Grateful Instead

Today is one of those fall days that probably needn’t ever come.  It’s windier than the dickens outside…35 to 50 mph winds out of the west and northwest.  It’s cool, but not freezing.  And since there hasn’t been a killing freeze here yet, all manner of pollen and dander has been stirred up in the wind.  It’s hard to drive down a street; hard to stand outside; hard to walk; and hard to keep from having a headache from the sinus issues.

But I shouldn’t be so gripe-laden.  I’m not indoors; cant hear the wind; am warm; and my headache is moderated by generic Tylenol.  I don’t have to sleep outside tonight, and I’ll have plenty to eat and clean clothes for the morning.

It’s really tough, sometimes, to avoid the complaint party that many others seem to be attending.  We readily chime in with whatever ails us, and whatever might ail us in the future.  And some of us regale the others with stories of long ago and far away when we had to walk 7 miles uphill both ways to a one-room school in all kinds of weather with nothing more for shoes than a couple of pieces of cardboard, etc. etc.

Make no mistake.  There are people today, right outside your door, who are using cardboard for shelter and/or clothing.  There are people today, right outside your door, who will wear the same clothes tomorrow as they did today, and as they have for the past who-knows how many days.  There are people today, right outside your door, who won’t have anything to eat tonight…didn’t have anything to eat today…won’t have anything to eat tomorrow.

This privileged life is one thing I don’t really understand.  Why am I here?  Why am I not “over there?”  What is expected of me because I’m here and not there?  Am I fulfilling that expectation?  If not, what do I need to do?

It is said that Joseph Stalin prohibited the showing of “The Grapes of Wrath” from being shown in the Soviet Union.  If you know the film, you know the intent of the film makers was to deptct the downside of American life in the 1930’s.

Why, you may ask, would Stalin want to keep the citizens of the Soviet Union from seeing the downside to American life?  The movie also showed that even the poor had vehicles and could go wherever they wanted to go…which was not the case in the Soviet Union.  Stalin considered that truth to be too “political.”  (Credit Lloyd Billingsley, The Seuctive Image: A Christian Critique of the World of Film)

What is one person’s poverty is riches for another.  What is difficult and tough for one is just what another wishes for.  We choose not where we were born or to what culture we were born into.  But we do choose what we will do with what we have been given.  We do choose how we will be caretakers of those things that have been endowed to us.

The next time you feel like griping or complaining, think of those folks in "The Grapes of Wrath" and how their poverty appeared to be wealth to another culture…so much so that the government stepped in and refused to allow them to view the film.  Then decide whether you are still justified in your complaint.  You might just find that you need to be grateful instead.

Last Leg of the Birthday Day Trip

We didn’t spend any time in Olpe.  The original plan was to have lunch at the Chicken House with our niece and as much of her family as we could round up, but she was otherwise occupied that day.  So we drove the 10 miles or so to Emporia and out the west side on Highway 50.

That road eventually goes to Newton, although that wasn’t necessarily my destination.  It is an enjoyable trip through some really pretty country, and since the road has been reconstructed, is a better highway than the death trap it used to be.

Our trip on Highway 50 was uneventful, except for our stopping at two places.  One was one of those “historical marker” signs that one sees once in a while.  This marker was on the roadside a couple of miles east of Cottonwood Falls.  It talks of the “bluestem pasture region” of the area…otherwise noted as the Flint Hills of Kansas.  A couple of items of note from that marker are that the bluestem region covers about 4 ½ million acres, and is home to a million head of cattle each grazing season.  The marker sits at a place where one can gaze out on hundreds and hundreds of acres of the hills.  Quite a sight!

We also saw a sign on the roadside that said, “Clements Stone Arch Bridge” and pointed to a county road that went over a railroad and through what was left of the little town of Clements, Kansas, in western Chase County.  We decided to stop and see the bridge.

We went a mile or so down the road, and found a sign pointing to a path not much more than a wagon-path through a field.  We went that way, and found a wonderful structure, no longer used, that spanned the Cottonwood River, and was in use until several years ago when the road that went over it was re-routed and a new bridge was built about 500 yards east of the old bridge.  The bridge is in some disrepair, and good people are looking to find funds for its restoration.  But it is a marvelous testament to the ingenuity and skill of folks long past and gone to build something of this kind on the prairies of Kansas, using what they had available to them (limestone).

Clements Stone Arch Bridge...looking to the Northeast

We took a few photos of the bridge, then headed on down the road.  As we went on, we decided to stop in Newton at the Breadbasket restaurant, where we have eaten before.  It’s just south of the rail crossing on the main north-south street downtown.  We pulled up a little after 1pm and went in.

Normally, we go in the evening when they have a buffet.  This day, we ordered at the register.  As it was my birthday, I ordered a hot beef sandwich…something I don’t order because it has way too many carbs and not enough (or any) veggies.  I had a choice of a half or the whole thing.  Thinking of normal hot beef sandwiches I’d had, I ordered the whole.  Oh, my!

It came on a large plate with about three times the beef, potatoes, and gravy that I was expecting.  And the bread was a huge bun…not sliced bread.  I managed to down it, however, as it was very, very tasty.  But I knew I wouldn’t be having anything much for the evening meal that day.  In the first place, I didn’t need it after that.  In the second place, I wouldn’t want much anyhow!

We then got back in the car and came home in an uneventful last 30 minutes or so of our day trip.  What a wonderful way to spend some time with the wife of my youth and seeing things that make me thankful that Kansas is my home…at least in this life.

The Birthday Trip (Continued)Cattle Guard

We left the Town & Country Restaurant for an uneventful trip to El Dorado; then on to the Kansas Turnpike and up to the Cassidy exit.  Another 8 or so miles to the north and we were at the thriving town of Matfield Green.

With a present population of about 45 hardy souls, Highway 177 and the BNSF Railroad main line passing through it, Matfield Green is nestled in the Little Cedar Creek valley.  The Little Cedar Creek begins farther east and south of Matfield Green in the Flint Hills, and flows (contrary to the norm in Kansas), northwest…then on north to the Cottonwood River.  Matfield Green itself is a tired-looking small community of run-down buildings and various kinds of “stuff” stored on several of the lots in town.

We easily found the road out of the town to the east into the Flint Hills, and began following it.  As we were leaving town, we passed a vehicle coming from the opposite direction.  The driver waved at us.  I almost forgot rural etiquette, but managed to wave back…then remarked to my wife that I needed to remember to do that when we passed by anyone else.

The road was somewhat familiar to us as we have traveled it two or three times in the past.  It has always been, however, in the spring that we made the trip.  This time it was fall, and it hadn’t rained in about a month or a little more, so things were getting dry and the trees were looking rather worn and a little haggard.  The colors of the grasses, weeds, and other flora, however, were varied and delightful as we drove along under cloudy skies.

Not much changes in places like this from year to year.  Real estate is passed down from generation to generation.  Farming and ranching practices remain fairly constant.  The cycle of life and the seasons dictates that some things just remain as they have always been because that’s the best way.

We saw a lot of cattle yet in the pastures.  I was thinking that they may be mostly gone by now, but there were several herds of good size.  We didn’t see much in the way of wildlife except for birds, of course, and a lone coyote that was walking across the road in front of us until he saw us…then he made a dash for the left hand ditch.  I told the wife that we’d never see him again, and we never did.

Some of the land and some of the road got rather primitive for a couple from the big city.  There are several cattle guards that divide pastures and also divide the open range from the fenced-in area.Constructed of iron of some kind…usually 2 to 3 inch pipe or sometimes rail, and built into the ground in the roadway…they keep cattle on one side, but allow vehicles to cross.

Cattle Guard

 

When in the open range, one must be careful of where the livestock are so as to not run into any or cause any issue with them.  We didn’t have any that were really close enough to cause us issue; nevertheless, we maintained a good eye out for them.

We stopped regularly for photo opportunities.  I wanted to get some good shots, and think I managed to do so.  The overcast skies didn’t help with the lighting, but kept the day cool and pleasant for us.

There are several ways one can go toward the east end of the trip through the hills.  We chose the way that appeared to be the most traveled and ended up right on the west side of Olpe, Kansas.

More later.

Year 66

I entered into age 66, if I remember right, about 5am today while sound (sort-of) asleep.  My mother, 66 years ago, probably wasn’t asleep then, and neither were Dr. K.A. Bush or his nurse wife Jenny.  They tell me, and I have the x ray to show it, that I was born with an enlarged thymus gland in my neck that was compromising my ability to breathe.  In that era, the accepted treatment was radiation therapy, which I had.  It was a not-uncommon thing to have done then, although that treatment was discontinued in the 1960’s.  Luckily, I have no known bad effects from that treatment, and I have lived to see age 66.  I’ve also, because I was born in 1949, seen at least portions of 8 decades.

So, today is a day of celebration.  A celebration of life and living, and of the gracious provision of God in giving me moment-by-moment life for these years.  I don’t feel older or slower.  But I know that, compared with 20 years ago, there are things I can’t do as well and there are things I’ll not do anymore.  And that’s entirely OK, because there are things I can and am doing now that I couldn’t do 20 years ago due to not having the maturity to do them, or at least do them well.

We celebrated the day, my wife and I, low-key.  Starting out at about 7:30am, we got up and around, got rid of some of the aches and kinks from the night, and went to breakfast at the Town & Country Restaurant.

Town & Country is really a kind of a throwback to an earlier time when the intersection of Kellogg and I 235 was pretty much out in the country…or at least on the edge of the city.  Before Towne West went in, the restaurant was attached to and part of a motel that stretched for a block or more back toward where the mall now is.  The lanes were tree-lined, and if you got a room toward the back, it was quiet there.  I stayed there and ate there in the early 1970’s when I worked for the 3M Company, which had an office to the west of the motel (where Verizon is now).

Side note.  I was in the Verizon place not long ago.  I told the sales person there that I worked out of that building over 40 years ago before the age of cell phones and Internet…the person looked at me like I was rather ancient, which I was compared to her.

Back to the present.  Breakfast, after being seated by Larry Conover, the owner, was two large pancakes and three eggs over medium.  I should have listened to the waitress more carefully when she asked me if I was sure I wanted two cakes…I ate only about ½ of those two.  I should have ordered just one.  But they were good…didn’t have a lot of salt in the batter, and were hot.  The plate was also warm, and so was the syrup.  And they served real butter with them.  The wife had a half-order of biscuits and gravy, which also were pretty good.  Coffee for her; decaf for me.  She brought pots for both.

I noticed while there that there were no young waitresses there.  All the ones I saw had some, um, maturity about them.  The youngest looked to be about 35.  The oldest probably was a Social Security recipient.  That’s normal, though for the T & C.  The wait staff does a good job, seems to work well together, and has things under control.

As we were leaving, I noticed some old men sitting at the end of the counter.  They were probably regulars because they were on a first-name basis with each other and with the waitress…who also knew them and bantered with them for a bit.  One of the men asked the waitress how much she would charge for an order of bacon and an order of toast.  She replied right away with the prices, an estimate of the tax, and an estimated total that was pretty close…something most (by far) wait people in other places could no more do than they could fly.

More next time.

More Christ-Like

Many in the USA know about the abundance of refugees in the world today and wonder why the U.S. is not doing any more than it is regarding taking in these people.  I wondered the same thing myself; consequently, I did some research on the problem.  First, some facts are in order.

• ·       There are over 15 million refugees in the world today.  Most of those people receive some kind of help in the country to which they fled; then go back to their home country.
• ·       Refugees are still in the resettlement process who had first become refugees in the 1970’s and 1980’s.
• ·       Those at highest risk of torture, human trafficking, unaccompanied children, or those fleeing communist regimes (expressly provided by law) comprise less than 1 percent of the total number, and are resettled in a third country.
• ·       The United States takes in half of all those in point #2 above.
• ·       The UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) determines if a person qualifies as a refugee and sets up a plan for either return to the country of origin, settlement in the country to which they fled, or settlement into a third country.
• ·       Before a refugee is admitted to the USA, they go through a rigorous screening process , including in-person interviews, security screens, health screening, and ability to provide for his/her own needs once resettled, among other things.
• ·       Of the 9 resettlement agencies in the USA who are recognized by the US State Department, six are faith-based.  They are Jewish, Catholic, non-denominational (2), Episcopal, and Lutheran.  The other three are secular in nature.
• ·       Refugees must pay back the cost of transport to the U.S. out of earnings from the job they obtain after their arrival.
• ·       The U.S. provides support to the refugee agencies to help with expenses of food, clothing, agency expenses, etc.  It also provides connections with jobs and job services, health care, etc.
• ·       About 190 communities, including Wichita, are designated as “Preferred Communicites” and receive extra funding through the refugee program because they receive higher risk families or more than the normal number of refugees.
• ·       It usually takes 1 ½ to 2 years to resettle a refugee from the time of the initial U.N. referral.

I don’t know what you think about the refugee situation and how the USA is handling the intake of refugees.  But this process is long, involved, and in some respects tedious.  Not everyone who flees a country does so for noble reasons.  And not everyone who flees a country is able to withstand the rigors of being resettled in a foreign culture, learn a foreign language, and assimilate into a foreign society.

It is also imperative to understand that the U.S. does not determine whether a person is a refugee or not.  That decision is made by an agency of the United Nations.  The U.S. and other countries work with those already certified as refugees to get them relocated and assimilated into society, whether back to their home country, the country they fled to, or a third nation.

I am satisfied, after research that included visiting with a worker with the Episcopal Migration Ministries here in Wichita that we are doing a good job of refugee resettlement in this nation.  And I am pleased that 2/3 of the refugee resettlement agencies are faith-based.

Could we do more?  Yes.  We need more individuals to step up to mentor refugees the first few months of resettlement.  We need more agencies and individuals to provide housing opportunities, job opportunities, furnishings, etc. for these folks.  We need more cities and communities to step up to accept refugees.

Instead of complaining about how the U.S.A. is ignoring the refugee situation and not helping, maybe we instead should contact Episcopal Migration Ministries in Wichita, or one of the other agencies, to find out what we can do to help.  Maybe we can volunteer to mentor a refugee family.  Maybe we can provide a bed, refrigerator, or a month of utilities for a new family until they get on their feet.  Maybe we can educate ourselves on the issue and find something productive to do instead of complain about what isn’t being done.

That would be more Christ-like, now, wouldn’t it.

Go Royals!

It’s late.  It’s past 10pm…almost 10:30.  The Royals are about to win the AL Central Division tonight.  That’s the reason we’re still up watching TV.  We’ve kind of become Royals fans, in part because of their proximity to Wichita, and part because our older son has been a fan for many years and attends many of the home games along with Lauren, our daughter –in-law.

Why is it that we become so enamored with things such as professional sports teams?  Is there something about living vicariously here?  Or maybe it’s the idea that we are part of something that is winning.  And the opposite can be true as well.  A poor team that loses many times has its followers who perpetually say, “Wait until next year.”  And we love even the losers.  Could it be diversion from the routine of life?  Or maybe it IS life for some of us.

I don’t know what it is that keeps my wife and me up later than we should be.  But whatever it is, it sort of has a hold on us with this Royals team.  We’ve come to know more about many of the players than we usually do with teams such as this.  There’s something, well, fun about watching these guys.  And it’s something we can watch on TV that isn’t violent, immoral, or otherwise decadent.

I’m afraid, sadly, that is one of the reasons we watch sports events.  It’s still wholesome (for the most part) TV.  We don’t have to worry about what’s coming.  We are watching a known quantity.  And we appreciate the opportunity to watch something that is appropriate for a Christian family environment.

So, bring on the playoffs, and bring on the World Series!  We’ll be right there, if not in the stadium, we’ll be there through the magic of television.  Go Royals!

Labor Day

So, it’s Labor Day 2015.  And again, as we have done for many years, the family will gather in one place to eat, visit, play, and catch up with the rapidly-growing nieces, nephews, grand-nieces, grand-nephews, and grandkids.  It will be hot, but we will be outside for at least some of the day.  We like horseshoes, croquet, and some of those old-timey things like that.  The banshees will run around, ride the electric cars, and maybe play in the water…or even the mud.

We tend to forget the original reason for Labor Day, and I guess there’s not much wrong with that.  I’m not certain there ever should have been a holiday to remember the “working man” in this country in the first place.  And now that it has become a three-day weekend to usher out the summer, it seems that’s fine with me.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve been a “working man” all my life.  And so have those in my family.  But isn’t that what we’re SUPPOSED to do?  Do we need a holiday to remember those who do what they are supposed to do?  You may disagree, and that’s OK.  I just think we could have chosen something more appropriate if we needed a holiday the first part of September.

The Good Book says we are to work with our hands (Paul to the Thessalonians).  It also says we are to work willingly, as unto the Lord (Paul to the Colossians).  And it says that if one is not willing to work, they should not eat (Paul to the Thessalonians again).  The wise man says in Ecclesiastes that whatever a man’s hand finds to do, he is to do it with all his might.

The Bible has a lot to say about work.  The passages are plain and understandable.  They make sense.  They are appropriate.  They tell us that we were made to work.  We were made to be productive.   We were made to accomplish something in our lives.  Everything works better when we all contribute in some way.

So this Labor Day, if you celebrate, take just a moment and think about God’s words to you regarding work and labor.  And thank Him for the opportunity you have to fulfill those words.

Life...It All Depends...

With all that goes wrong in this world, sometimes there are times and events and things that happen that give one a renewed sense of hope.  I have to believe that God in His mercy provides, at times, glimpses of the good, the honorable, the decent, and the right for us so we will indeed not become “weary in well-doing.”

We talk a lot, and I am guilty as well, of those things in life and this world that are not good, not honorable, not decent, and not right.  And we need to not only talk about those things, but work under the strength and provision of God to make changes when and where we can.  We won’t make this world a paradise…it just won’t happen.  But we can make it a better place to live, and we can give others a glimpse of the beauty and glory that is God’s.

I’ve just spent several minutes watching some videos on YouTube.  Yes, I know, there are all kinds of nutty, and even bad things on there.  But there are also some really, really good things too.  I watched the 1,000 voice Kentucky All State Choir sing the National Anthem in the 18 story high atrium of the Louisville Hyatt at 11:00pm, as they do every night they are there.  Hauntingly beautiful, heartfelt, and soulful it is.  Check out the 2013 version here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAEmpdSHC10

And regardless of what you might think of Wynona Judd or Bette Midler, you have to agree that The Rose, and this rendition of it, is one of the most powerful you’ve ever seen.  The words to that song should be, I think, memorized and sung by EVERYONE at least daily.  You can find that performance here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5q0KmjU0Qk

Then there are the various videos that record performances by such as Peter, Paul, and Mary, the Carpenters, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and others, depending on your age and your preferences.  Many of these performances are top-notch and bring back fond memories and a sense of well-being that is sometimes difficult to capture in life.

Whether these performers know it or not, they are displaying the creative glory that is God’s, and they are performing a real service to those of us who need to be lifted up from time to time.

Additionally, and separate from any YouTube stuff, we have the unique opportunity to surround ourselves with those friends and acquaintances who exemplify the best of humanity.  These people unselfishly serve, give, mentor, coach, discipline, train, protect, and a host of other things in their daily lives.  And they encourage others to do so as well.  I am blessed to be able to count as friends several of these folks who, daily, get up and get going in their day to make life a little better for someone else they probably don’t know.

Life is sometimes a grind.  Life is sometimes unfair.  Life is sometimes unkind.  Life is sometimes just the pits.  But I think life can be, and truly is, what we make it.  We can choose to see the dirt and the filth, or we can choose the beauty and the good.  Whatever we choose, it WILL affect our world view and how we see and react to life and living.

It all depends on what you want.