across an ocean in a foreign country. I can ring that phone and carry on a conversation with that person. And he can do the same with me. Do you have a clue of the technology and gee-whiz gadgets that must all work just right in order for this to happen? It’s nothing short of an incredible, astounding feat.
I normally don’t need international calling. But I have a newly-found appreciation for the fee I pay each month to help maintain this technological marvel we call the telephone. I know I gripe and complain when it drops calls or I’m in a dead zone. And that, I think, is something that needs to be addressed. “We can go to the moon…why can’t I have a phone conversation without it dropping my call?”
Next time you use your phone to talk, text, tweet, or browse, appreciate what you are holding in hour hand. I will.

This & That

These last few weeks have been kind of a blur. The cold weather, the snow, the work, and the fact that it’s January and February all kind of combine to make this a time when people just hold on and hope better days come soon. And they will come. It will get warm. We will begin to have thunderstorms and severe weather. Things outside will green up. The earth will come to life again.
Meanwhile, what’s up? Oh, no, I shouldn’t be asking you that question. This is where I tell you what’s up with me. Of course, I assume you have at least some passing interest in knowing what’s up with me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be on this web page, now, would you?
I find myself settling deeper and deeper into a kind of rut. That can be good, because I don’t have to worry too much about what to do. But it can also be kind of a bummer since I don’t have a lot of choice or change in what I do.
This has been a winter of, for lack of a better term, reflection. I’ve done a lot of thinking this winter, and am still in that process. Thinking about work, about life, about eternity, and about the future all have occupied my time lately. I’ve not arrived at any stupendous answers or marvelous insights…I didn’t expect to do so.
But I do expect to untangle, at least partially, some of the web of thought that I’ve allowed to interweave over the past few years. I don’t know how to explain it any better than that. I just sometimes feel like there are thoughts and ideas up there (or in there) that are all tangled up and need to be unwound, untangled, and brought out into the light of day. Does that make any sense to you? It does to me.
Thanks for taking the time to listen.

Happy Birthday

I wrote a letter today. No, I didn’t do it long hand, although I thought about it. My hands are beginning to be affected by arthritis and I just can’t hold a pen like I used to be able to do. So I typed it. I wrote the letter to my uncle who will be 92 on Tuesday. He enjoys receiving letters and, at least until recently, wrote in long hand and mailed letters to friends and relatives.
He doesn’t do Facebook or Twitter, and isn’t even on the Internet, as far as I know. He lives in a retirement community in central Kansas and seems to enjoy being there. Age has crept up on him and he isn’t as spry as he once was. Recently moved into assisted living, he kept up an apartment there until just a year or two ago.
Just because Mervin isn’t on the Internet, though, doesn’t mean that he is somehow not relevant or “with it” (to borrow a 1960’s expression) any more. I suspect that he is very much in tune with the goings-on of the retirement community where he lives as well as the greater community (the town) and with the world. He is able to talk intelligently about a lot of things including current events and current happenings. He is a joy to visit with and always appreciates company.
I also suspect that Mervin is just biding his time here and is ready to go whenever he is called by his God. His wife (my aunt) preceded him, having been ravaged by dementia for the last years of her life. I rather imagine he’s ready to have a good conversation with her once again.
Mervin has, and continues to be a shining example of Christian faith, love, and compassion. He has influenced for the good more lives than he will ever know or realize on this side of eternity. A farmer by vocation, he also drove a school bus, taught Sunday School, raised a family, volunteered for countless good works, and did some taxidermy. In addition, he did all of the normal things that good citizens do…pay taxes, work hard, and give back to his family, his neighbors and his community.
He would be the first to tell you that he never did anything special; that he just did the best he could with what he knew. But his is a great example of God taking what Mervin offered and multiplying it in ways unimaginable, even now. His influence, wisdom, work, and example will live on far beyond his earthly years.
Happy birthday, Mervin.

Here's to Diversity

"This is America, where a white Catholic male Republican judge was murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20-year old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean-American combat surgeon, all eulogized by our African American President." ~Mark Shields, quoting Allen Ginsberg on PBS News Hour January 14, 2011
Lynn said that a blog might be coming on as a result of my having read this on her FB. It took a few days for me to process the above and its significance. I don’t pretend to write the definitive prose regarding the quote. I will, however, comment on it.
As I commented on FB, I think this is often the case in our everyday lives and we just don’t realize or appreciate it. Think of the people that serve you in some capacity. Those who work in a restaurant, the doctor’s office or dental clinic. Maybe you could think of those who provide you with food stocked on the shelves of your favorite grocery store as well as those who grow and process it.
What about those in the banking system or the mechanic shop where you get your car fixed? Or maybe in City Hall and those who provide decent water, sewer services, and of course police, fire, and EMS protection.
This nation is still built on the diversity of its population and the fact that, by and large, people work together for a common good and for the welfare of others. Whatever their religion, nationality, race, or political leaning, most people desire only to do their job and make the world a better place.
Look at it this way. Think of a world where you interacted with and were economically and environmentally connected only with people who were your own race, nationality, religion and color. What would you NOT have that you now have? Could you live even close to how you are living now were it not for people who are different from you who provide for you in some way? Could you adequately do your job without people who were different from you?
Pure Christianity is much the same way. People from all walks of life, from all nationalities, economic classes, races, and yes, even people with different religious viewpoints all band together under the banner of Jesus Christ as risen Lord and Savior and together make something that as a whole is much, much greater than the sum of its parts.
I am reminded of what John said in the Revelation: “After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could count, from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes…” (Rev. 7:9) You may disagree with me on the specific interpretation of this verse, but I think it’s clearly apparent that not everyone who is a child of God is a white, middle class male (or whatever you may be).
So here’s to diversity. May it ever be a part of who we are and how we think. May it always come through in times both good and bad. And may we ever celebrate the beauty and diversity of God’s creation and honor both it and Him.

Success

This past week, one of the residents of our adult care home passed away. Gina (not her real name) had many serious medical issues. Her stage four metestatic cancer was one of the lesser of her issues. We brought her in for rehab about three months ago in the hopes that she would become strong enough to weather a round of chemo and radiation, but in spite of all of our, and her efforts, that didn't happen.
She had no family that I know of. She did have a friend who was her power of attorney and handled her affairs. She was bed-bound for most of her stay with us due to other medical issues, but managed to be in a chair and get out of her room for the last couple of weeks before she passed.
This woman had lots to complain about. She had lots to be angry about. And she had lots to attribute to an unfair deal. But I never, ever, ever saw her that way. She was always pleasant, positive, and upbeat, at least on the outside. She conversed readily and seemed to be genuinely interested in the problems of others.
I don't know her religious background or her life history. But one thing I do know is that she had every right to be mad at the world and at life for the hand that was dealt to her. She chose to not play that hand; rather, to make that hand into something that was decent and honorable and good.
She succeeded.

Riverside

I got off work early today (very early) before lunch, so I went over to the Minisa Barbershop and got a haircut (actually, hairs-cut). It was close to lunch by then so I walked around the corner to the Riverside Café.
They weren’t all that busy, but busy enough. No one was at the counter, so I sat at the second chair from the left (There is a “protocol” for where to sit at a lunch counter, just as there is a “protocol” for which urinal to use when in a multi-urinal bathroom). The waitress was prompt, giving me water and asking for my drink order. By the time she had my diet Coke, I knew I wanted the catfish filet lunch.
Now, I’ve blogged before about the Riverside Café. Today, I noticed especially the way the wait people worked. They moved quickly, yet there was virtually no wasted motion or step. Each movement seemed to be an exercise in multi-tasking, planned out long in advance.
Of course, it wasn’t planned out. The wait staff just had worked there long enough to know how to work efficiently. They also were able to work around each other, not running in to someone else. There was only one slip up…a loud noise in the kitchen and shards of glass sliding out of the doorway told me that someone had dropped something back there. Luckily, I already had my lunch in front of me.
I have to wonder what that place sounds like in the middle of the night. By day it’s very noisy, almost raucous. The old-time juke box is constantly blaring with 50’s and 60’s music. The wait people are talking to each other and greeting customers. Customers are carrying on conversations with one-another, and occasionally from table to table. Dishes are clanging. Doors are closing. The cash register is ringing up something. The din is sometimes in the upper end of the decibel scale, it seems. So at night, it would be eerily silent, except for the refrigeration units and occasionally the furnace, I would think. Hopefully, there aren’t many mice in there that would make noise.
I don’t get over there often. I’m glad I stopped in today.

Can You Imagine?

In the spiritual, “Ain’t Got Time to Die”, the song talks of serving God and praising God through service to our fellow-man...helping the sick, feeding the poor, serving the Master.
Then the song says this: “If I don’t praise Him, the rocks are gonter (going to) cry out, ‘Glory and Honor!’ ‘Glory and Honor!’ Ain’t got time to die!”
I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of a literalist. And I may well not be understanding this song the way those who created it meant it to be. But I believe, really believe, that some how, some way, God will be given glory and honor; whether by my praise of Him or whether the rocks themselves will be called to cry out praise to God.
I can’t imagine answering to God for why the rocks had to cry out because I didn’t give Him praise. Can you?

Arizona Tragedy

I wasn’t able to hear the President’s address to the people last night in Arizona. I called it up on the Internet tonight and listened to the entire speech. This may have been his best speech. Twice, he invoked the Christian scriptures. Several times, he mentioned those who had died in the shooting tragedy. And he continually called for us to present the best that is within us, to love one-another, and to honor those with whom we differ.
He did all of this without getting caught in the notion that somehow those whose words recently have been filled with vitriol prompted this tragedy. He plainly took the high road and challenged each of us to do the same.
I had to wonder as I listened to that speech whether anything even close to the thoughts that were in that speech has come out of the mouths of those radio and cable hacks on either end of the political spectrum. You know…those who spew their garbage to the ones of our number who don’t wish to exercise their brains by thinking for themselves. They’d much rather a talking head do their talking for them. My guess is that no one of the political/cable/radio hack club has said anything even remotely close to the thoughts and words of our President.
I am truly troubled by the events in Arizona. I am truly troubled by the evil that is in the world. And I am truly troubled by those who would, for their own gain, capitalize on such an event. I guess it takes all kinds, but this is not only ridiculous, but is behavior of the basest sort.
Even the Topeka church clan stayed away (You know who I’m talking about). I applaud them for their restraint, although I suspect that there wasn’t much about their decision not to picket that was altruistic or compassionate. My guess is that they (correctly) figured that if they went and protested, they would have been universally assigned, even by those few who agree with them, to the trash heap of irrelevance, insignificance, and worthlessness. They would finally, fully, and certainly have been exposed for the kind of people they really are…uncouth, vulgar, and gauche. They don’t have the stomach to stand up to that kind of universal judgment and condemnation from their peers.
I wish well those who are recovering. I pray healing for those who have lost loved ones. And I trust we will have learned something positive from the evil that manifested on that day.

Crack of Doom

I’m staying up late tonight. We have a resident who is receiving a blood transfusion at a local hospital this evening. When they are finishing, they will call and I will take the home’s transportation van there and pick her up and take her back to the home. She went in about 4pm today. It takes several hours to infuse blood products, and if there are any glitches, it takes even longer.
I’ve done this a few times before, but never quite this late. My guess is that I won’t get to bed until after midnight. That always seems to befuddle me some the next day. I’m never quite rested, it seems, and don’t feel “normal” (whatever that is nowadays).
Normally my bedtime is about 10:30. I know that seems early for many of you, and it may be late for some who have to get up (as my cousin used to say) “at the crack of doom.” I always liked that better than the “crack of dawn.” Gave it a little more class, in my book.
Hopefully, they will call shortly and I can begin the trip. If not, I may be up later tonight than I thought.

Back to Work

Tomorrow, I go back to work. I’ve been off since Friday afternoon a week ago. I think I’m ready to go. Hopefully, my mental and emotional condition will allow me to go back to work with joy and purpose, even in the face of things at work that aren’t always the way (I think) they should be.
Of course, no work place is perfect. Everyone who interacts with the outside world in any form has to work with imperfection, incompetence, and sometimes sheer stupidity from time to time. The question is not whether one will encounter these things (the Dilbert syndrome), but rather how one responds to these things.
The Dilbert syndrome is alive and well, no doubt. Things happen that shouldn’t; people make bad decisions; words are spoken that are better left unsaid. Sometimes one has to take a breather from that environment to see the larger picture and the true blessings that are a part of life, living, and yes, work.
And the key that I’ve yet to learn is this: Do I trust that God will take me where I need to go, even though I may have no control over where that is or don’t have a clue where we’re going? He still says to me, “Do you trust me?” I’m not sure I have the answer yet.
I’ve written each day this week I’ve been off. I’ve opened my heart at times, and let you know what was inside. I don’t mind doing that in this venue, and trust that you will understand.
For those of you who know me, thank you for your love and prayers. For those who may read this who don’t know me, thank you for stopping by. I am wonderfully, wonderfully blessed.

A Challlenge

I’m sure I’m not the first one who has thought of this, but it came as a kind of an epiphany to me this week as I did some meditation and study during my time at home on a staycation. I blogged about it earlier this week. The thought was that perhaps someone, sometime in the distant past has prayed for me in some way and God is now fulfilling that prayer request in my life. The person who prayed may well never have known me or about me, but prayed anyway. The thought that what God is doing with me now may well be a promise God made in answer to prayer that may have occurred 100, 200, or 500 years ago is mind-boggling.
I then asked in that same blog if you have prayed for those who come after you, whether your blood descendents, fellow Christians, or leaders of some kind. That seems to me to be even more mind-boggling as I think of those possibilities and what it may mean for not only me, but for those for whom I am praying.
We seem so focused on the here and now. We seem to be so tuned in to our own lives and our immediate issues and problems. We think little about others even in our time frame, let alone those who will come after us 50, 100,or 500 years from now. It makes me think differently about prayer and how it “availeth much” as the King James Version of the Bible says in the New Testament book of James.
Some how, some way, I have to get out of the present time and the momentary problems I have now and focus more on others, their issues, and the greater vision of God’s plan for His creation and for its salvation. This kind of prayer may well be one of the keys to help me do that.
This also brings to mind my brother’s thoughts about praying for things that in our existence have already happened. It tends to lend a new credibility to his thought that maybe, just maybe it is acceptable to pray for something that has already happened, as if it hasn’t happened yet. He tempers this thought with the idea that in order for this to be effective, we must not know the conclusion of the event or incident…it is enough to know that something was to have happened or might have happened.
Of course, we quickly get into the notion of time and what it is; how it interacts with our existence and how God relates to time, if at all. We quickly develop many more questions than we have answers for, Einstein’s equations notwithstanding. And we can quickly get caught up in the nuances of such ideas to the exclusion of our mission as people of God…to live and love in such a way that others will know that we are children of God.
I challenge you, though, to give serious thought to who and what you pray for, and to use prayer not so much as a vehicle for your own comfort and satisfaction as a means to talk with the Timeless One about your thoughts, feelings, and concerns for others yet to come (or who have already gone, if you think there may be something to the notion of “praying in the past”). If nothing else, I think you will appreciate and enjoy your prayer life much more than you now do.

A Need to Start

Today marks, for those of us who are bound by time, the end of yet another year. I think I say something like this just about every time I write on the last day of the year. It is remarkable, however, to think that we have actually arrived at this point in the continuum that is the life of the universe.
If you have some age on you, can you remember what you thought life would be like now when you were but a youngster? I remember trying to visualize the turn of the century and beyond when I was a kid in the 1950’s and later a teen in the 1960’s. Science magazines and articles helped that thinking by talking of levitating automobiles, space colonies on Mars and beyond, and pills one could take which would provide all needed nutrition for the day.
The Apollo space program sort of pushed that thinking along with its can-do attitude and whiz-bang technical prowess. Movies (1984 and others) carried our thoughts (and fears) even farther down the path of the future.
So where are we compared with where we thought we were? In some respects, we are much farther than we ever thought possible. In others, it’s the same song, 145th verse. JFK rolled out the first 100 billion dollar federal budget for 1962, and LBJ imposed a 10% income tax surtax to help pay for the Vietnam War. Now look at where we are.
On the other hand, who would have thought that we have more computing power in our telephones than IBM had in all of its research and development centers back in those days? And who would have thought about that phone being attached to our hips and that it could literally access the world through the Internet?
But where are we in the things that really matter? Doing unto others as we would have them do unto us? Bearing one another’s burdens? Helping those in need? Loving God with all of our hearts? Have we learned anything in the last 40 or so years? Have we matured and grown? Have we come to realize our responsibilities as human beings?
Don’t generalize these questions for the nation as a whole or the world as a whole. Make them personal. You can’t change the world, but you can change yourself. And that’s where I need to start.

Day Trip

This afternoon we got in the trusty Buick and took a three hour or so trip down some back roads and past some places I hadn’t seen for awhile. Leaving Wichita on K 42, I turned west on 71st Street South and went all the way over to Kingman County. On the way, I stopped and checked the moisture level (scientifically, of course…I dug down a few inches with the heel of my shoe!) in a wheat field. That particular place was damp enough 3 to 4 inches down that the dirt could be mad into a ball and would hold together.
We went on to Norwich over the county roads and drove in town a few minutes. We talked a little about the church where I preached some in the 1980’s, and the nursing home building that didn’t make it as a nursing home, but now is, we think, a place for troubled girls. There was no sign out front, so we don’t know for sure.
Going west on 42, we passed through what is left of Adams (look that one up on your Google maps) and turned south on Murdock Road. Coming to the Harper County line road, we turned west again and went to Duquoin.
The little church there seems to be kept up, although I haven’t a clue if anyone is meeting there or not. There isn’t much else. I remember a small strip of old buildings on one street from my youth. Those buildings are no longer there.
We went west on what the locals sometimes call Ridge Road (not to be confused with the Ridge Road in Sedgwick County) until we got to the Attica turn off. We went down to Attica and drove around there some, commenting on the health center and a couple of other places we saw.
We then ventured eastward toward Crystal Springs. We stopped at the church there and used the restrooms (the building is always unlocked), and I did some walking in the cemetery. There were a lot of people and names in there that I knew. I remember thinking that the people in this area, and those in the cemetery, are and were good, solid people with traditional values, good work ethic, and a way of life that many people secretly covet, yet are not willing to make the changes necessary to experience it. Some of those changes would have to be the giving up of high-salary jobs, relocation to a rural area, taking on work that could well be hard, physical labor, displaying the virtues of honesty, trust, and friendliness, and willingness to do without Wal Mart, the Mall, the Warren Theater, and Old Town. To me, the fact of the unlocked door on a church on a dirt road across from a pasture in virtually the middle of nowhere is a huge indication of the kind of people who live, love, work, and die there.
From there we went to Harper and saw the new school construction, the new hospital addition, and noticed that some businesses and the library moved. We stopped in at a downtown business (one of just a few left downtown) and talked with Ron for a bit.
Getting gas, we headed back to Wichita and the civilization that we now know. Somehow, though, even though we no longer own any property in that area, and even though we have no close relatives in that area, I felt like some of me is still there. Although I have no plans to ever move back, there is admittedly a certain draw to what for years has been home. I’m not sure that feeling will ever quite go away. Nor am I sure I want it to.

Strangely Comforting

There is something strangely comforting about the last two chapters of Joshua. As I read those chapters, I wondered again about Israel and their propensity to fall into idolatry. I wondered why, when they had experienced the majestic power of God in so many diverse ways, and experienced the good life that God had given them in the promised land, that they worshipped articles of metal and stone.
But given all of that, God was faithful to them. He kept all of his promises…even the ones regarding punishment for idolatry. Not only that, but God continued to love them as a father loves a son or daughter. He continued to work with them…to counsel them…to foster a sweet relationship with them.
Yes, he said on more than one occasion that they wearied him, or that he was through with them, or would no longer save them. But that didn’t mean that he no longer loved them or no longer was concerned about them.
We have, I think, a warped sense of what love is. We try very hard to please, mistaking that for love. We become enablers of bad behavior. We don’t allow the natural consequences of behavior to do what they were intended to do…teach and admonish. Then we wonder what is wrong with us, with others, with the world.
God must be rather put off with how we have perverted his notion of love and have made it something that is cheap, selfish, and self-destructive. Yet he continues to love us just as he did Israel when they sinned. He continues to work with us, counsel us, and foster a sweet relationship with us.
There’s something strangely comforting in that.

Promises Kept

As I read through the middle part of Joshua, where the conquered land was divided among the tribes of Israel, I am struck by the detail and preciseness of the descriptions of the borders of each tribe. The descriptions are not at all generalized, but refer to specific cities, landmarks, and places where the border could easily be found.
It’s not an easy read. The names of the cities and landmarks have been translated into English from Hebrew. And although many of the names probably have some kind of meaning attached to them, I haven’t a clue what that might be and so don’t relate well to the names.
But it’s worth it to work through those middle chapters. The writer and compiler(s) thought it important to outline very specifically what the borders were for each tribe, which cities were given to the Levites, and which cities became cities of refuge. The fact that these writings are included in the Jewish canon, and by extension the Christian canon, causes us to stop and think about the relevance of these chapters to us. We did not inherit any of the land. The names have little meaning to us. What could possibly be so important to Christians in these several chapters?
The beginning of this saga rested with Abraham and God’s promise to him that his descendants would be blessed and that they would be given “the promised land”. We fast-forward several hundred years to the time of Joshua and see that indeed those promises of God were kept, and we see in great detail the evidence of the keeping of those promises. In fact, Joshua himself says in his farewell speech to the people that “Not one of the good promises of God has failed.” They all have been fulfilled.
Therein, I think, is a lesson for us. Every single word in those chapters screams to anyone who will listen the promise-keeping nature of Jehovah. Every detailed description, every boundary description, every city name tell of the provision of the God of the universe for His people. It becomes personal when land boundaries are described. It becomes intimate when specific cities are named and when specific families are given specific places in fulfillment of promises made long ago to an ancestor.
Stay with me here. How do we know but what some portion of our lives right here, right now, are the fulfillment of a promise God made to one of our ancestors? How do we know but what one of our great-great-grandparents (or some such ancestor) prayed for us and that God has honored (and is honoring) that prayer in our lives right now? I know that the descendants of Abraham knew well the promises Jehovah made to their father Abraham. We don’t know who has prayed for us in the past, or present, or even the future (time is irrelevant to God) and has “availeth much” according to James in the New Testament.
Have you seriously considered praying for your descendants? Have you asked God to intervene in the lives of those to come after us so that they may live in peace and follow the way of God fully? I admit that I have never thought of such a thing, although I’ve done plenty of thinking and even some mild worrying about my children, grandchildren, and those who will come after them. Why not give those thoughts and worries to the One who will be there and can (and will) fulfill the fervent prayers of an ancestor.

"There's a Stirring"

God, you’ve not promised us a life of ease. You have made it such that we can be content, however. Our work may be difficult. Our lives may not be easy. We may (and do) have what seem to be roadblocks in our way. You, though, make us successful if we persevere, are diligent, develop resolve, display patience, practice industriousness, and maintain tenacity. And you make our service joyful and satisfying.
Israel’s conquest of the promised land was a long, hard row to hoe. Although it’s covered in just a few chapters in Joshua, it took several years, much planning, hard fighting, and a lot of work.
“Do not fear. I will give them into your hand.” So says the One who is the same today as He was then, and forever will be. He was also up front with them and told them that they would not cleanse the land quickly…that it would take time and effort.
Living life takes time and effort. Things won’t come quickly, easily, or without difficulty. Perseverance, diligence, resolve, patience, industriousness, and tenacity are words easier written than done. Israel was not always patient. Israel was not always diligent. Israel did not always persevere. And they ended up paying the price…and did not receive the full measure of the promise of God.
I believe I am being called to continue my service, but in a different venue, on a different stage. How do I know that call is real, and not my longstanding impatience and desire for the greener grass I see on the other side? How do I know I’m not taking a shortcut and trying once again to make things work out the way I want them to work out? How do I know but what I am to continue in the service I am now in?
And how do I know but what I have been brought to this place (to quote Mordecai in the Book of Esther) “for such a time as this”? Why do I feel guilty about the prospect of service that is joyful and satisfying? What is it about my current service that is neither joyful nor satisfying? Shouldn’t I be content with what I am doing?
Borrowing a couple of lines from a song I know, I feel exactly like it says when it comes to my service as a Christian (I know the theme of the song is different). “There’s a stirring deep within me. Could it be my time has come? Is He calling me? Is He calling me?”

When the Night is Falling

God, you were right there with Joshua and all of Israel as they crossed the Jordan and conquered the land you promised to give them. Even though they told Joshua that you were his God (and by implication not theirs), you were faithful and saw them through to the end.
You then remained with the nation through their many ups and downs…through the period of the judges, the kings, the captivity…until the Offspring of David came and fulfilled your plan.
You weren’t distant. You weren’t aloof. You weren’t uncaring. You weren’t nonchalant. You were intimately involved with the everyday life of each individual, each family, each tribe, and the nation. You completed (or perfected) that intimate involvement with the advent of the Eternal Son on earth.
And that involvement didn't stop there.
So why would I think of you any differently when it comes to your relationship with me? Sometimes (actually, more than sometimes…often) I think you are distant. Aloof. Uncaring. Nonchalant. Sometimes (Often) I think you watch from a distance, and that you have more important things to do than work with me and be concerned about the things I’m concerned about.
Am I being selfish to want you for myself? Is it only a human thing to want a father to revel in his children? Should I be willing to “share” you, even if it means that I feel left out? Is there really enough of you to go around?
Then you put to my thoughts the song “When the Night is Falling”. Oh if I could only make the words live and not just be words on a screen.

Listen on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKSyFOsAp6c&playnext=1&list=PL95C856F854F05B52&index=34

When the night is falling,
And the day is done,
I can hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me.
When the night surrounds me,
All my dreams undone,
I can hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me.
When the night would hide my way,
I will listen until I hear You say…
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
When this life is over,
And the race is run,
I will hear You calling, “Come.”
I will come while You sing over me,
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you, child, I love you.
How I love you.
–Dennis Jernigan

Remembering the Choirs

I get a little teary-eyed at times, especially this time of year. Oh, there are several things that can set me off; one of them especially. Tonight, I turned on the public station and they had some “long-haired” Christmas music being performed by an orchestra and chorus. They were singing some of the more conventional songs. Among them were the Hallelujah Chorus and O Holy Night.
I used to sing in a choir that met beginning in September and performed a Christmas concert for the community. I also sang in choirs in high school many years ago. We performed many of these “warhorse” pieces, and some others that are lesser known.
I always recall with fondness my participation in those choirs and the joy I had singing some of these songs along with others. We didn’t sound as good as the professionals, but we did our best, and did a pretty good job overall. I even recall my bass part on many of the songs and sing along at times with the pros.
My voice isn’t what it used to be, and I don’t know if I would even qualify for a choir spot, even if it was a smaller community choir. Many people can sing better than I can, and I know that. But it was always a thrill to work with and then perform music such as O Holy Night or some other piece like it, and I relish the memories of those times.
I don’t know what you have been part of over the years that you enjoy recalling, but I hope that you have the same kinds of memories you can tap at times. These tend to keep one grounded and provide perspective and experience. And those things aid us as we tumble through the present tense and these uncertain times.
May the Holy Night and the peace that comes from knowing the Eternal Son and the love of the Father abide with you this holiday season.

Doesn't Make Sense

The last couple of evenings when I came home from work, I noticed the neighbor kids a couple of doors down outside, playing. Monday, they were in back playing on their rope swing they have in a large tree at the edge of the park. They were doing something else on the ground, but I couldn't tell what. This evening, they were out front, just being kids.
Now, you may not think much of this, and certainly you may think it isn't worth writing about. But it is. Far too many kids spend all of their time indoors with their games/phones/computers. Far too few spend quality time outside interacting with other kids and nature, exercising their imaginations through unstructured play, unimpeded by adults smothering and hovering.
I know times have changed. I know there are bad things that can happen to kids. But I also know that the risk many times is minimal, and the rewards are great. I don't have a lot of sympathy for parents who think nothing of risking their kids in the car as they speed, change lanes, and cut off others just to get to the restaurant/grocery store/church a minute before someone else. Yet these same parents refuse to allow their kids to play outside because a kidnapper might come around. Doesn't make much sense to me.

The Solstice

OK, so today is the winter solstice. I really look forward to this day, because as I get older, winter, darkness, and cold seem to me to be more and more depressing. I'm much more in tune with growing plants, chirping birds, and lengthening days. And now, for the next six months, the days will be getting longer and the nights shorter. The air will begin to be warmed and the earth, at least in my temperate zone, will awaken from sleep.
Having said that, there is also something to be said for the change of season. I'm not sure what it would be like to live in Hawaii or Equador or on a tropical Pacific island. I understand the weather never varies all that much in some of those places. I'm not certain I wouldn't welcome just a few days of zero-degree weather or strong northerly winds or freezing rain or snow. Yes, we have to cope with temperature extremes in our part of the globe, but there are, I am sure, things to cope with in those parts of the world that don't change.
But when it's all said and done, although the Pacific island might be a good place to visit, or even live, for me the place to be is right here, right now. First, because I believe I was brought here for a reason and a purpose, and I'm where I'm supposed to be. Second, because family and friends are here in abundance and home is (or should be) where loved ones are.
This holiday season, I hope you are able to be with family and friends. I hope that you enjoy the time you spend with others. And I hope that you will always understand that God loves you and that you respond positively to that love in service and devotion to Him.

Gifts

I just saw a “60 Minutes” piece on people who have the ability to remember every day of their lives (at least from about age 12 on up) and recite the events of that day as if they happened just yesterday. They interviewed five people, along with a scientist and a researcher. They also went through testing of these people, checking their memories against events of the day to be certain they were correct in their memories. The scientist stated that these people were correct at least 99% of the time, and many times were 100% correct in their recollections.
Imagine being able to recall what you ate for dinner on January 19, 1992. Or who won the World Series in 1977 and several of the plays in that game, along with names of those who participated. Your first date would be as fresh as yesterday.
Of course, bad memories would be just as fresh. A bad accident you may have had. Your breakup with your mate or your stint in the hospital would be fresh as yesterday. Obviously, these people have to cope with some challenging things as they deal with life on a daily basis, yet are able to have near total recall of every day for the past 30 or 40 years.
They are not savants, it is said. They are more “normal” than not, with normal lives and normal behaviors. Science is studying these people to see what indeed is different and whether we can learn anything from their biology.
These people say that they “see” the day in question. Given a date without a year, they say they “scan” through all of those dates and can see snippets of each of those days. Given the year, they zero in on that “playback” and recall based on that. There is no mathematical contortion, they say, and no tricks to memory. It just sort of “plays” in their minds and they see the happenings of those days.
Nor do they think it’s necessarily a big deal for them. And it isn’t, for them. It’s a normal thing they live with all the time. Of course, it IS a big deal for the rest of us. And it provokes more questions than we have answers for very, very quickly.
Although I do not claim to be in the same league with these people, I was reminded when watching this piece of how I discern tones on the musical scale. I have at least a form of absolute pitch. The best way I can describe what I experience is that I “feel” the notes. Each note “feels” different. As I think about the C scale, there is a certain feel that comes to me when I think of C, D, E, and so on. I have attached qualities like soft, hard, warm, cool, etc. to each tone. When I hear a specific tone, I recall the feel and can name the note.
Of course, such a gift has its crosses to bear as well. If I am singing a song in key, I do just fine. But if it’s pitched high or low, many times I have to transpose notes as I go…for example, if the note is B flat and the pitch is a step and a half low, I have to mentally convert that B flat that I see on the music to G (1 ½ steps lower), recall the “feel” for G, then I can sing the proper pitch.
Over the years, I have taught myself to sing much as many others do, with the do re me method, and find myself having to transpose much less now, although when I read music for the first time, I still have to have the right pitch (or within a half step or so of the right pitch); else I get lost easily. Gifts usually come with two sides to them.
Others have other gifts. But all gifts ultimately come from the God who created us all and who wants us to use our gifts wisely and for the glory of God.

Traditions

We will shortly be leaving to go to my sister’s church building where my family will play and sing Christmas-themed songs, and will conduct a “skit” involving candles and the Christmas story as found in the Bible. We’ve done this in some form or another for several years, now. Sis invites those from her church to come as well. This year, we’ll eat a “crock pot” supper before the services.
Also, this year, Sis has a broken rib due to a fall in a parking lot. She stepped in a hole in the asphalt and tumbled over. I don’t know if the Lortab will allow her to come tonight or not. Initially, she wasn’t going to come, but since most doctors (and this one was no exception) say that you can do about whatever you feel like doing with a cracked or broken rib, if the medicine deals with the pain, she may be there.
This has become a tradition…one of many that we have. Surely, you have them too, and not just at Christmas. There are traditions wrapped around many of the holidays, and other events and times in the life of an individual. Some traditions are shared…others are personal. Sometimes others know about the tradition…sometimes no one knows except the one carrying on the tradition.
Traditions are good. They provide a sense of normalcy. They tend to ground a person and keep them from flying off, so to speak, aimlessly. They bring family and friends together. They promote a sense of belonging and camaraderie. And they many times bring good and altruistic things to pass.
Traditions can hinder as well, if one is inclined to allow them to stifle and quench new ideas and ways of doing things. Not everything new is good, but we won’t know, many times, until we’ve tried them. We can become so bound up in our traditions (Fiddler on the Roof) that we can’t see where reality is taking us.
But today, here’s to a tradition that is good and deserves yet another year of carrying out. There will come a time when I and many others in the family will no longer be able to carry out this or other traditions. The younger family members will carry on, and may well discard some of our traditions in favor of newer ones. So be it. It’s all good.

Good For Her

An unidentified Dayton, Ohio area woman came to the aid of a police officer along the side of a highway as he was wrestling with the driver of a vehicle he had pulled over because of a broken headlight. The officer asked the man to step out of the car. The man stepped out, then began fighting with the officer. He began to reach for the officer’s pistol when a woman came from nowhere and started beating the man on the head, making it possible for the officer to gain the upper hand in the fight.
About that time, police help arrived, and they were able to subdue the man, who was wanted on several warrants. The police do not know the name of the woman, where she came from, or why she helped.

Good for her.

The Thought of One Mind Leaping to Another

Sometimes it seems like a chore to write, knowing that social networking apps are much more likely to gain visitors than the “old fashioned” blogs of yesterday. However, I’m kind of a yesterday kind of person, and have often said that I write for myself as much or more than for anyone else. I’ll never be a great writer, and certainly won’t sell what I write, but seem to enjoy seeing black pixels become letters which form words that communicate a thought. There’s something magical in that, if you just stop to think about it for a minute.
And maybe that’s why I enjoy this kind of thing. It’s a real way to make magic happen. I arrange black pixels on a white background in such a way that I communicate a thought (intangible, yet real) to you…one mind communicating with another. Let’s see. How did that verse go in “For Heaven’s Sake”? “Just so, we communicate, you and I, the thought of one mind leaping to another, given shape and form and substance…” Now, if that’s not magical, I don’t know what is.
Think about it. I can enter your mind, and you into mine, just by the proper arrangement of black pixels on white background, or by the correct arrangement of sounds emanating from my vocal cords, which strike your ears and are processed as intelligence. Of course, there are many more forms of communications…facial expressions, actions, the five senses, and so on. And different people may be able to communicate better one way than another.
So is there communication that does not involve the five senses? Is there “something” there which imparts information that doesn’t use the normal pathways? Call it intuition. Call it supernatural. Call it paranormal. Call it spiritual. Call it whatever you will…does it exist? And if it does, but does not use the five senses to manifest itself, how do you know it exists?
It’s like the old Christian song, “He Lives” by Alfred Ackley. The last line says, “You ask me how I know He lives. He lives within my heart.” I suppose that’s OK, but it really doesn’t do much for me to answer that question. I could truthfully (as far as I can know and experience) say that many things live in my heart. My Dad lives in my heart. A couple of my good friends who have now departed live in my heart. So do my sons, my wife, and others. Love, jealousy, anger, envy, kindness, faith, and other things live in my heart. How could you refute that statement? And just what does that mean…”live in my heart”?
Besides, when it comes to Jesus Christ, which is what that song is about, I’d much prefer to think of Him living in reality and fact…not just in someone’s heart. The bodily resurrection of Jesus is indeed the crux…the cornerstone…the foundation of the Christian faith. That song doesn’t go nearly far enough to make that reality.
Well, I got off track a little and started preaching. But you get the idea. Words are just one form of communication, but very powerful indeed. The very nature of the nature of mankind demands some form of communication, imperfect and prone to misunderstanding though it be. May we continually perfect the tools we use to cause “the thought of one mind (to leap) to another.”