It is said that Will Rogers once said, “Don’t let yesterday use up too much of today.” While I think it’s probably accurate that Mr. Rogers originated this quote, I’m not 100%, so don’t skewer me if that happens to be wrong. In any event, the point is the quote, not the one who said it.

I saw this quote on a church billboard sign this evening. It hit me like a ton of bricks. How much and how often do we let the things that have already come and gone determine what we will do today…tomorrow…next week. Yes, I know that we have memories in part so we can learn from our experiences. Touch a hot stove once and you won’t touch it again. That’s experience. But sometimes we go way overboard and don’t come within 50 feet of a hot stove just because we got burned on one long, long ago. That kind of “learning” is not healthy, yet it pervades the psyches of many of us.

What do we have to do to let go? What does it take for us to look ahead instead of behind? How can we possibly put into practice what the great Apostle Paul said about “Forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal of the prize (Phil. 3:13)?”

I don’t think this is an easy, 1-2-3 thing. I’ve struggled with this all my life, and continue to struggle with it to this day. I am miserable, at times, in my memories and how they affect what I do today. Maybe I can justify my apprehensions by saying that I’ve been stung before in both work and in relationships, and I’m just being careful. But I have a feeling that is just a cop-out and there’s something else going on here that isn’t healthy.

One of our ministers a few days ago said in class (Thanks for the plug, Scott.) that he enjoyed my blog in part because it was so positive. One reason why is that I have found that writing positive things helps with this very problem. That isn’t enough, however. There’s something else at work here…something I’m missing.

“Be not dismayed, whate’er betide; God will take care of you. Beneath His wings of love abide; God will take care of you.” Is that it? Is that what I’m missing? Do I practice what I preach, or do I just mouth the words? Is my life real, or is it Memorex (apologies to those who aren’t old enough to remember this ad quote.)? Do I have a relationship with God, or am I like Adam in the picture? At this point, I just don’t know.

Hope

When was the last time that the national anthem of the United States was played in North Korea? For that matter, when was the last time that a symphony orchestra from the United States played in North Korea? Well, with that last question, you know that I’m on to something, and I am.

Today at 6pm Pyongyang local time, the Star Spangled Banner was played by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in the East Pyongyang Grand Theater. You can see the video at http://nyphil.org/about/virtualTours/0708/korea/slideshow/video_0226.cfm

This was indeed a first. I don’t know the last time the national anthem of the U.S. was played in North Korea in a public venue, if it ever was. And never before has a group this large come to North Korea to share a cultural and arts exchange. This was truly an historic occasion.

We are still technically at war with this nation. We are observing a cease-fire, but no permanent peace has ever been consummated. The nation starves her citizens, elevates those governing to the status of gods, causes turmoil and friction in the area and around the world, tries to destabilize our currency through counterfeiting, and generally is a not-very-good nation in the world.

I believe, however, that it is through efforts such as this that some kind of thaw will eventually come. Where politicians and diplomats fail to succeed, someone with a conductor’s baton, or someone who plays violin, timpani, or brass, will succeed in some way to create and open a crack in the armor.

And heavens! The Star Spangled Banner? In North Korea? In public? For the first time, I have hope.

Learning to Live

It is said that everyone does something to ease the pain. Whatever the pain, whatever the cause, whatever it is that people do, everyone does something. You may be asking what prompted me to write about this? “What pain?” you ask. “What in the world are you talking about…easing the pain?”

I think most people recognize that life comes with pain, but do different things to help ease it. Some turn to drugs, whether legal or illegal. Others seek relief in relationships. Still others have hobbies, or are work-a-holics. Some resort to religion, mysticism, or some kind of spirituality. As many things as you can think of, those are things that people do to mask the pain…to make life and living tolerable.

I know that I write when I feel the need. As I’ve said before, I don’t really care if anyone reads what I’ve written or not, I find a comfort and peace in writing, whether religious articles, or things like this. It makes things better. I also like to listen to good music. That helps, at times. And I like to be with others who I know will accept me for who I am and not try to make me into what they’d like me to be.

Some people, though, deny that they are in pain. They pretend that everything is hunky-dory (I wonder where THAT expression came from), and go through life in denial. Still others say that there is no pain. They not only deny that they are in pain, they deny that pain exists. They, too, wonder through life in some kind of delusional state, claiming a falsehood as a truth and staking their well-being on the same. These people, by their denial, actually validate the fact that they are in pain and are trying to do something to ease it.

Life in this fallen world is for many of us a wonderful existence. For many others, it’s a struggle to breathe and find enough calories and water to make it through the day. Regardless of our lot in life, we all have times, situations, and circumstances that from time to time cause us some kind of life-pain, whether physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual. It’s this…the pain that naturally results from living…that I’m talking about.

I’ve used this before, but will do so again. The song “The Rose” by Amanda McBroom has as it’s second verse,

It's the heart, afraid of breaking That never learns to dance

It's the dream, afraid of waking That never takes the chance

It's the one who won't be taken Who cannot seem to give

And the soul, afraid of dying That never learns to live

Such are those, I believe, who either deny they are in pain or deny that pain exists. We never really learn to live until we cease to be afraid…afraid of the pain that this imperfect life gives us. And once we’ve learned to no longer be afraid…to deal with the pains and setbacks that life hands us, then we’ve also learned to live.

For What It Is

Yesterday was an almost perfect day. Now, before you skewer me with whatever it is that you like to use, because your day wasn’t at all perfect, let me explain.

The day had been gray and cloudy. There was some spritzing drizzle, etc. through out the day. Later on in the afternoon, an unexpected snow shower left everything covered in velvety, delicate snowflakes. There was no wind during the snow. The temperature was just right for large, fat flakes of wet snow to fall and cover everything in a couple of inches of pristine white.

Those kinds of snows don’t happen often. Far more often, there’s a howling wind out of the northwest, and it’s so cold that a penguin wouldn’t make it very long outside. The snow piles up in drifts and leaves fields bare. It doesn’t make for a very pretty picture.

But yesterday…that snow was one that defied all of the odds here in Kansas and provided us with a glimpse of what surely was the handiwork of God. I can just imagine Him saying something to the effect of, “These folks have had enough blowing and drifting. I think I’ll just give ‘em the perfect snow.”

The sad part of it is, I don’t think very many people appreciated the beauty. I think most probably griped and grumbled at having to deal one more time with slick streets and snowy sidewalks. It seems that anymore, to just stop and enjoy the view is something not many folks do.

Don’t wait until it’s too late. Stop sometimes, whether it snows, rains, or the sun shines, and just enjoy the view. Notice what is “out there” and make it your purpose to take it in and enjoy it for what it is.

Renewal

Today is Saturday. It’s been awhile since I’ve written. And I really don’t have much today to say. It’s a rather lazy day, gray and cloudy. We saw the sun for a few brief hours yesterday, but otherwise it’s been this way for the past several days, and looks to be this way for the next while.

Times like this make me less than energetic. I want to sleep more, move less, and generally be a lazy bum. My disposition becomes as sluggish as my body. Anything I do is an effort, and procrastination seems to grab hold.

This is nothing that a little sun and warmth can’t cure. Meanwhile, I have to work a little harder to keep going. I have to make myself do things. I have to work to smile at others that I meet.

The days are getting longer. The weather is moderating. Tornado season in this part of our nation officially begins just 5 weeks from now. Before long, it will be time to plant, prune, and mow. Spring will be here, and we will again see the results of a God that lovingly cares for His creation. There will be renewal and refreshment.

Already, I’m feeling better just writing about the spring to come. It will be here before we know it, and will give us all a glimpse of the once-for-all renewal that will come to all creation at some time to come.

The Great Outdoors

As we drove out to Western Kansas last weekend, I remarked as we left Lyons that the terrain and the “look” of the land would gradually become different as we went west. Around Rice County, the terrain and look of the land is much as it is in the Wichita area, but as one travels toward Great Bend and beyond, it gradually changes from cultivated to grassland, trees to treeless, man-made to natural. By man-made to natural, I mean that there gradually is a lessening of buildings, power lines, vehicles, etc. as one travels westward.

Sure enough, the transformation was gradual, but very plain. Ellenwood, Great Bend, LaCrosse, Hays, and on out on I-70, the terrain became more open and big, grass was in abundance, and the great outdoors was never more evident than in Western Kansas.

There’s something about that kind of environment that makes me feel rather small and insignificant. There’s something about looking at the sky at night and seeing nothing but black punctuated by thousands of points of light that makes me wonder at it all. There’s something about the way the scene just opens up and envelopes me that makes me feel like I’m an integral part of it.

Next time you go west, don’t just count the minutes until you get to Denver. Take a little time and see what’s out there. Look at that part of the creation with renewed eyes and an humble heart. Spend some time and energy seeing the small as well as the enormous. Then visit with some of the locals and get a human viewpoint on where you are. I think you’ll like what you see and will have a fresh appreciation of the God who made it all.

Past and Present

We took a trip this past weekend to Western Kansas where we used to live. On the way, we stopped to see the wife’s family and stayed overnight with her Dad. He’s an old man, but lives at home and seems to be in good shape. He drives, gets around, and knows his mind.

While with him, we went to the local café for an evening meal, then again for coffee the next day. As I sat there looking around, I recalled times years ago when I was there, and noticed that there wasn’t a lot of change in that time. There is still a neon sign at the back of the restaurant saying they serve the local creamery’s ice cream. The creamery hasn’t been in business for probably 50 years or more but the sign is still there. The building, furnishings, and arrangements of tables is pretty much as it always has been, at least as I knew it.

There’s something about going back and finding that things haven’t changed that much that is refreshing as well as comforting. I know that one of these days, that ice cream sign won’t be there. That will probably come the day the café no longer exists. But at least for now, I know that I can go somewhere and find the past, even as I live in the present.

It's Time

How would you feel if a family in Wichita, Kansas sold their sixteen year old mentally challenged girl to an acquaintance of theirs? The acquaintance held a grudge against Towne West Shopping Center. The acquaintance strapped a bomb onto the body of the girl, sent her into the shopping center, and detonated the bomb by remote control, killing all who were within 150 feet of her. The girl never knew what happened.

How would your community feel? How would this nation feel? What kind of news coverage do you think there would be? What kind of new laws would legislators want to pass? How many inquiries, inquests, and other formal hearings would be held?

And what of punishment for the acquaintance? What punishment would be appropriate? The death penalty? Life without parole? Put on a rocket and sent to outer space?

Such events happen (and recently have happened) in the Middle East. Al Quaeda used this tactic recently to kill 99 innnocents. See http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,327445,00.html for the story.

What should our response be? Should we say that it’s in another country and so doesn’t concern us? Should we read a story or two about it and remark how bad the world is today? Or should we as a society, as a nation, determine to let the world know that these atrocities will not stand, and that those responsible will be held accountable?

The United States long has been the champion of the oppressed. We have, and are the most generous nation on the face of the earth. Even though we tread carefully at times, and our record is not perfect, we step in to right a wrong, correct an injustice, or secure liberty for a citizenry.

If for no other, this is reason enough for us to confront this evil. This is reason enough to expend our national resources, both human and monetary. This is reason enough to be actively engaged in the societies of the nations that permit this.

And this is reason enough (if the Great Commission isn’t enough) for the Church to do its part, confronting evil, overcoming evil with good, and engaging in the spiritual war that has claimed far too many souls for the Evil One.

Something Good Has Happened Here

This morning we had, as we do every Sunday, church services. As we began the service, one of the young women who used to be with us at the children’s home came up and sat with us. We hadn’t seen her in awhile, and she left the home under less-than-ideal circumstances. She’s now living with her boy friend, she says, and says she’s doing OK.

During the “meet and greet” portion of the service, another girl who used to be at the home came up to see us. She’s now caring for her grandfather, who is suffering from terminal cancer.

During the time between the services and Sunday School, and later after everything was over, I got a chance to visit with some of the girls who are still at the home. Most we know, having lived with them. One or two came since we had to move away, but they still greet us and talk with us.

It’s times like this that I ache to be back in that life. These girls have so much potential and have so much going for them. They need guidance, structure, and direction. But most of all, they need someone to hear them. Not just hear the words they say, but hear what they’re saying underneath the words that they say openly. I think Pat and I did a good job of that. I think we validated their feelings and ideas, even if we disagreed with them. I think we withheld judgment and affirmed their person-ness and their worth as individuals. And I think they understood that and appreciated that.

I’m not saying that they aren’t getting that now. I don’t know what they are getting. But I do know that in spite of their snits with one-another, in spite of how tired we were, in spite of our disappointment sometimes in the actions of the girls, in spite of their bad grades and bad choices, we listened. We validated. We affirmed. We loved.

Oh, the girl who made the choice to sit with us this morning? She’s the one we had the most trouble with while she was staying at the home. She’s the one that consumed most of our strength and energy. She’s the one who just didn’t seem to get it. And now she chooses to sit with us. She, by that action, has validated us. She, by that action, has affirmed us. Something good has happened here. I’m overwhelmed.

It Is What It Is

We had our final life safety inspection today at the new nursing facility where I recently went to work as Director of Environmental Services. There is always something that needs to be re-done in inspections such as this, and today was no exception. However, there were a couple of things during this process today upon which I’d like to comment.

First, it seems that people sometimes have a hard time understanding that when they’re asked to do something by someone in authority, that person means exactly what he/she says. One of our sub-contractors had not performed an inspection on the fire suppression kitchen hoods over our stoves. They had done the installation and the check sheet that they normally do with the install, but no inspection was done because, “We don’t do inspections on new equipment.”

The Fire Marshal was polite, but said several times that he needed an inspection report, and that the installation report wasn’t adequate. The owner of the business repeated that directive a couple of times, as did I. Finally, the sub contractor “got it” and said that he would do an inspection, even though I know without a doubt that he was thinking, “This is a new installation. Why do I have to do an inspection?”

The answer to his non-verbal question is simply, “Because the authority is requiring it.” It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to the sub contractor or not. It doesn’t matter if anyone else wants it done or not. It doesn’t matter if it’s a brand new system that doesn’t really have anything to “inspect.” The fact is, it is required and the authority (the one with the badge and the force of law) is the one who is requiring it.

Second, it would be quite helpful if people would not take it upon themselves to make changes to the plans and specifications without consultation. Some of that happened in this construction, and we now have to go back and make those things right. The cost will be much more now that the project is complete, and people are going to be inconvenienced. The plans should have been followed.

Third, I’ve been working with government for about 20 years, now. Rules and regulations are there for a reason, even if that reason may not be apparent to the general public Joe Schmo. It is unproductive and just plain not a good idea to try to bargain with these people. They don’t care if it costs an arm and a leg to comply. They don’t care if we obtain our license to operate next week or next year. They don’t care if we have to tear out walls and dig up the floor. They expect us to follow the rules of construction and operation as clearly spelled out in both the Kansas regulations as well as CMS (Medicare) regulations. And if we don’t, well, that’s a shame.

And so we have some things to correct. I think all in all we did OK. We learned, and hopefully won’t make the same mistakes next time. And, after all, isn’t that what experience is all about?

The Unattainable

“Gentlemen, we are going to relentlessly chase perfection, knowing full well we will not catch it, because nothing is perfect. But we are going to relentlessly chase it, because in the process we will catch excellence. I am not remotely interested in just being good.”

So, according to Parade magazine (February 3, 2008, page 8), said Vince Lombardi 50 years ago to his new team, the Green Bay Packers.

Although this was said in the context of a football team (and a darned good one, I might add), think about what Mr. Lombardi said and apply it to life…your life. Think about what those of us as Christians are called to do — “Be perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect” — and how what Mr. Lombardi said could help as we struggle with the unattainable, yet firm and clear command.

The great apostle Paul of Tarsus talks more than once about running the race, looking toward the prize at the end, and finishing the course. To “relentlessly chase” perfection is to run the race without fainting. We go even when we’re tired. We continue even though we are discouraged. We press on even though we are beaten down.

To “relentlessly chase” perfection is also to look at the prize in the end. We have a goal in mind. We have a prize we covet. We have a gift we cherish.

We also “relentlessly chase” perfection when we finish the course. We dare not quit in the middle of the race. We cannot sit along the side and let others go by. We need the courage to finish, even when reason and logic tell us it isn’t worth it.

And we should never be remotely interested in just being good. To be good is not good enough. To be perfect is our goal. And as long as we are given breath and life from the one who commanded perfection, we struggle, strive, push and strain for the unattainable, yet mandated. And as long as we are in this home of imperfection, we continue to look to the one who is the I AM for the grace of perfection, even in our imperfection.

It All Comes Down to This

Well, a whole week has come and gone since the last blog. Sorry. It’s been hectic at work, and when I get home, I don’t feel like doing much of anything. It’ll calm down before long, but until then, I’ll probably not write much during the week.

I was out helping direct cars in the parking lot at the new nursing home last night. It was my job to help people coming to the open house find parking spaces and get them in the right doors of the building. The weather was cold, but I had lots of clothing on and was doing just fine. The open house for the professionals (invitation only) was from 5:30 to 7:30pm. That’s when I was helping in the parking lot.

I was standing there listening to and looking at the traffic on Maize road, which goes by our place of work, during a time when no one was coming in. I started thinking how in the world I went through fifty-some years of life, and more moves and jobs than I care to count, just to end up in a parking lot greeting the mucky mucks who came for the festivities.

At about that time, the setting sun came out from behind a cloud bank that had been overhead all day and had dropped four inches of snow on us earlier. It briefly shone and lit up everything with that reddish-orange glow that comes from a setting sun. And somehow (you’re gonna think I’m strange) I knew that this was the place where I was supposed to be and this was what I was supposed to be doing at this time.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, and all ended well. But for just a brief moment, I got the distinct feeling that there was something or someone bigger than I who knew that I was standing there and that I was wondering about how it all came down to this.

Next week we have the state fire marshal inspection and the state nursing home inspector. It’ll be another hectic week.

Writing Cramps

I don’t write well, sometimes. Although I like the written word and like to put words together to form thoughts that hopefully communicate the intangible, but real to others, I’m not really that good at it. But sometimes I do better than others.

I usually write better in the morning. Now it is late afternoon and I feel a little pushed to get this written, even though I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of days now. In the evening or at night, it seems that I just can’t get words out that make any sense at all.

Sometimes, though, in the morning hours, I can start writing at the computer about little of nothing and watch as it turns into something that I think is rather good. It’s almost as if I’m watching someone else write, but of course, it’s I who am writing. Those times tend to come rather infrequently now, but when they do come, it’s a blessing.

I still have the papers I did in college, at least the ones I did at OCU. When I read them again, I think, “Did I really write that?” Of course I did, but I have little clue how those thoughts came into my head to put down on paper. The writing is not as polished as it is now (I wrote those papers in the early 1980’s), but the thoughts are as if they came from outer space somewhere. I don’t know how else to say that.

I save all of my writing now. All of my bulletin articles from Oakley, the things I write to others in answer to questions or discussion of things (thanks, Kathy), and these blogs are all on my PC. I also have things I wrote while in the ministry in Topeka that no one else has seen. These writings are my way to sort out things and make things clearer in my mind.

I think that’s why I like the blog. I don’t really care if anyone else reads this or not. It’s for me and my thoughts. However, if others benefit from it or enjoy it in some way, that’s all the better.

I’ll probably never make any money writing. My sister is a much better writer than I am when it comes to writing things that might sell. I don’t think she’s sold or published anything yet, but I think it would be worth a shot for her sometime. She’s also a musician and cook, as well as school psychologist, mom, wife, and friend. She has a plethora (as she would say) of experience from which to glean. Maybe she’ll do some of that gleaning some time.

Grateful

The work week is over for me. I am working the conventional days and hours right now, and am looking forward to not having to wake up to an alarm tomorrow morning. We’ve worked hard at the new nursing home and my muscles are complaining about it. But it’s been good work, and I am glad and grateful I have the work.

It would be so easy to complain about having to unload and unpack so many boxes of furniture and equipment. It would be easy to complain about having to go to work early this morning because a truck was coming in early and needed to be unloaded. It would be easy to complain about the upcoming week and the stresses that will undoubtedly be there.

However, there will be no complaining here because I know what it’s like to not have work. I know what it’s like to stay home while everyone else goes to work. I know what it’s like to have to explain to someone why I’m not working when it seems everyone else is.

I’m grateful for the job and for the work. It’s work I can do and work that I can enjoy. It’s also work that I appreciate having and thank God for allowing me to be healthy enough to do it.

So, although this weekend is also very much appreciated, I’ll enjoy getting up early and going in on Monday. And if you just think about it a minute or so, I think you’ll also appreciate the work God has given you to do and your ability to do it.

Last Friday morning as I headed into work, I noticed the sun just peeking over the horizon. There was a layer of clouds above the sun, so it was shining orange-red light under the clouds, illuminating them all the way across the sky. The illumination was brighter, of course, closer to the sun, but it was obvious that even the clouds to the far west were receiving some of the orange-red light. As the sun rose further, the clouds hid it and the phenomenon went away.

I’ve not seen that kind of sunrise (or sunset) often, but a few times have been fortunate enough to see it. One morning in Oakley, I was coming home after a bad storm during the night. The power had been knocked out at the nursing home, and flooding was occurring in a rear door. I looked to the east and saw the sun peeking through the slot just below a shelf of clouds that covered the rest of the sky. There was another rainstorm to the west of where I was, and I saw a rainbow (that’s right, a rainbow) to the west in that storm cloud, just for a few brief moments of time under the cloud shelf.

I’ve never seen such a thing before, and don’t think I’ll ever have the privilege of seeing one like that again. First, how many times have you seen a rainbow to the west of your location? Second, how many times have you seen a rainbow under a shelf of clouds?

The sky can bring wonder to the human mind, and if one looks up once in a while, can bring joy and peace, knowing that things are working as they were ordered to work. The sky can also let us know that we aren’t as all-fired important as we sometimes think we are, and that there are things we have not yet learned to control.

And don’t get me started on the night sky. It’s a wonderland of its own, and has recently been brought to dazzling clarity with the Hubble telescope and other advanced optical equipment. Active volcanoes in the solar system? We have pictures of them actively spouting. Water in the form of ice elsewhere besides earth? Comet dust? We’ve brought some of that back to earth. Close-ups of asteroids? We have that. A comet crashing into a planet? We have photos of that as it happened. Conundrums that challenge, puzzle, and mystify scientists and physicists of all persuasions and stripes? You can see the same things they see and marvel just like they do.

Take a tour of some of those web sites sometime. I think you’ll come away with a renewed appreciation for this creation we inhabit.

Which Is It?

Bob came to the front to say a few words before we took up the collection today in church. He said that he worked as a volunteer at Christmas helping hand out coats and food to folks who had need. He told this story about an encounter he had with one woman who had come in for help.

He said he was working there, greeting people as they got ready to pick up their things. He said one woman came up to him and he said, “Hello. How are you today?”

She replied, “I am blessed.”

He said he replied to her, “I am blessed, too.”

He said that afterwards, he thought about what she meant when she said she was blessed versus what he meant when he said he was blessed. This woman had spent over an hour in line, on a cold day, waiting to receive a used coat, a used blanket, and a box of food. “For that,” he said, “She said she was blessed.”

He didn’t say it outright, but as much as said that we tend to consider ourselves blessed if we have three cars, high speed internet, and a 401k that has several hundred thousand dollars in it. This woman considered herself blessed because of a used coat, used blanket, and a box of food that people donated.

When do you consider yourself blessed, and when do you begin to whine a little about how unfair things are and how hard you have it? Is God blessing you when He gives you enough to pay money down on a 24 foot boat and a garage in which to store it? Or is God blessing you when He allows you to wake up in the morning and see the sunrise?

Out of Touch??

With both of us working (or at least we both have jobs), we are beginning to look at alternate living arrangements. We are enjoying staying with my brother, but it will soon be time to find our own place and leave these folks alone.

We’ve been talking rent or buy. We’ve been talking about how large of a place we will need versus how large of a place we will want. We’ve been discussing location. We’ve been discussing a lot of things.

One thing I’ve noticed is the price of housing. My 1960’s mind just can’t wrap itself around a regular-looking home in a regular-looking neighborhood selling for $160,000 or more. It just seems like something is terribly, terribly out of whack here.

I suppose, though, that if I had kept track of inflation over the years, it wouldn’t seem so bad. And even at that, the money I’m making per hour now in my job is many, many times what I made when I first went to work years ago. So all in all, maybe it isn’t so bad after all.

Do you remember when it was unusual to find something in the grocery store that was over $1.00 (other than meat)? Now, you can hardly find anything under a dollar any more, and a lot of things are 2, 3, or 4 dollars each or more. Remember when a coupon for 3 cents off was a big deal? Now many people don’t even do coupons. Remember when if you found a nickel on the sidewalk, it was unconscionable to pass it by? Nowadays, kids get change at the store and throw it on the ground outside because they don’t want to mess with it.

I don’t know about you, but I still pick up pennies, nickels, and the like. I also finish my plate, save all my change, and think a five dollar bill is really something. Sheesh. Am I ever out of touch!!

The Ties That Bind

We attended a concert last night. The York College choir came to Wichita and performed. We thoroughly enjoyed the choir, but I enjoyed something else just as much. While there, I was able to visit with several people. Among them was a mom and her two sons from Topeka that we knew when we lived there. Another was our foster daughter and granddaughter. Daughter lives in Wichita, but granddaughter lives in Oklahoma and came up for a shower for a friend and came to the concert.

My, my how the boys have grown, Kelly! And how well they behaved (at least what I saw). You’ve done well with them, and it’s obvious that they love you. I don’t envy you in a house with five other boys (including Dad). God has given you special gifts to go along with the special challenges that this situation brings.

As we left the building, I was thinking that we don’t always communicate as well as we could and should. Our foster daughter lives in Wichita, yet we don’t often see her or contact her. We see her family even less. Those in Topeka and others we know in other places are often the same way. Although with modern communicative methods, we could easily be in touch, we often just don’t. In fact, Sheila found out about our new jobs and new grandson on the blog, just like many of you. Somehow, that just doesn’t seem right.

So, to all of you that we don’t see or contact as much as we should, we ask your forgiveness. I don’t know how much better we’ll do in the future, but you need to know right now and up front that we think of you often; we pray for you and the situations in your life that we know about; we enjoy the times when we do see you; and we cherish the ties that bind us together, even through long periods of no contact.

Am I Entitled?

OK, OK, so it’s been five days since a blog. I have an excuse. I started a new job on Monday and have been running my little (insert appropriate noun here) into the ground. But it’s coming along and I’m glad to be working.

Secondly, we are grandparents again. Scott and Laura had our second grandchild…Gabriel John. He’s obviously the cutest baby around these parts and seems to be doing well, as well as Mom and Dad. I went to Emporia yesterday evening for a quick visit, and came back late in the evening.

So there. I think I’m entitled, I suppose.

I was thinking on the way back last night about how old Gabriel would be when I would be leaving this earth. Oh, I know that I don’t really know that information, but was thinking that if I lived another 20 or so years (not out of the question at all), Gabriel might not even be married then.

His sister Rachel will be much the same way. She’s only a year and a half old now. Our kids will be in their mid to late 40’s, and it will be in the late 2020’s.

I don’t know why I thought of such a thing, but I’ve been saying for some time now that I have far more years behind me than I have in front of me. This kind of brought that home in a way that I haven’t thought of before now.

It is even more imperative that, should I be permitted to be a part of the growing years of Rachel and Gabriel, that my example be that of the love of Jesus Christ and that I convey to those kids the need to develop a lasting relationship with their Creator.

I don’t know that I could do anything any better for them than that.

The Genuine Article

Today, we went to the mall. We had some shopping to do for me. I needed work clothes for my new job on Monday. We also stopped in another department store while my wife looked over some female clothing articles that were on sale.
While she was looking, I (having two large bags of shirts and slacks on the floor beside me) stood to the side of an aisle waiting for her to make her selections. While I was standing there, a mom and little boy walked by. The boy, no more than about two years old, stopped in front of me and looked up intently.
I had been waiting for some time and pretty much ignored people who went by. I also overtly ignored this little boy by looking straight ahead, as I knew he was looking at me as if I might be a mannequin. I thought that if I smiled or spoke, it might frighten him. I could, however, see him in my peripheral vision.
I know it never entered into this boy’s mind why a male mannequin model would be placed in blue jeans and scruffy flannel shirt in an aisle between bras and womens’ shoes, but nevertheless, I think he thought I might be made of plastic.
His mom took his hand after a couple of seconds of his looking up at me and said, “C’mon, son.” A few steps down the aisle, she looked at him and said, “Yep, he’s real.”
Now I’ve never thought much about that before this afternoon, but I really have to wonder if people in the past have had to look at me more than once in order to determine if I was real…the genuine article. If so, that’s really rather sad. It seems that it shouldn’t take a lot of critical, close inspection of anyone to determine the genuineness of that person.
I hope I remember that little boy as he looked up at me. I hope that I never have to wonder whether or not people are seeing the genuine article when they look at my life. And I hope that the genuine person that others see is the person that I really am and that God wants me to be.