Trying Too Hard

 I was in our front yard doing some gardening in one of our front flower beds a few days ago.  It had recently rained some, and the weeds were easy to pull, so I was spending some time doing just that.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a golf cart pulling up into the drive and coming toward me.  I knew that Rick, our neighbor, was coming to see me for some reason.  Sometimes it’s just to visit; other times he needs me to do something for him.

Rick is retired, and has difficulty getting around due to the after effects of a long-ago stroke.  He often uses the golf cart to get the mail or visit some relatives a couple of blocks away in our neighborhood.  So it wasn’t at all surprising that he showed up in our drive.

It turned out that he wanted me to go next door to his place and try to raise the hood on one of his vehicles.  He had pulled the release inside the cabin, but couldn’t figure out where the secondary latch was that would give final release.

It isn’t unusual for him to ask me to do some small thing such as this, and I am happy to oblige.  He and Sharon, his wife, are good neighbors, and are doing their best to make their way in the latter stages of life and living in spite of the difficulties.

I went with him into the garage and made certain that the release had been pulled inside the cabin.  I then went to the front of the vehicle, turned on the flashlight on my phone, and looked under the hood for the secondary latch.  It was right there in the space between the hood and the radiator, which is where I expected it to be.  It was difficult for me to reach my hand into the space far enough to manipulate the latch lever, and I don’t have large hands at all.

Rick’s hands were much larger than mine, and weren’t as nimble due to his physical condition.  I think he wasn’t able to get his hand in far enough to even touch the lever, let alone move it to raise the hood.

When I did get my hand to the lever, at first I couldn’t raise the hood even though the lever moved.  I tried a couple more times, and got it to raise up.  It turned out that the hood latch was built so that if one lifted on the lever too hard, it seemed to catch somehow and wouldn’t let the hood up.  Whether that was an intentional thing or just a flaw in the design, I don’t know.  One had to lift rather gently on the lever…then the hood would go right up.

The first couple of times, I was trying too hard.  Making things more difficult the harder I tried.  How often have you found yourself in that position in life?  Something happens that you need to respond to, or you’d like for something to happen in a certain way, and you find out that the harder you try to make whatever it is happen, the worse the situation becomes.  I like to use the term “finagle” to describe such behavior.  I know the dictionary definition of the word, but I tend to take a little different personal view of the word.  While the dictionary describes the word as resorting to deception, cheating, or swindling, it also uses the term “cleverness” to explain it.  That’s how I use the word…cleverness…we will resort to almost any means to get the results we want, as long as those means don’t conflict too much with our moral compass.

Fixing the issue of trying too hard doesn’t mean, however, that we don’t try at all.  Sitting back and letting the world go by, not engaging in anything of substance is not how God wired us.  He has outfitted us with certain talents and abilities and expects us to use them to finagle??...no, use them for His glory and for His purpose.  As it is with many things in life, there is a kind of happy medium where we are diligent and purposeful in what we do, but we don’t overdo it…nor do we sit back and just let things deteriorate.

Finding that happy medium is sometimes one of the more difficult things we as humans encounter.  It takes maturity, wisdom, and yes…even courage and strength to resist going off of the deep end one way or the other, staying the course.

When God is our guide in life and living…when our desire is to serve Him and our joy is participating with Him in the renewal of the creation in our sphere of things…then we are within His will and purpose for us.

Don’t lift the hood latch to forcefully, because it won’t work.  Don’t try to hard.  Do find joy in what you do for the Lord.  Do find satisfaction in partnering with God in your sphere of influence.  Do allow Him to do the finagling, as it were, FOR you and on YOUR and HIS behalf.  And rest in the knowledge that He is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.

 Blessings.

"Thank You"

 Each Sunday in our worship services, we set aside some time for the communion.  Some may call it the eucharist or some other designation.  Many of us are familiar with this religious observance, even if we don’t attend regularly or our particular church does not regularly participate.

The mechanism of delivering a piece of unleavened bread and the wine, or the “fruit of the vine,” as many call it, differs from church to church.  Some pass trays with the elements on them down the rows of worshippers.  Others have participants come to the front of the auditorium to an altar.  Some have clergy hand out the emblems.  Some distribute one-time-use cups that are sealed with both the bread and the wine inside.

At RiverWalk, we have both the sealed one-use cups as well as ushers who will serve the elements to those who prefer that method.  Those ushers will go up and down the aisles, and generally know who would prefer to be served, because it usually the same worshippers from week to week.  They also look for raised hands signaling that the person would prefer to be served.

We sit across from an older lady in the assembly.  I believe she is the oldest member of our congregation.  She’s in her mid-90’s and still drives to services and lives on her own.  Doris prefers to be served by an usher as it is difficult for her to use the pre-filled, sealed cups.

Last Sunday, I happened to watch as she took the emblem from the tray that Keith was carrying.  When she had done so, she looked at him and mouthed, “Thank you,” to him.

I turned away and faced the front again.  But I couldn’t get out of my mind the simple act of kindness that I just saw.  For some reason, Doris mouthing a thank you to the usher was to me a profound example of how simple acts of kindness and gratitude can overflow even in the midst of the most routine and mundane events and circumstances.  Now, I’m not saying that the communion itself is mundane and routine.  Far from it.  But the idea that someone would thank someone else for doing a job that he was supposed to be doing in the first place…and during a time when our thoughts were on Jesus Christ and his sacrifice on the cross…came across to me as something special and in a real way very integral with the communion itself.

We say it often, many of us do, in many ways and many venues.  Kindness matters.  Civility matters.  Gratitude matters.  Thankfulness matters.  Kindness, civility, gratitude, and thanksgiving should be as routine and normal for us as breathing.  Those qualities should be embedded into our lives and routines to the point that doing anything to the contrary would create within us a sense of, “Why in heaven’s name did I do that?” and cause us to make it right if we could.  And if we couldn’t, to at least determine that we will do better.

“Be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven you.  Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.”  The Bible is filled with these kinds of statements.  We also find many examples of kindness, gratitude, thanksgiving and civility in that book.  That way of living promotes a kind of inner peace and joy that just can’t be matched by anything else.  The effect on society at large, even if we just commit the small kindnesses and acts of gratitude, is so much greater than just about anything else we could do to influence our corner of the world for the good.  And, it’s something we can all participate in…regardless of our race, creed, color, origin, orientation, wealth, age, or any other marker of who we are.

“Be kind to one-another.”  Good stuff.

Mind Your Own Business

 

Good morning, and welcome.

 The church where I work is rather old-fashioned in some ways.  Actually, I think most all churches could make that statement if one would carefully look at that church’s tenants and practices.  I suspect one could find several items that were traditional or from a former era.

 One of those practices considered to be old fashioned is Wednesday evening services.  Most churches don’t do that anymore, but we still do, at least most months of the year.  We take a break over the summer months.  We don’t have a large attendance, but the time is productive and gives us the impetus to finish out the week.

 I’ve been teaching a short adult class on the New Testament book of II Thessalonians.  I chose that book because first of all, I myself didn’t know a lot about the book and wanted to learn more.  Second, it’s a short book that fit into my four-week time slot.  And third, there’s a wealth of teaching in that book that is as pertinent now as it was those many centuries ago.

 Paul the apostle is the author of the short letter to the church at Thessalonica.  He had written at least one prior letter to the church…the book of I Thessalonians.  In that prior letter, he urged the people of the church to lead quiet lives and if at all possible, earn your own living, not being dependent on others.  He also urged them to not be idle or disruptive, but instead encourage others and be patient with all.

 That first letter evidently had little effect on those who were the subjects of that paragraph, because in the second letter that has been preserved for us, Paul is much more adamant in his teaching on idleness and minding one’s own business, going so far as to tell the church members to keep away from those who are idle, disruptive, and busybodies.  He minces no words, and is direct and clear in what he is saying.

 Wouldn’t life go more smoothly if everyone just minded his own business and became involved in the business of others only if asked to do so?  And even if asked, that help should be encouraging and  tempered with patience and love.  Additionally, the one who has been asked for help should gracefully bow out when asked or when it becomes apparent that no further help is needed or wanted.

 We can’t even keep our own lives on an even keel much of the time.  How would we expect to be able to guide the lives of others?

 Additionally, being a busybody, as Paul says, inserting ourselves into other people’s business tends to bring out three things in us that are not good.  First, we tend to develop a feeling of superiority over another person.  Second, we inflate our own egos in this process, thinking more of ourselves than we ought…thinking that we have the answers.  And third, we gain a certain amount of power over the person we think we are helping.  All of those things run counter to the attitudes and behaviors of Christians.  And it would be helpful if everyone realized that these things are not good for us or for society.

 Things haven’t changed much in the centuries between when this was written and today.  Idleness and a lack of work or productive service tends to bring on the temptation to insert oneself into someone else’s business, even when not asked, needed, or wanted.  This kind of activity tends to disrupt things, cause hard feelings, and create divides and schisms between and among people.  It is not the kind of activity that a Christian should be involved in, and it would be helpful if everyone, Christian or not, heeded this good advice from the Good Book.

 Thanks for listening to this sermonette today.  I normally don’t make the Thursday Thought a Bible Class, but sometimes, one has to do what one has to do.  May the rest of your week be blessed, and may we all remember the true reason for the upcoming Memorial Day holiday as we gather with family and friends.

 Blessings.

The Next TIme

 Good afternoon, and welcome.

 I know I’ve visited with you before regarding the topic for today.  But I think it deserves another look.  As you know, I work at a downtown urban church set on the banks of the Arkansas river.  This location gives us plenty of opportunity to see what goes on in the downtown area as well as to sometimes participate in it.

 As the warmer weather has come on us, we see more of the unhoused walking the streets in front of and beside our building.  They are usually easy to spot and set apart from the business people and residents of the area who are walking the streets as well.  They usually have large backpacks or are pushing or pulling some kind of cart or wagon.  If they happen to have a bicycle, they often will have it loaded down with bags, or will be pulling some kind of cart behind it.  Their clothing is often ill-fitting and out of season.  They have a generally disheveled appearance.  They often look as if they’ve just come in from the wilderness and are in need of hygiene services.

 Now, I say none of those things in order to denigrate or make fun of anyone.  Rather, I say those things because you too have seen such people, and most likely don’t have the best thoughts about them when you see or encounter them.  The thoughts of most of us who encounter these folks range from, “Why don’t they get a job?” to “Why don’t they just go away?”  Sometimes the thoughts and even spoken comments are more mean-spirited than those I just mentioned, reducing these people to something less than human and worthy of nothing from the rest of us.  We treat animals better than some of us treat these people.

 The sight of an unhoused person or couple walking the street with all of their worldly possessions on their backs is familiar to me.  I’ve seen it hundreds and  hundreds of times.  They’ve come to our church door hundreds and hundreds of times looking for food, water, a restroom, clothing, gloves, or something else that will help them get through the day.  Some of their requests we can help with…others, not so much.

 Just a few minutes ago, John came to the door.  He shows up about once a year and always wants to go through the Lions Club donated eyeglasses box we have in our foyer to see if there may be glasses in there that he might be able to use.  He also usually uses the restroom facilities.  A decent and friendly man, John never needs much, and is always polite and well-spoken.

 Rocky comes by more often.  He never needs much either…some Gatorade or maybe a pair of socks, a tube of Fixodent denture adhesive or perhaps something else small.  Sometimes he needs the restroom…sometimes not.  The last time he came in, he used the restroom.  I went in afterwards and found the Jeans he had been wearing in the trash, along with a lot of paper hand towels.  He had evidently soiled himself and used the restroom to clean up and change his pants.

 Many others walk by and never stop, except maybe to check out the Paxton’s Blessing Box we have outside our door.  Most of them I don’t know.  Many of them will be in this area for awhile, then go somewhere else either in the Wichita area or another city.  A very few will put together what it takes to get permanent housing, and will get off the street.  Jim and Arlene are two examples of that.  I’m grateful they were able to navigate the sometimes byzantine requirements for a government identification card and then succeed in running the maze of government agencies and qualifying for housing and other resources.

 Even though I’ve seen hundreds of scenes of the unhoused on the street, each time I see it I get a twinge in my soul and am at once both saddened that we as a society can’t seem to get a handle on the issue, and yet grateful that I’ve been given what I have in life and can go home to a real house with turned-on utilities, comfortable furniture, and a great neighborhood.

 I don’t have the answers.  I’m not certain at this point that anyone does.  But I know that those who I see on the street are people…human beings…worthy of the dignity and respect that comes with that designation.  Unhoused, disheveled, mentally ill, jobless…it doesn’t matter.  When we begin to disrespect or at minimum ignore any class of human beings, we cheapen the meaning of human life and make it more expendable.  As humans ourselves, we need to continually, ferociously guard against that tendency.

 The next time you see an apparently homeless individual on the street, think about what it is that you think or say when you see one.  Maybe, just maybe, you need to develop a little more kindness and empathy, and see them for who they are…humans made in the image of God.

 Blessings,

A Call and A Visit

 Late last week, I received a call at the office from a woman needing assistance with rent.  Now, we normally don’t do rent, but when she told me she was keeping seven kids in three motel rooms, I at least listened to her story.

I won’t go into the story, but she did say that she was working with another church in town.  I asked if I could contact that church regarding her and she agreed.  By the way, we didn’t help with rent, but we did pay her motel bill for another day to give her more time to get things put together.

I called the woman at the other church and visited with her regarding the woman in need.  I also visited with her regarding benevolence in general.  The church I called was on the west side of Wichita in a nicer neighborhood.  It was also a much larger congregation than ours.  We ended the call with my asking if we could meet in person and discuss benevolence in general more fully than we can on the phone.  She agreed, and we met this week…yesterday, in fact.

Abby and her supervisor were gracious and forthcoming in the meeting.  I was somewhat surprised by the number of benevolent requests they receive on the average.  They said it wasn’t unusual for them to receive 8 or more requests a day for some kind of help.  They said the numbers have substantially increased, and there were days they felt “inundated”…that was the word Abby used to describe how she felt.

They receive mainly requests for rent assistance.  They also receive other kinds of requests, including food, clothing, transportation, and other services.  As you may know from my other Thursday Thoughts, RiverWalk doesn’t normally do rent or transportation, but will, depending on the circumstance, help with a utility bill or perhaps gasoline for a vehicle.  We also help any of our members much more fully than we would a non-member if there is a need there.  We are limited, however, just as all non-profits and churches are, in how much we can help.  There is only so much to go around and when it’s gone, we have to say, “No.”

I tell you these things to say that we often have conflicting emotions and feelings as we work with those in need.  These women confirmed that as I visited with them.  We often feel discouraged at the sheer numbers of those in need.  We almost grieve as we hear of children and women who have no place to go and are living on the street or in a vehicle.  We become angry at times because of how some are treated by landlords and others.  Hearing the stories of those who are being sucked into the pit of homelessness and poverty becomes wearing on our emotional well-being and even makes us physically and mentally exhausted at times.  We become cynical at the world and the society around us, seemingly an uncaring and cruel place.

We look at government for assistance and many times receive commissions and committees who are “studying” the issues, with no real answers forthcoming.  We look to our state legislatures and the Congress and see partisan bickering, stonewalling, and seemingly catering to the haves more than the have-nots.

Abbi and Sherry at the church I visited, as well as we at RiverWalk and dozens of other non-profits and churches, work hard to provide resources as we can and are able to those in need.  We sometimes cannot provide what the requester believes he or she needs, but sometimes we can help out in some way.  Additionally, we work to help those needing help to see beyond the next hour, day, or week.  To work toward self-sufficiency, and leave generational poverty and need behind.  When appropriate, we broach the subject of spiritual need and the fact that Jesus Christ can fill that need, and our willingness to partner with them in exploring the faith.

Abbi, Sherry and I ended our conversation with the old truth that we can’t help everyone, but we can help someone…one person at a time.  We closed with a prayer that each of us participated in.  I left there uplifted by the knowledge that others feel as I often do, and by the truth of helping one person at a time, being given the opportunity to point people toward the love of Jesus Christ as well as receiving the strength and wisdom to carry on.

I am grateful for the opportunity to visit with them, and grateful for the opportunity God has given me at this time to do this work on behalf of the RiverWalk Church of Christ.

 

Blessings,

Believe In a Cause

 Recently, Pat and I went on a trip to the Southeastern part of the USA.  We have never been in that part of the nation, and wanted to see the sights.  Additionally, we like things historical in nature, so planned our visit around various museums, a Civil War battlefield or two, and other historic places in that part of the country.

One of the places I wanted to see was the Edmond Pettus bridge in Selma, Alabama.  I well remember as a young person watching the news accounts of the attempted “March to Montgomery” on a Sunday when the marchers were attacked by the police and forced to turn back.  I recall, as a youth who had been living a relatively sheltered life in a small rural town in Kansas wondering just what it was I was seeing, and why.  Why did these people think they needed to march to Montgomery?  Why were they being beaten for wanting to do so?  What is it that makes people do these things to other people, regardless of the reason?

When we arrived in Selma, one of the first things we did was walk across the bridge ourselves to a museum.  We toured the museum and walked back across the bridge.  Our walk that day was a far cry from what happened there almost 50 years ago.  And had I not seen the news reports back then, I would have a hard time believing what happened there.

I could concentrate this article on several points, but the point I wish to make is that the marchers knew before they began that they would be turned back.  They knew they may well be attacked.  They new some might be gravely injured and some might lose their lives.  Yet they went on, believing in the cause…believing even to the point of dying for the cause.

Do you believe in any cause for which you are willing to suffer the consequences, including losing your life, should it come to that?  If you are a Christian and don’t quickly mention the cause of Jesus Christ, perhaps you need to re-think your priorities.  The New Testament is filled with stories of people who loved the cause of Jesus Christ to the point that they were willing, not only to suffer, but to lose their lives for that cause.

Seeing Little Rock Central High School, the Edmund Pettus Bridge, the Battle of Vicksburg Civil War battlefield, and the hotel where Martin Luther King was shot has given me pause to wonder if I have what it takes to suffer and possibly die for a cause that I have for much of my life said I believed in…just as countless people in times past have done for causes they believed.

What about you?

Hope

Good evening. I am writing this week's Thursday Thought today because I won't be available this Thursday. So, you get two thoughts in three days !!

Today, I watched CBS News “60 Minutes.” I don't know if you watch that or not. But I try to watch it if possible. This evening, they had a piece on the situation in northwestern Syria. They concentrated on the medical care in that area. Syria, in the event you are unaware, has been going through over ten years of warfare within itself. Rebels want to overthrow the Assad regime, and of course, Mr. Assad wants to remain in power as his family has done for over five decades. Assad has help from Russia, which is complicit in everything Assad has done regarding genocide, chemical warfare, and other atrocities.

Not long ago, a huge earthquake shook the northwestern part of the country, causing massive building collapse and further pain and suffering, if that were possible, than what the war has been causing. Multiple tens of thousands of additional refugees were created by the quake, only adding on to the misery of the people.

I don't have the words to describe what I saw in the twenty minute piece aired by CBS. You'll have to watch it yourself on either the CBS site or on YouTube. I will tell you, though, that when I watch such scenes of horror and devastation, I normally have two things I think.

First, my anger increases. Anger with those carrying on the fighting. Anger with the world which is impotent or unwilling to stop it. Anger with the greed and self-centeredness that is usually at the heart of such battles. Anger that human beings could do such things to other human beings.

Second, I think of something Fred Rogers said years ago. He told us that when bad things are happening to look for the helpers. The helpers, he said, will always be there.

Rather than concentrate the rest of this post on my anger, I prefer to concentrate it on the helpers I saw in the piece. I can't name them all, but I saw rescuers, equipment operators, doctors, nurses, hospital staff, and others who were making it their life work to help others as best they could, given the dire situation which was presented to them. Without these helpers, the death toll would be even worse than it already is. They truly are angels sent by God.

In an interview with one of the doctors, the question was asked regarding what was most needed. The doctor could have said food, medications, supplies, and so on. But what he said was that people there need hope. Hope. Without hope, there is no future. Without hope, there is no desire for wholeness. Without hope, the nation will perish.

The doctor who was being interviewed believed he and others, in a small way, were giving hope to those they served. Besides setting bones, stitching wounds, and performing surgery, these people...the helpers...were giving hope to those they encountered. The people know they are not alone. They know there are others who care. They know they are not only on the minds of others, but are also in their hearts. And that gives hope.

I urge you to not only know what is happening in the world, but also what is happening outside your front door. There is always need. There also is always the need for the helpers. Those who will give hope to the hopeless. You can, even if in a small way, be a helper. You don't have to be a doctor or rescue professional. Everyone can give hope. Everyone can help in some way. Give it a try. I think you'll be glad you did.

Blessings.

Mr. Kruse

 We at the Plank household receive the Wichita Eagle paper edition six days a week.  They don’t print an edition on Saturdays.  One of my routines is to read, or at least skim through the newspaper while I’m eating my shredded wheat in the morning.  And one of the sub-routines within that routine is to check the obituaries for anyone I may know or know of who has passed away.

I don’t often find anyone that I know, and seldom find anyone I know of whose name appears in the obituary section of the paper.  However, sometimes, I see an old friend’s name, or an acquaintance…possibly from the deep past, or maybe even an old classmate or someone I knew from my home town.  Some may find this practice of mine a bit morbid; I don’t.  Knowing gives me an opportunity to possibly reach out to the family in some way, or perhaps even attend the services or at least sign the guest book or attend the graveside service, depending on how the family has decided to  honor the deceased.

Last week, I ran across a name in the obituaries that rang a bell in the distant past…over 50 years ago, in fact.  Following my graduation from high school, I attended WTI, a vocational school here in Wichita…still in business, by the way.  I took electronics technology training there under the tutelage of several instructors; one of whom was John Kruse, whose name showed up in the obituary section of the Eagle.

Mr. Kruse was my television instructor as well as my Industrial Electronics instructor.  His was the last class I attended there before my graduation.  For some reason, his name has stuck with me all these years.  I can recall one or two names of other instructors and associate instructors, but Mr.Kruse was the one I recall the best.

Reading his obituary, I see that he spent over 30 years at WTI and lived in Wichita all his adult life.  He was active in his church, had a family, and was also active in the community.  I would have, had I thought about doing so, loved to have seen and visited with him in his later years.  Of course, that’s no longer an option.

Every time I see in the obit section that someone I know or know of has passed, I get just a little melancholy for a short time thinking about the life that has passed, how I know or knew that person, what he or she meant to me, and how things have changed, if at all, since his or her passing.  Oh, I don’t get depressed, but I may get into a sort of a funk for a few days if the person who has passed away was close to me in some way.

Today, CJ, one of the other ministers, came to my door as he came in to work and asked me how I was doing.  He came into my office and we visited for just a bit about why I seem to be just a little bit “down” when seeing someone’s name in the obituary section who I’ve known or know.  Now, I don’t know if this is a normal thing or not.  I only know how I sometimes feel during times like this.  But as we talked, one thing came out rather clearly.

John Kruse was doing his job when he taught our class.  Yes, he did it well.  But it was a job for  him.  Work.  It was what he did for a living.  Yet, in many ways, he had, and still has, a profound effect on me.  Had he not been my instructor, I may well have still done well and did what I have done in life.  But I can’t be sure of that.  And if I was a betting man, I would bet that in some way, some how, he steered me, probably unknowingly, into the place where I am today through something he said or did all those years ago that made my life-series of events what they are and brought me to this place in time.

And the more I think about this, the more I can relate that truth to my own life and those events and people that I have affected in some way.  Often, and especially in ministry, it is difficult if not impossible to measure success.  Oh, we might look at the attendance or collection numbers.  And once in a while we might succeed in celebrating a conversion or perhaps a positive result from a benevolent act or some kind of counseling.  But by far most of the time what we do isn’t results-oriented in the same way that some other occupations are.  We can’t count the number of widgets that come off of our assembly line.  We don’t know how many people we have cured of some illness.  We don’t measure our work by the number of acres of farmland we work in a day or how many cattle we can sell at market.

But, just as John Kruse, all these years, has been an influence on my life, so I must believe and acknowledge that I have been and continue to be an influence on others, and that THAT influence will likely outlive me, possibly by many years or even decades.  The question is, will that influence be positive or negative…good or bad…uplifting or damaging?

I thank God that Mr. Kruse was part of my life.  I am also thankful that I can be a positive influence on others, even if I never know what I’ve said or done, or how I have influenced someone else.  And I trust that He will see to it that my influence will “work together for the good,” in someone’s life.

You Can, Too

 There are some days when I like to take the long way to the office.  Most of those days, I’ll turn to the South instead of to the North as I exit our neighborhood and will drive out toward what passes for the rural area of Sedgwick County.  I say, “What passes for the rural area” because there aren’t a lot of places left in the county where you can go and not see a house or some kind of development within your field of vision.  One also will find several paved roads in the county…something not often seen in the genuinely rural areas of Kansas.

Today was one of those days.  I went South on Maize Road and turned left on 47^th Street South.  I was heading to South Broadway where I’d make my entrance to the city and come on in to work.  I hadn’t traveled 47^th Street into Broadway before, so I didn’t realize that it dead-ended at the Big Ditch.  I had to turn around and go on south to 55^th, where I crossed the ditch, came to Broadway, and started into the city.

Somewhere between 31^st Street and Pawnee, there is a noticeable change in what one sees when driving South Broadway.  That change lasts until crossing under Kellogg into the downtown business district.  The area becomes a place where one sees a number of folks who, in all probability, either have no place to call home, are living day to day in one of the numerous motels in the area, and are looking for any way they can find to survive the day.

Men are carrying large backpacks as they walk from who-knows-where to who-knows-where.  The entirety of their earthly possessions is probably in that backpack.  Women are sitting on curbs, waiting for whatever, or whoever may come their way.  There’s a man over there picking through a dumpster beside a café.  A couple of guys are on bicycles, burdened down with sacks and backpacks.  A couple is walking out of a motel parking lot onto the street.  A man crosses the street in front of me, forcing me to slow down to let him pass.  He seems oblivious to any traffic.  Inexpensive motels are numerous along with “NO TRESSPASSING” signs everywhere.

Most of the people I see in that neighborhood are in need of a shave, a shower, clean clothes, dental work, or some combination thereof.  Many, if I knew their age, would look years older than their chronological age.  Many, if I just knew, would not have a government identification.  Most all would not have a job.  Many would be substance users.  Many probably get what little money they have through illicit or illegal means.  And many of those I saw could really benefit from decent mental health care.

Yet these folks may be the fortunate ones among those in the homeless and near-homeless community.  Several of them can somehow get enough cash during the day that they can afford a motel room for the night, or at least pay half of the bill and room with someone else.  They may well have friends in the area who can partner with them to help keep away danger and thieves at night.  And food is usually available, at least at times.

But there are some in the homeless community who are so mentally ill or are so tripped out on drugs that they can’t think well enough to find a place inside for the night.  Their behavior is sometimes so bizarre that no one else will befriend them, and no one will associate with them.  They may go days without food because they are so strung out or are suffering a mental crisis to the point that they can’t function even for the basic necessities.

If you live in the Wichita area, and you haven’t driven South Broadway for awhile, please do so at your earliest convenience.  Look around as you go down the street.  Notice those who are otherwise not noticed by polite society.  Think about the fact that these people all have a story.  They all have had, and many still have, family somewhere.  Their main goal each day is survival, whatever that looks like for them.  One hour follows another…one day follows another…one month follows another.  For them, it is an endless entanglement in the web of defeat and isolation that has been spun largely by the upper classes.

We ourselves have created this issue.  As a society we have marginalized, ignored, and vilified those who didn’t measure up to our middle and upper class standards.  Even more importantly, we have failed to heed the words of the Great Teacher of some two thousand years ago when he said that we are to, first of all, love God with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and then just like that command, to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.  Corollaries to those teachings are the Golden Rule…do to others as you’d like others to do to you…and a host of other teachings that speak of sharing with those who don’t have, befriending the friendless, having compassion on the less fortunate, and seeing all people as children of God worthy of dignity and respect.

Greed and self-centeredness is front and center in our society.  Except we call it ambition and drive, and we celebrate it.  Our culture runs on it…feeds off of it.  And in so doing, we push aside and marginalize those who don’t fit into our cultural box.

I can’t do everything, but I can do something.  I can abide by the Golden Rule.  I can learn what it means to love my neighbor.  I can develop compassion for others.  I can change my attitude and my actions.  I can make a difference.  And you can too.

 

Blessings.

Connecting the Dots

 I am torn, in this Thursday Thought, between two topics (if you will) that have been in my mind these past few days.  One was my witnessing a simple act of kindness on a public street in Wichita toward a homeless wheelchair-bound woman.  The other was the monthly blog post by my friend in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Kendra Broekhuis, as she described something that happened in her immediate neighborhood.

I think that somehow, these two stories come together in some way…I just can’t seem to make them do so yet.  Hopefully, as I write this thought today, some of the pieces will fall into place.

The act of kindness came as I was walking along West Douglas a few days ago getting some exercise in the afternoon warmth.  As I walked toward a woman in a wheelchair coming toward me, I noticed the classic signs of homelessness in her as well as her inability to walk.  She had stopped, and was conversing with a couple of women outside an office building, asking them for directions to some place…I didn’t hear where.  The women, who I believe were on their break, assured her that she was on the right path.  As I passed the wheelchair, one of the office women asked if the lady would like her to push her across the next street, which was Waco.  The woman in the wheelchair readily and thankfully agreed.  As I continued on my way, I looked back a couple of times and noticed both women with the wheelchair lady, one of whom was pushing her.  I noticed they got her across the street ahead of them…then I lost sight of them.  Truly a random and simple act of kindness that crossed the socio-economic and class barriers.

The other event came through Kendra’s monthly blog where she described some goings-on in her immediate neighborhood that were both illegal and immoral.  She and her husband had contacted their city representatives and tried other ways to mitigate the situation with no results.  They had also contacted social service agencies and faith-based non-profits and received much the same response, or lack thereof.  It seemed there was no easy solution to the problem.

Kendra learned a hard lesson…that there often is no quick and straightforward answer to many of the societal ills of the day.  One of the faith-based ministries they had contacted for help with the issue responded to her in this email regarding helping women who are caught up in homelessness and human trafficking.

 

So that I don’t get your hopes up about immediate resolution, I want to give you a sense of the process of change: once a woman engages with our services, we begin working on her housing challenges if that is a reason she is on the street.  Because of the extreme lack of housing resources in our community, it can take 3-5 months to help a client access permanent housing.  If a client is open to shelter, that can usually be achieved in days to a couple of weeks.

There is a similar challenge with substance use treatment – the waiting lists for inpatient/residential treatment run 2-3 months out.  Thus, a person struggling with addiction and no safe housing often has very few immediate options.  However, we are assisting women every day to take the steps necessary to move into housing and treatment.  It just takes more time than any of us would wish due to the systemic scarcity of needed resources.

 

As Kendra thinks about what she has seen in her neighborhood and the incredible difficulty in finding and providing appropriate services, she has, she says, many more questions than she has answers.  Here are just some of those questions.  I’ve edited some of them so you can better understand them since I didn’t tell the entire story for you in this post.

 

·         If we never see the fruit of our work in the Kingdom, how do we know we’re even planting the right seeds?

·         What does it look like to care?

·         What does it look like to mistakenly believe we can fix something or someone?

·         What am I supposed to DO?  When do words become empty?  When does silence further the harm instead of help heal it?

·         Why are Christians surprised by mass exits from church?

·         Why are Christians surprised by women, the homeless, the minorities, and the marginalized being tired of the way they’re treated?

·         When do our conversations about grace forget to include accountability?

·         When do our conversations about accountability forget to include grace?

 

I still am not certain where and how these two stories…the one about  the random act of kindness, and the one about the goings-on in Kendra’s neighborhood…connect.  I’m thinking that one way they may connect is to recall that old statement attributed to Edward Everett Hale.  “I am only one, but I am one.  I cannot do everything, but I can do something.  And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.”

Sometimes those of us who work with parts of society who present with some kind of profound need become overwhelmed at the magnitude of both the problem and the proposed solution.  We come to the point that we say, “What IS the point?  Why am I paddling against the current?  What am I accomplishing here besides busy work?  I can’t fix this, and can barely put a band aid on, so to speak, enough to cover the need for a day or two.”

We can bring that idea down to these two events.  What did pushing the wheelchair lady a few hundred feet really accomplish?  Did it fix her homelessness or inability to walk?  Were those two women paddling against the current, so to speak, when they offered to help her?  Should they have done more?

And what about Kendra?  She and her husband have tried many different avenues to remedy a situation with no results.  And the prospects for real resolution apparently are slim to none, given the response of the one faith-based agency.  Have they been wasting their time?  Should they even be involved in the situation since what is going on in the neighborhood alleyway is said by some to be a “victimless” crime?

As Christians, we are told to plant the seeds of the Kingdom.  Some of us are also told to water those seeds and seedlings.  But that’s it as far as I can determine.  We’re not told to be concerned with how to assure results or even that we will know, or deserve to know, if our seed-planting and watering are having the desired effect.  We are just told to plant and water.  And leave the rest to God, who will give the increase.  And I think that applies well in both of these situations.

We can do something.  We can plant the seeds of the kingdom.  We can water them.  We may or may not ever see the increase God has assured will happen.  And we will have to be content with that.

Blessings.

 

"I Can Do Something"

 If you haven’t yet done so, go to YouTube and watch the longer, six minute version of the Nashville Police Department’s entrance into the Covenant School in order to track down and take down the killer of six innocent people.  You’ll probably find, as I did, the video difficult to watch, but do it anyway.

Now, I won’t say much about the seeming preponderance of these kinds of tragic events in our society in this post.  I won’t say much about the Second Amendment and all of the controversy that surrounds it.  I won’t even say much about what we should do to combat this kind of terror, at least in terms of all of the proposed “solutions” bandied about by the politicians..  My intention is to zero in on the actions of the men and women who, as the motto goes, “protect and serve,” as well as our individual responses to societal ills such as mass shootings.

Here are some takeaways from my watching the bodycam video.  I’ve never been trained as a police officer, so I cannot comment on the procedures they used.  I presume they knew what they were doing, and acted according to their training and policy.

Most striking to me is the first seconds of the video when the officer shouts, “Let’s go!” as he enters the building with other officers.  They know they are going into dangerous territory, and they know they will probably engage the shooter at some point.  They know they may be shot themselves, and possibly be killed in the line of duty.  Yet they run toward the danger while the rest of us are running away from it.

Second, they waste no time in finding the killer.  They literally run from room to room, clearing their way as they go.  And when they hear shots coming from the second floor, telling them where the killer is, they bound up the steps to engage.

Third, not just one officer, but several place themselves in harm’s way in order to mitigate a disaster and end a killing spree.  These officers apparently were well-trained.

Finally, I continually reminded myself while watching the video that this is not a movie.  This is not make-believe.  This is real life.  This is happening.  This is the way it is.  Real people have been killed.  The shooter was killed on camera for the world to see.  Families, friends, and loved ones are now dealing with the aftermath of the carnage.  The nation is again in mourning.

Just as is the case with other mass shootings, the inevitable political posturing, pontificating, and finger-pointing comes once again into our consciousness.  Everyone is an expert.  Everyone is a critic.  Everyone can say what the answer is not.

But no one, it seems, definitively knows what the answer is.

Oh, we may think we have the answer when we legislate our public schools to teach the NRA gun safety course or pass more stringent gun control laws.  We may think the answer is better mental health care at government expense or equipping school staff with firearms.  But  the truth is that none of these, well-intentioned as they may be, will fix the problem.  These things may put a band aid or two on the issue, but the underlying problem will still be there.

And for us ordinary folks, we feel helpless to do anything.  Passing gun control laws or equipping school staff with firearms isn’t anything we have any control over.  We can email our representatives, vote at the next election, and maybe even carry a sign on a sidewalk in front of the Capitol building, but that’s about the extent of our involvement.  And in any event, those things don’t fix anything in the here and now.  Mass shootings are, unfortunately, a daily occurrence.  So we go about our daily lives with a sort of a pall hanging over our heads as we ponder yet again another senseless and horrific act, wondering how it will all end.

Can I offer some advice for those of us who feel helpless and wonder when and where the next mass shooting will take place?  I don’t pretend to have the answers.  As I’ve often said, I’m not sure I even know the questions to ask.  But I do know this.  As my good friend Jennifer White has said in this famous quote generally attributed to Edward Everett Hale, “I can’t do everything, but I can do something.”  The full quote, based on quick research, seems to be this:  “I am only one, but I am…one.  I cannot do everything, but I can do something.  And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.”

So, what is the something we CAN do?  Perhaps it is communicating with our elected representatives and officials.  Maybe it is volunteering in our public schools.  It could be volunteering with a non-profit to help mitigate poverty and hunger or provide mental health care.  Maybe we could sign up with a non-profit to mentor kids.

And, for those of us who are people of faith, perhaps what we can do is live out our faith in our daily life and living.  Love God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength.  Love our neighbor as we love ourselves.  Let our speech always be showered with grace.  Offer a cup of cold water in the name of Jesus.  Do to others as we’d like others to do to us.  Go the extra mile.  Forgive others as we have been forgiven.  Do all that we can to live at peace with everyone.

And pray.  Petition the God of the universe.  Be persistent.  And be at peace with His response, whatever it may be.  And while we are praying, maybe we need to offer thanks to God that there are some in this world who will run toward danger in order to eliminate it while the rest of us run from it in safety.

 

Blessings,

Who Are Your Friends?

 

Good morning.

 I had a couple of visitors this week at the office.  Visitors I don’t see very often, but truly enjoy seeing when they are in the area.  We converse, laugh a bit, catch up a little on what’s going on, and generally enjoy being with each other for the brief time and brief visits we share.

Now, one would think that as someone well beyond Medicare years, I’m talking about others in or close to my age group.  But I’m not.  These visitors are both girls…sisters.  One is 12, “Soon to be 13,” as she says, and the other is 10.  They live many states away and only come to Kansas to see grand parents once in a while.  This week was spring break for them, so they made the trip…by air…on their own…to Kansas.

One of the grand parent units works at RiverWalk, so they will often accompany him here to the building for whatever reason while they’re staying with him.  And when they do, they head for the office, appear at my door, come in, plop down in the chairs, and we visit.  Our conversation is nothing important in itself, and they only stay a few minutes.  But those few minutes are golden, at least for me.

To tell you that it does my heart good to see them and visit with them is a great understatement.  My day has just become much brighter following their visit.  I bask in the glow of that visit for days after.  These girls are bright, witty, comfortable in themselves, and seem to have a good handle on what is important in life.  They remind me yet again that not all young people are self-centered, into-themselves drones living in the cyber-world to the exclusion of reality.  They remind me yet again of the importance of inter-generational relationship and communication.  They remind me yet again of the importance of human contact and the value of fostering friendships, especially with people who aren’t at all like me.

I don’t know who watches this video.  I don’t know who you are, and I certainly don’t know who is in your circle of friends and acquaintances.  But I do know some things about friends and friendships, just based on my years of life and living.  It has been said that if a person has four other people who they can truthfully call a friend, that person is blessed.  Many people have no one who they can count as a true friend, and many others have but one or maybe two.  Many don’t even count a spouse or life partner as a friend, which I have great difficulty understanding.

Additionally, it is good to have intergenerational friendships and connections.  Such relationships tend to broaden your view of the world today and promote a better understanding of varying ideological, social, philosophical, and religious viewpoints.  To interact only with people who think like you regarding politics, religion, or societal issues is, in my view, narrow-minded and it inhibits mental and emotional growth.

I only need to remember that these girls who occasionally visit, and who I occasionally hear about via social media, have always known of smart phones and instant, world-wide communication, and that for these girls, 9-11 is a distant historical event.  They’ve never known of a president other than Mr. Trump or Mr. Biden.  They may have heard of Mr. Obama, but aren’t old enough to have much information about him.  Flat-screen TV’s had already been around awhile when the older girl was born.  Truly these young people have a world view that is markedly different from mine.  So, the fact that they seem to want to see me, and I them whenever they’re in town seems all the more remarkable to me.

I can, and do learn from these kinds of relationships.  I think they make me a better person.  I think they help my physical well-being as well as my emotional well-being.  And I think that having relationships such as this benefit society, even if only in a small way.

A suggestion I have for you is to take stock of those with whom you have a relationship.  Who are your true friends?  Who are acquaintances?  Who are those who are of benefit to you and you to them, and who are those who are a detriment to you, and you to them?  Maybe it’s time for you to do some house cleaning, so to speak, turn over a new leaf (as the saying goes), and work at developing and fostering relationships that are mutually beneficial.

This post has no overt Biblical teaching; however, friendships, relationships, and good teaching regarding those subjects permeate Holy Scripture from Genesis through Revelation.  Look for them when you’re doing your daily devotions or study.

 

Blessings…

We Are the Ones

 Over the more recent years, many of us have been participants in social media.  Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or whatever may float one’s boat, many of us take part in one or more of these social get-togethers.  I myself do only Facebook.  I know that platform is quickly becoming an “old person’s” platform, but I don’t care…I’m an old person.  And, I’d rather not have to be conjuring up the different platforms daily to see who I might miss or who may have tried to contact me.  One does nicely for me, thank you.

Yes, I also message on Facebook.  Yes, I text on my phone.  Yes, I email sometimes.  And I even make the occasional audio phone call, surprise, surprise !!  It’s enough for me, and on some days, it’s even a bit too much so I just ignore one or more of them.

Social media has received a lot of vitriol, Congressional investigations, lawsuits, and other assorted criticisms lately.  Some of it, I suppose, is merited.  Some is not, I would think.  Yes, algorithms steer one to places where one may not be edified appropriately.  Yes, children can be especially vulnerable.  I believe, however, that in at least some of these cases, one makes one’s own bed (so to speak) by leading the algorithm, purposely or not, to believe one really wants to see the stuff that’s presented.  And insofar as children are concerned, most kids have parents who are supposed to look out for their welfare, including where they go and what they do online. That old adage of “garbage in…garbage out” certainly applies here. 

YouTube is a great example of that adage.  You want to see police chase videos?  Just click on a couple of them and 138 more will show up on your page waiting for you to click on them.  Want to see old fashioned four-part acappella harmony hymn singing?  Just find a couple of them and click on them.  You’ll get a whole drawer full of similar videos to choose from.  Want to see videos of judges getting angry in a courtroom?  Click on a few and see what happens to your feed.  Like railroad videos?  You know the drill…just click on a few of them and lo and behold, about 353 more show up.

But one of the best things about social media, and I AM talking Facebook here, since that’s the only one of these kinds of things I use, is that one can be in contact with friends and relatives who are physically far away, but on line are as near as one’s phone or laptop.  We have the amazing ability to laugh, cry, celebrate, pray with, be concerned about, and generally take part in a friend or loved-one’s life to the extent that they will allow us to do so through posts, photos, memes, and messages.

I have several Facebook friends and relatives that I will, in all probability, never physically see again in my lifetime.  I cherish those relationships, however, almost as much as those relationships borne out of physical proximity to one-another.  Through social media, I have both given and received comfort, advice, counsel, news, and whatever else that can be transmitted through the written word or photos.  I have walked with dear friends that I hadn’t seen in decades as they bravely fought…then succumbed to terminal illness.  I have received great advice in life and living from those I love through social media.  I have shared celebrations, weddings, children, birthdays, tears of joy as well as sorrow, and a host of other emotions and thoughts through the Internet.  I have followed individuals and families as they moved from one location to another, one job to another, one tragedy to another, one joy to another.

Just as is with anything else, social media is neither right or wrong…neither good or bad.  It just is.  It’s what we do with it…how we use it (or abuse it) that is the thing.  Just like Fentanyl, it can be used for good…for comfort and healing…or for bad…for tragedy and death.  Social media is, in large part, what we make of it, in my humble opinion.

All too often, I think, we blame the thing for our societal ills and ailments rather than blame the ones who make the thing the way it is…ourselves.  We are quick to say, “Not my fault,” and point our ragged fingers at someone or something else rather than take a long, hard look at the part we played in making some thing like Facebook or YouTube what it is.

And while we’re pointing fingers, let’s also understand that we are the ones who have made government dysfunctional, chaotic and deeply in debt.  We are the ones who have made our schools reel under the weight of having to do so much more with our children than teaching the three R’s.  We are the ones who have made relationships with other humans toxic and abusive.  We are the ones who have made our society greedy and self-centered.  And we are the ones who have made our world an often difficult and dangerous place.  Yes, we are the ones.

We are also the ones who can take to heart the universal command to do unto others as we would have others do unto us.  We are the ones who can take to heart the universal command to love one-another.  We are the ones who can take to heart the universal admonition to be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another.

The finger is pointing right at you, my friend.  For what reason is it pointing in your direction?

 

Blessings,

Sonya's Story

 I have a friend who I’ll call Sonya.  Sonya and I have known each other for over ten years.  We first met shortly after she got herself clean from dope, exited a safe house to get away from an abuser, and set up her own apartment.  The woman who operated the safe house put me in touch with Sonya because she needed to have some repairs made to her apartment that the landlord wouldn’t do.  At the time, I was doing things like that for people who otherwise couldn’t afford to hire someone, working through people like the safe house woman.

Our friendship continued over these past years as Sonya continued to climb out of the hole she had dug for herself.  She eventually qualified for and found work as a counselor for a recovery center, and continued over the years to come back into the mainstream of society.  She now is buying a home, has transportation, a good job with the county health department, and is helping others who are where she once was.

Sonya contacted me a couple of days ago and asked if I had time to talk.  I immediately called her, and found out that she had been in an auto accident the evening before.  Someone had made a left turn in front of her and ran into the front of her car.  The woman who did this did not have a license to drive, was an illegal immigrant, and didn’t own the car she was driving.  Additionally, the woman who made the turn accused Sonya of speeding when she filled out the police report, rather than taking responsibility for what she had done.

Sonya was devastated.  Her vehicle was totaled.  She needs transportation for her job.  She was in the process of buying the car she was driving…a nicer, newer car she had purchased a couple of years ago.  As is often the case, she owed more on the car than the depreciated value was.  She also tried to rent a car, but none in a price range she could afford were available.

Additionally, although she didn’t present to the emergency room, she was bruised up and sore because the air bags went off in her car and she was shaken up.  She says the soreness isn’t just muscle soreness…that it feels different.  It was a tough day for her all around.

Sonya did have full coverage with a thousand dollars deductible for collision.  And she had a rider on her policy that would pay the difference between what the car was valued at and what she owed.  She did not, however, have rental car insurance as she was unaware of its availability on her policy.

Although the owner of the other vehicle had insurance, that policy would not cover an unlicensed, undocumented driver.  Neither the owner or the driver have any resources to speak of, so Sonya is pretty much on her own using her own insurance as best she can, bruised and sore, missing work to find a rental car she can afford, and now having to look for another vehicle and starting over on paying the loan at an interest rate that is going to be double what the other interest rate was on the car that was totaled.  She has no down payment, nothing to trade in on another car, and will somehow have to come up with the thousand dollar deductible.

The woman at Sonya’s insurance said she couldn’t tell her what to do, but discreetly suggested that Sonya contact an injury attorney, which Sonya said she would do.  She also has seen her medical provider in lieu of going to the emergency room.  Sonya’s insurance has also opened up a personal injury claim for her.

OK, I tell you this story to let you know just how much someone’s actions can affect the life of someone else.  I don’t intend to make this a diatribe on immigration or illegal immigrants.  I readily confess I don’t know what to do, if anything, about that situation.  As I’ve often said about other issues of the day, I don’t know the answers here and don’t even know what questions to ask.  What I do know is that Sonya’s well-being and possibly her health were deeply, negatively affected by this woman who shouldn’t have been here under present law.  Sonya was also deeply negatively affected by someone who allowed the woman to drive his vehicle even though she had no license to drive and was not insured.

Sonya will get through this.  She’s as tough as nails as far as life and living are concerned.  She’s been through it all, and has come out on the other side as a woman who not only has survived, but has thrived.  This incident will not stop her, even though it will slow  her down a bit temporarily.

People, you probably aren’t someone like the woman who hit Sonya’s car.  But, just like her, you need to understand that the things you do affect not only you, but have a ripple effect that touches others in ways you may well never be aware of.  I’ve had a few vehicle accidents in my long driving history.  Some were my fault…some not.  I’ve often thought, especially for those accidents where I was at fault, of the additional work, time, and energy that the person I collided with would have to go through to make things whole again.  Insurance claims.  Car repair.  Rental vehicles.  Time off of work.  The list goes on.

And this effect upon others isn’t just something that happens with auto accidents.  Any time you interact with someone else, you affect their life in some way.  It may be very subtle.  It may not even be noticeable.  But it’s there.  Just be aware of that and act accordingly.  Take to heart the words of Jesus as he counseled us to love our neighbor and to treat others as we would like to be treated.

May your day be blessed.

I Am A Teacher

 Once in a while I have the opportunity to observe or interact with those much, much younger than myself.  We have grand kids…the oldest of whom is 16.  The youngest will be 2 before long.  I also see kids at church, or in the playground at the park behind our house.  I see them in yards playing.  I also see them on television, especially during sports reporting of local high school sports.  We have great nieces and nephews, as well as friends with kids.  So, it isn’t unusual at all for us to interact in some way with some of them.

Sometimes when I’m with kids, or observing kids, I think about what may well be ahead of them in their lifetimes.  None of them know about the black dial telephone hanging on the wall.  None of them know about having to have an operator connect a long distance call for them.  None of them are cognizant of pre-Internet days or cars without air conditioning or seat belts.  None were alive when the Murrah Building was bombed in Oklahoma City or the aircraft rammed the Pentagon and the Twin Towers.  The 1967 Israeli/Egyptian war was distant history.  Viet Nam and the military draft are likewise distant and often faint history.

They weren’t around when the polio vaccine was first introduced or the first heart bypass surgery was performed.  They have no knowledge of the first heart transplant or the first heart/lung machine that was developed to keep someone alive.  And they have that blank look when one mentions the words “iron lung” to them.

What they do know is instant everything.  Phones that do a hundred thousand times more than make phone calls.  Internet everywhere.  Instant information.  Televisions that are bigger, better, and cheaper than anything that was manufactured just a few decades ago.  Cars that drive themselves.  Routine heart, lung, liver, kidney, and other organ transplants.  Vaccines for a host of illnesses.  Work from home.  School from home.

They know, or should know about the rise of China on the world scene.  They should know about Afghanistan and the plight of women and children there.  The European Union, Taiwan, the U.S. Space Force, and a woman of color in the Vice Presidency should be in their knowledge base.

But I don’t dwell on all of this when I’m interacting with or observing kids today.  I know many of them will live to see the year 2100.  Most all of them will see most of the 21^st Century.  What will they see?  What will they experience?  What will be the state of our nation, our government, the world order, the environment, space travel, and the economy?  Will someone have dropped “The Bomb” by then and will have brought to reality MAD (Mutual Assured Destruction)?  Will we have found the secret to fusion to create the energy we will need?  What plants and animals will become extinct in the next 50 to 80 years?

I don’t have answers for any of these things.  But I often persist in asking the questions.  And as a part of this thing I do, I sometimes evaluate my role in all of this.  Do I talk of the “ancient history” of the dial telephone or the iron lung to my grand kids and any others who might listen?  Do I speak of the centuries-long animosity between the Jews and Arabs and how that affects us all?  Am I contributing to the demise of some species of plants and animals?  Am I doing my part to make my part of the world a better place?  Is it even possible for me to have some kind of positive effect on the China/Taiwan situation or the plight of women and children in Afghanistan?  Can I have any positive effect on homelessness or poverty just outside my door in my community?  Am I having that positive effect now?  Or am I coasting along just waiting to check out, leaving it to others?

If you’ll notice, I’ve not said anything of a spiritual nature so far.  But I dare not leave that subject un-addressed.  Because while I am asking these questions, I also think of the spiritual lives of these kids.  What, if anything, are they being exposed to in a spiritual sense?  Are they beginning to understand, at least intellectually, that they aren’t going to live forever?  That some day they will die, and that if the Bible is correct, they will meet their God in an afterlife?  That some of them will die sooner than they ever thought?  Do they know that God loves them, and wants them to freely return that love?

Do they know and heed the Golden Rule, the First and Greatest Commandment and the One that is Like It, and the admonition to be kind to one-another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another?  Have they, or if younger, will they some day take to heart the words of John 3:16?

Will they have the courage to do the right thing, even in the face of criticism or pushback?  Will they deal honestly, speak gently, and live uprightly?

The upcoming generations have a tall order to fill.  In many ways, I’m glad I’m not part of that.  I’ve pretty much done my life and living.  Hopefully, I have some years left, and I know I have work yet to do.  I trust our generations have taught well, led by example, and are leaving a world that will serve them faithfully as they serve others in humility.

May God bless us older folks as we continue to teach the younger, and may He bless those upcoming generations as they assume their place in the creation.

 

Blessings,