Getting Things Done

I must admit that I’ve been negligent in following the blogs I used to follow with Metamucil regularity. One sister is traipsing to Ohio to look for a long-lost great aunt and the other is trying to find herself amidst the many changes of middle age and life. A cousin is relishing her first year of teaching school and other people either haven’t written in a month of Sundays or have closed down their blogs. Is blogging going out of style? Do people not have enough time any more to even blog? I know I don’t do it as often as I’d like…it’s not a question of time for me but rather of inspiration. Many times in the evening I just don’t feel like writing; I’ve already been “consumed” by the events of the day.
Let’s see. Today is a day off for us because the nursing home where I work has this day (Good Friday) as a holiday. I went to the bank, got a haircut, and will take a load of trashy yard waste out to my brother’s place where he can legally burn it. The wife is shopping for stuff and isn’t back yet.
I was going to work on our goldfish pond today, but the wind and cold may prevent that. Tomorrow we will be going to the in-laws so that day is shot for anything productive around the house. Sundays I usually don’t like to do a lot of heavy work, but may have to in order to get things done.
Weekends seem to be more fully occupied than ever. We go here or have this to do there. And it many times is an all-day thing, or at least enough of the day so that we can’t do anything else. Then we get into the work week and before we know it, we’re behind.
My sitting here writing in my blog isn’t getting anything done today, so….

An Eclectic Group

It was 78 degrees yesterday; 38 degrees today. Such is the weather this time of the year. The rapid change in weather conditions is not unique to Kansas or even the Great Plains. Many places in the temperate climates of the world are like this.
For some reason, however, we like to gripe about, or at least talk about the weather, changes in the weather, and how crazy the weather seems to be at times. It’s interesting that something we can do very little to change and something that we spend huge amounts of money avoiding (air conditioning, heating, etc) occupies such a great part of our time and energy.
Those things we can change, however, we don’t often take the time to do. This coming Tuesday we expect about 12 percent of eligible voters to go to the polls and select local leaders for the next several years. That means that 88 percent of eligible voters will not take advantage of something that they can do to effect some real change in local government. Oh, they’ll still gripe about high taxes and what they perceive to be dumb decisions, but won’t vote anyone in or out of office. Maybe it’s just too much trouble to stop at the polls. Maybe it’s too much work to vote in advance. I don’t know.
We humans are an illogical and irrational lot at times. I guess that’s what makes life interesting, though, and may be why many people have a hobby of watching other people. We see so much of ourselves in them…we can only laugh knowingly and remind ourselves that we too are part of that eclectic group of souls called humanity.

Newfound Elegance

Even without the clouds, it was a pretty sunset. I don’t see as much of the setting sun as I used to because other houses to the west of ours blocks the horizon. However, our main living room window is high enough above ground level to afford us a view that is within a hair’s breadth of the horizon, and a full sky.
Most of the time, sunsets that are cloudless are less than a spectacular sight. Especially in summer heat and dust, the sunsets are many times not much more than a gradual darkening of the sky as the sun sometimes is obliterated by the dust and smoke hanging thick in the hot air of summer. The dust comes from farmers working their fields, and the smoke many times is a result of farmers burning off their stubble or last year’s growth of pasture grass. (For some reason, farming and polluting the air in this manner is exempt from EPA regulation, something I haven’t figured out to this day).
But the setting sun tonight, while not in the category of a wowing spectacular view, still left no doubt that sometimes the creation is a beautiful place and that the Master Artist continues to create canvases for his people. Relatively simple, yet elegant was the theme of the Master tonight.
It is indeed true that beauty many times is in the eye of the beholder. Where some may see a slimy, slithering monster, others see the gorgeous markings of a snake. Where some may cringe at the thought of touching a common housefly, others see the awesome organ that is the eye of that fly and marvel at the One who created it. Where some may consider the snow and ice a major inconvenience, others see a renewal and replenishing of the earth.
We all have things in our lives that we don’t appreciate or just plain dislike. And that’s OK. But sometime, in some way, take some time and try to find the good, the beautiful, the artistic, and the elegance in these things. You may see things in a whole different light.

What's Happening

I’m not sure what has happened to me these last months. I can’t even begin to describe some of the feelings inside; however, being an aspiring writer, I’ll try. Most of what is coming is religious or otherwise serious in nature. If you don’t want to read things like that, you can stop now.
I seem to alternate among feelings of incredible blessedness, mild apprehension regarding the financial mess and whether I’ll retain a job, the also-incredible incomprehensibility of the God of heaven and earth, the joy and delight of family and friends, the goodness of life, the brevity of life, and the boundless truth that is revealed in holy writ and by the handiwork of God Himself.
Now, as you look at that list (which is kind of a mess in and of itself), can you begin to understand why I’m not able to give full descriptive service to what’s inside?
Something is opening up for me whole vistas of possibility, reality, and hope. I’m not sure what (or who) that something is, but I’m grateful. It seems like we all too often go through life with perpetual blinders, never seeing to the right or to the left. We never leave our ruts and consider life to be successful if, when we die, we’re able to have enough money for a proper burial and something worthy for the preacher to say at our service. How we miss the mark!
God calls us to an abundant life of service, joy, love, peace, and happiness. He has plans for us that would stagger our imaginations and cause us to immediately say something stupid such as, “I could never do that!” He desires the best for us (the very defining principle of love) and enables, encourages, and expects our best for His service. He is constantly prodding, poking, and stirring us into humility and service, ever aware that He created us as beings free to accept or reject Him at will.
Service. Servant. Eternal. Love. Servanthood. Peace. Delight. Servant-leader. Humbleness. Low estate. Undeserving. Blessed. Abundant. Secure. Hope. Life. Evermore unto the ages of the ages. What a life this is!

Where Are They?

On this night when the snow is blowing, the wind is howling, and a massive, major storm is upon us, as we are safe and secure in our homes, warm and fed, where are the homeless?

Today

So, today is cooler than it has been for awhile, and dry. The sun is out and things look good outside (except for the wind).
I'm in a sort of lull in work now (10:50am) and thought I'd "dash" off a note. I woke up with a headache, but after a couple tylenol and ibuprofen, it seems to be abating. I'm also feeling better and not quite so sluggish as I was this morning earlier.
Let's see. No potties unplugged today (but one yesterday). However, I have cleaned the stains off of two carpets in two resident rooms, installed Java on a PC (have to log in as administrator), had a meeting, fielded approximately 11 calls (phone ringing again), fixed a resident's rain gauge, took in the weekly nursing supply order, and am now getting ready to install an anti-rollback device on a wheelchair. Some day so far, huh.
On a more serious note, I know that we each have our own issues, problems, and "giants" in our lives. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about those in my life and those that I know of that are in the lives of others that I love. I once wrote in a blog about how I think that God creates a unique "present tense" for each of us and unfurls it before us as time goes on. As I continue to ponder that, I am more convinced than ever that He spreads the here and now before us and waits to see what we do with it. The present tense is where we do battle with the "giants" in our lives. The here and now is where we deal with the issues that clog our existence. Today is when we face our foes and fears.
Whatever your situation, you have only the here and now. The past is gone. The future (even five minutes from now) is uncertain. Only you can decide how you will use what you've been given.

The Best

Coming home this evening from Central Kansas and some time with the in-laws, we were listening to an oldies station out of Wichita. Kind of in the middle of the drive home, an Elvis Presley tune came on (Can't Help Falling In Love With You). I told my wife, "He DID have a good voice."
Yes, he did. For all of his faults and insecurities, he had "the voice". Not many singers of today or yesterday have or had "the voice", but there were some. I started thinking back to those singers that I knew and decided that there were three that stood out.
Elvis Presley. I don't know what it is, but it's just an effortless, milk chocolate smooth delivery. I don't care if it's the falling in love song or the hound dog song. His baritone is up there with Bing, who also had it. Sinatra had it, but didn't always use it.
Karen Carpenter. Taken entirely too soon by an insidious illness, Ms. Carpenter's voice just slides out of the speakers and eases into every recess, every corner, every cubic foot of the room as well as into every cell of one's being. She just fills the environment with beauty.
Sandi Patty. It was said of her by a fellow performer who was introducing her once, "No one ever has heard a voice like this." Her three octive reach beyond high C and below middle C is under her perfect control. She plays her voice as a maestro plays a Stradivarius, and like the violin, her voice responds...in spades.
You may well know other singers that I do not know, and your list may look different than mine. That's fine. These are the ones that I gravitate toward, and turn up the volume whenever they appear on the radio. Elvis is a more recent entry into my list, but he's there.
Others worth mentioning: Diana Ross, The Mills Brothers, Barry Manilow, The McGuire Sisters, The Lettermen, The Martins, Dean Martin (when sober), and maybe Patsy Cline, Mariah Carey, and Art Garfunkel.
Who would be on your list?

Relationships

We attended a wedding yesterday. A member of our family was being married, and we were privileged to be able to witness the ceremony. They had a dinner and dance following the wedding, held in the same area as the ceremony. It was the first time we had been in that building, and I thought the staff of the facility did a good job with things.
We took a table at one corner of the room for the dinner and dance. I chose to sit where I could see the rest of the room without much effort. I like to watch people, and enjoyed doing that in this instance, because there were a lot of people there that I didn’t know along with several that I did know.
During the toast, the father of the groom told of a time when I had given him some “fatherly” advice about how to get along with a spouse (Something about choosing your battles). I don’t remember that time, but don’t doubt that I gave that advice. I’ve lived by what he said I told him ever since we have been married.
A while later, I was sitting in my spot thinking about what the Dad said in his toast and how I had positively influenced him in some small way. I then thought about others that I may have influenced in some way in times past and gone. I didn’t do that mental exercise very long until I figured out that I probably have influenced many hundreds of people in the past in some way, shape, or form. I then wondered if my influence was for the better or for the worse. I would hope that for the most part, my having had a relationship with someone would have been a positive experience for the both of us.
It’s not possible to go back and make those relationships any different than what they are. We can’t go back in time and take back the things we’ve said or done. That makes it doubly important that we do it right the first time. One never knows what parts of a relationship are fleeting and what parts are lasting. One never knows what kind of influence the relationship will have on life and living. And one never knows how the relationship will impact future action and thought.
In my case this day, something I said was handed down many years later to the next generation, and hopefully will in turn be handed down yet again in years to come. And I had the privilege of seeing it happen. I like that.

Anger Management

I was going down the hall at work the other day when I came up on a therapist walking a resident back to her room after a therapy session. They were visiting about something, and as I got closer, I overheard the resident say to the therapist, “...I thought you were going to be mad at me.”
Now, I know this therapist. She's probably one of the most even-keeled people here. Even at that, I have never, repeat NEVER, seen any staff here lash out in anger at a resident. Yes, we become somewhat frustrated at times, knowing that a resident has the ability to make positive and good decisions for his/her life, but instead chooses to continue a life of dependence. Yes, we become frustrated at times, as other staff for whatever reason chooses to not fulfill his/her work obligations. But anger at residents? No.
Residents sometimes make messes. Residents sometimes wander. Residents sometimes make extra work for staff. Residents sometimes make poor choices. We know that's part of the job here. We know that we will have to deal with these kinds of things. Anger or lashing out at residents should have no part in our work lives.
The sad part of all of this is that the resident I overheard thought, rightly or wrongly, that whatever it was she did was going to anger a therapist. This upsets me. This resident should feel that in a nursing home, of all places, she would be safe and well-cared for.
I don't know what her experiences have been insofar as long term care is concerned. I would hope that what I heard her say was said without having to have gone through some kind of anger tirade on the part of a staffer somewhere. But I suspect that somewhere, some time, someone whose job it was to care for her got angry and stupid and lashed out at her in some way.
We can do better than that.

Communication

It’s difficult, at times, to know what to write. It’s even more difficult to do it in a way that will communicate what I intended to say appropriately. This thing called communication is something that I have yet to be able to put my finger on, even though I’ve been trying it out for nigh on to sixty years or so.
As an example, today we stopped by a local Quick-Trip type place to get gas and pick up some hamburger buns for the sloppy joes we were having for lunch. I got the gas, then went into the store to pick up the buns. They were out. I came back out to the car with a loaf of bread and some chips.
As I got into the car, I said to my wife something to the effect that they were out of hamburger buns. We then had, over the next 10 minutes, a disjointed sort of conversation about hamburger buns, sloppy joes, and why didn’t I go on down to Dillons and get buns. Turns out that we were on two different wavelengths. I said that I told her as I got into the car that we were out of buns, and carried on my end of the conversation as if she had that information. She tells me that she never heard me say that, and only found out that we had no buns later on in the conversation; she was conversing from the idea that the buns were in the sack that I carried out of the store.
No wonder that the conversation didn’t seem to make much sense to me. No wonder we both got frustrated in trying to communicate with the other one. No wonder that the end result was less than satisfying.
I don’t know if I said what I thought I said as I got into the car or not. In my mind, I can hear myself clearly as I slid into the seat. I suspect that in her mind, that scene is playing out much differently. Which one of us is right? We’ll never know, and it really doesn’t matter.
What does matter is that we learn from the experience and continue in our efforts to better communicate with one another as we hurtle down the road of life at what seems to be an ever-increasing speed. What matters is that we don’t give up on each other or just shrug our shoulders and say “whatever” when things become difficult.
As an aside, this episode points out to me the incredible thought that has gone into the writing of Jewish and Christian scripture. And even at that, the Bible is interpreted in just about as many different ways as there are people who offer interpretation, simply because everyone sees things differently, and everyone has a slightly different world view from which they operate. Is it any wonder that there are literally hundreds of commentaries…thousands of books…tens of thousands of people who offer up vastly differing ideas on what was meant by this passage, why this saying is in the Bible, or what Paul (or John or David or Luke or…) meant when he wrote whatever it was he wrote.
Yet to bring out from that cacophony of voices a religion that has as its basic tenets things that on which by far most of the Christians can agree is nothing short of amazing. And to make those tenets understandable by most of the world’s population (when heard or read in one’s language of understanding) is even more amazing.
Communication is the elephant in the room that no one wants to recognize, sometimes. Yet unless we do, we are bound to wallow around in ignorance and misunderstanding at a minimum, and possibly hostility and outright anger or hatred as a not uncommon result.

Foundational

I've blogged about this before. I've seen it again today, just as I see it almost every day of the week that I go to work. It's something that has more power than almost anything else on the face of the earth, yet is gentle, forgiving, and kind. It is something that everyone longs for, many don't have, and even more who don't know how to get or give it. It's love.
I see it in the husband of the woman in our facility with dementia. They used to be dairy farmers not far from here, and he talks well of the business and how successful they were. There is a picture of the farmstead on the wall of her room and a couple of awards that were given to them for something having to do with dairy farming.
She doesn't say anything any more. She may well not know where she is or who is with her. She is incontinent much of the time, stares into space, needs to be fed, and can no longer do much of anything except sit, stand, or lay down.
Yet her hubby takes her for walks, encourages her to eat, talks with her, is with her much of the day, sees that she is clean and presentable, and otherwise cares for her in ways that truly demonstrate his comittment to her.
Other spouses also are much like this gentleman. They dote over their loved one, look after them, advocate for them, love them and serve them. The bond is unbreakable; the love is intense, mature, and resolute. These people truly understand that they made a comittment long ago in which they promised to love "in sickness and in health, for better or for worse."
These are the people who are the examples to those younger, mostly women who work there who are in and out of relationships, have children as a single parent, and don't seem to be able to figure out life and living. These are the people of whom others scratch their heads and just can't figure out why they are so devoted to someone who is dying and isn't even really there in a large sense. These are the people who uphold the sanctity of committment and the honor of marriage.
These people are the foundation of our civilization.

Your Opinion?

Christian musician and writer Danny Oertli tells the story of coming home one evening after doing a concert. His daughter was still up, and they did some quality time together by watching a retreating thunderstorm from a window of their home. The lightning flashed from time to time, but was somewhat faint due to the fact that the storm was many miles away.
They watched for a time; then Danny told his girl that it was time for bed. She was enjoying the time so much that she protested and said she’d like to see just one more lightning flash before bed. Not knowing when or if there would be another flash of light from the distant storm, Danny encouraged her to go on to bed.
Before she did, however, she stood up and raised her hands much as Moses might have done in parting the Red Sea and prayed, “God, let me see one more lightning bolt before I go to bed.”
Danny was somewhat taken by her child-like faith, but said nothing. His daughter then began counting backwards from five…"Five, four, three, two, one…CRACKERJACK!”
Just as she said the word “crackerjack,” Danny says the sky lit up from seemingly all directions as lightning lit up not only the sky, but everything outside the window. His daughter turned to Danny, gave him a look like “Right on!” and went to bed. Danny, for his part chalked it all up to coincidence and something that just happened to happen at the right time.
A few days later, Danny says he was reading in the Bible and a verse from Job just jumped out at him. God is talking to Job, explaining to Job that He, Jehovah, is God and Job isn't. God says, “Can you shout to the clouds and make it rain? Can you make lightning appear and cause it to strike as you direct it?”
Coincidence, or answered prayer? I’ll let you be the judge.

Outdoor Living

I went outside this morning to get the newspaper, which was out on the drive. It was cold this morning. The weather service says it was 12 degrees when I went outside at 8am, and only 10 degrees an hour later. The wind was out of the northwest at 30 miles an hour, bringing a wind chill of about 12 degrees below zero. As I ventured out in only a long sleeved shirt, I suddenly thought of something disturbing.
“My gosh, there are people who have to live out here!” That thought came on me like a ton of bricks, and I suddenly appreciated all the more the house behind me that was my home. And I had renewed feelings for those who, for whatever reason, had to spend the night in the wind and cold.
And now that I’ve had a few hours to think about it, I have to wonder if I will have anything other than “renewed feelings” for these people. Yes, some of them made their own beds, so to speak. Yes, some are mentally ill. And yes, others of them are chronic homeless and prefer, for whatever reason, to be that way. There are also countless others who are now living in cars or some place else that don’t want to be there, perhaps had a job and home until recently, and are on hard times.
I don’t care what the reason for the homelessness may be; there is something inherently wrong with allowing people to live outdoors in weather like this, and not at least making the indoors available in some way. And I think there’s something wrong when people who are blessed with comfort out of the weather don’t at least make an attempt, in some way, to provide for shelter for those who have none. Whether that attempt is working with a homeless shelter in some way, or just contributing funds to some worthy homeless effort, it is incumbent on us all to look at what God has given us and find some way to use that gift to His glory. I don't care if what God has given us is only a small home that we have to set the thermostat on 60 degrees in order to afford the heat bill, that's more than others have, and is a blessing from God.
Our church works with the homeless in more than one way, and we are part of that work through our giving of funds. That isn’t something that we can congratulate ourselves for, but rather is something that we humbly should continue, and continue to seek out other ways to fulfill the admonition of Jesus to “offer a cup of cold water” in His name.

Heroes

Captain Sullenberger (you know, the pilot of the airliner that landed in the Hudson River) and his flight crew all have a new job. Oh no, they didn’t leave the airline (at least that I know of). But they all, and especially Capt. Sullenberger, have a new job. That job is defined as someone who is admired for his talents and noble qualities; someone who shows great courage. That job is the job of hero.
They didn’t ask for it; they just did the jobs they were trained to do, and in doing so saved the lives of 155 people, including themselves. They kept families intact and together, made certain that kids would have a Dad or Mom come home that night, and stopped a huge fountain of grief from overspreading this nation.
So far, it seems, these folks have handled the hero job with poise and composure, if not a little discomfort. I suppose that sometime, somewhere, some idiot will dig up some kind of dirt on at least one of them, and try to tarnish the image. And something may happen in the crush of publicity and media coverage that causes one or more of these good folks to “break” in some way and do or say something stupid. So far, none of that apparently has happened, and I trust it never will.
We all have dirt in our closets. We all are susceptible to temptation. We all are imperfect. Only someone who wishes to get a leg up and who sees himself as better than someone else takes any kind of pride at all in exposing the sins of another. Yes, there are exceptions…prosecutors, police, etc. I’m not talking about them. This is another subject.
We need heroes. We need the Captain Sullenbergers and the rest of the crew of that flight. We need the John Glenns, the Betty Jeffreys, the Stan Musials, the Norman Schwarzkopfs, the Christa McAuliffes and others who give us hope, inspire us, and prod us to do things we’d otherwise never attempt. We need people that we can look to for inspiration and promise.
Old people, young people, men, women, children, rich folks, poor folks; all of us need heroes. Who’s your hero? Who are you a hero to?

Tempered

We talked today in Sunday school class about the process of maturity and how we tend to see things differently as we grow older and more mature, chronologically as well as emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. We talked about how our sometimes “black and white” ideas and notions are often tempered by age, experience, and knowledge. We looked at the man John, the disciple of Jesus and writer of several portions of the New Testament as an example of someone who, over the years, comes to moderate his persona and becomes known as the Apostle of love.
I find myself in that same position in many aspects of my life. What used to be so black and white to me no longer is, and what seemed to be such simple and easy solutions to problems and issues no longer are. I’ve become more tolerant in many ways, even as I become more set in my ways in other areas of life and living. And I’ve come to appreciate more and more those things in my life that are blessings. Grandchildren, family, work, music, health, God, wife, past experiences and friends all come to mind pretty much all at once and in no particular order.
I find myself thinking more about the past, marveling at the rich and full life I’ve lived to this day. I hear music of whatever variety from years ago, whether on an LP record, in church, or on the Lawrence Welk show on PBS, and I think of the good things that I’ve associated with that particular melody. I see old TV shows and recall pleasant times of comfort and security at home with Dad and Mom, knowing now that they were providing me with the best they had to offer. I see movies like Apollo 13 and think back to what I was doing and where I was and how I was astonished at the ability and capability of men and women to do things like that…and that I am still filled with wonder at the sight of portions of the universe never before seen until now through the Hubble space telescope.
Is this a sure sign of aging? Is this a precursor to life in retirement? Is this a mark of a man readying himself for the inevitable? I don’t know.
One thing I do know is that however much time I am blessed with here in this life, it has been given to me by God to use productively and wisely. And although I don’t always do that like I’d like to, I’d like to think that my age and experience enable me to do a much better job of being a good steward of the things I’ve been given. And if that means being not so much black and white and looking beyond the simplistic and naïve, so be it.

It Happened Again

Well, it happened again. Tonight as we were just finishing eating at a local restaurant and getting up to leave, someone in a close booth greeted me by name. I looked at them and vaguely recalled them from our home community an hour or so southwest of here, but I couldn’t place them any more than that.
I was surprised, and said so, and tried to find some connection that would help me with the inevitable ensuing conversation. I found nothing in the 18 brain cells that I have left, so I just went along for the ride.
Come to find out they were up here after putting her dad in a care facility. They were eating before they went home. We visited some about our work, their situation, and not much else. Then I found an opening and left.
After we left the restaurant, I told the wife to not ask because I didn’t have a clue. She allowed as how they must be connected with me by EMS or the hospital, since she would know anyone else, but may not know some of those folks. I still don’t have a clue.
I suppose after the conversation, they asked each other, “Do you suppose he knew who we were?” I hate it that I can’t remember names, and don’t recognize people. I looked at them pretty much the whole time we were in the restaurant, as they were just beyond our table, but I never had a flicker of recognition the whole time.
I have to think that it doesn’t get any better as I age, but it wasn’t good when I was young. So I guess I’ll just have to swallow hard the next time and say something like, “You look familiar and I should know you, but can you help out an old man?” Maybe that would do it with enough humor that it would get us past the awkward part of my not remembering.

Work Appreciation

Years ago, in another life, I worked EMS in Harper County as an EMT. We took call from time to time, and could be called out on a moment’s notice at any time, day or night. Most of the time we dealt with the more routine things, but once in awhile we’d deal with a car wreck, fire involving people, car-train collisions, medical emergencies, or other more serious medical or trauma issues.
As part of what we did, when we had information on a patient we were bringing in to the hospital, we’d call the hospital by radio and give preliminary medical information to the staff there so they could prepare for the arrival of the patient by having the equipment, medications, and other needs already there. Because it was a small hospital, the charge nurse on duty was literally in charge of the hospital, and would often answer the radio and communicate with the ambulance crew. That communication was vital, and we knew it was important that we all be on the same page, especially if the patient was seriously ill or had major trauma.
I was always set at ease when I called in a report and Lisa would answer. I always knew that everything would be fine. Lisa would be ready, would have staff ready, equipment and supplies handy, and that things would go well. She was competent, efficient, intelligent, and organized. She knew what she was doing, knew how to think on her feet, and knew how to make decisions.
Some other nurses could have learned a lot by just opening their eyes and watching her for a day or two. Sometimes I wished they would, because some nurses were just not organized and seemed to never quite be totally in the present tense.
Lisa gave me a good feeling when she answered the other end of the radio. I told her so more than once. Have you told anyone recently that they’ve done a good job for you? You might not supervise anyone at work, but you do have people work for you. The waitress, the clerk, or someone at the bank who helps you all work for you. Let them know how much you appreciate their work.

Today and Tomorrow

Today was an absolutely gorgeous day. The weather was like that in mid to late April, even though it’s February. We’ll not have this kind of weather continue, as rain is coming tomorrow and Monday, they say. But today couldn’t have been nicer or better.
Everyone, it seems, was outside today doing something. The trail in the park behind our house was busy both with those who walked and those who rode. No, they don’t allow ATV’s. We saw riders today on mules, ambling along the trail.
People were out in their yards with their kids, working in their garages, washing their cars, and doing things people do on a nice day. Most folks seemed to be a little friendlier than normal. And the prospect of longer days, spring, and the coming months of the year just make everyone sort of perk up.
We’ll be going to see my uncle tomorrow. It’s his 90th birthday and his daughter has planned a come-and-go reception for him tomorrow. He’s a joy to be with and seems to enjoy life. He was a farmer all his life, and never was much for mucky-muck or high class stuff. He’s always been a down-to-earth, simple man.
Yet he has worked wonders with wood, carved beautiful things, and has done taxidermy. He has had an invaluable impact on the lives of many, having taught both adults and children in church. He has a wisdom that comes from knowledge of and observation of the world around him, and carries too a wisdom that comes from a relationship with his Creator. He has a love for the creation and all of God's creatures, whether human or animal. He maintains a curiosity and a sense of wonder about the world and about God that amaze me.
We are blessed to have him in the family, and it is a privilege for me to go tomorrow and in some small way help him celebrate 90 years in this life.

Give God a Chance

Today our nephew’s fiancé came to our home to stay in the spare bedroom in the basement for a few weeks while they finalize wedding plans and get things ready to go for their married lives here in the Wichita area. We offered to have her stay some time ago and have been looking forward to being able to help out. Her mother is also staying with us for the weekend, having driven down here with her from their home in Wisconsin.
We enjoy being able to do things like this, and hope that their stay with us will be comfortable and pleasant. We aren’t great entertainers, preferring instead to have our house guests just find what they need and make themselves at home.
Our “things” aren’t that important to us. We have things that we enjoy; we have things that have sentimental value; we have things that make our lives pleasant. But all of those things don’t provide us with what we truly need for life and living. So they are like tools to us. They are here for us to use. We have them so we can make others’ lives more enjoyable and so…yes, I’ll be honest here…we can let others know that we live by a different standard.
Christianity (not religion) is that standard. We put out what I consider to be poor, weak efforts at making this world a better place and telling others about the love of God. But we also believe that God takes those poor, weak efforts and multiplies them, making them work out to His glory.
Now you may think that’s all a bunch of garbage, and you’re entitled to your opinion. However, if you’ve never tried it, how do you know what it is? Have you ever really looked objectively at Christianity? At God? At a way of life and living that offers hope, peace, and love? I thought so.
However you look at life and living, know that the Author and Creator of life loves you and desires a relationship with you that is beyond anything you can think or know. Give God a chance.

So the close of another Sunday rapidly descends. Although this day is the first day of the calendar week, for many of us tomorrow will actually seem like the first day of the week because it is the first day of a work week.
Some enjoy the coming of the work week because they like their jobs, like their work environment, and take pride in a job well done. Others are ambivalent about their jobs and the work week is just something that happens regularly. Still others don’t really like their work, greatly dreading the start of the work week.
I’ll not tell you where I fall in, but will only say that there are things in my life right now that are more important than work. I like the job well enough. The hours are good, the environment is friendly, and the pay is fine. I’m just at the stage in life where work isn’t all there is to life. I’ve been there, done that. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. There are experiences of life that are more challenging than anything work can throw at me, so the challenge of my work isn’t where it’s at, either.
Some of you reading this know what the term “knob-farkeler” means (Yes, I know, the spellchecker doesn’t like that word. It suggests “darkener”, “foreleg”, or “fickler.”). For those that don’t, the term is a family expression which that means that things are working somehow to make things turn out in a certain way. We “borrowed” the term from the dice game by the same name. Our family chooses to use that expression to mean that God is working in someone’s life.
I get the rather unsettling (although not in a bad way) idea that there is some knob-farkeling (spellchecker: parceling, freckling, barreling) going on, and that there is some setting-up of things by Someone that will result in yet another, shall I say, adventure in my journey through space-time.
Now, I don’t know that’s true, but I’m not a young man any more. I’ve lived life, and believe that with maturity and observation come a kind of sense that starts nudging, picking, and poking when such things are happening. That poking and nudging has begun. I can’t explain it…but my antennae are perking up, fine-tuned to pick up the vibes.
Lord knows I’ve had enough adventures. And bless her heart, my lovely wife has gone on many of them with me. Thankfully I don’t see that this farkeling has to do with job loss or moving, although I don’t know for sure. I do know that whatever happens, we will be fine and things will work out; they always have.
I don’t claim to know (or want to know) the future. I’m not obsessed by what may or may not happen. I’m more concerned about the here and now and whether I’m in the place where I’m supposed to be, doing the thing I’m supposed to do. It’s been a great ride so far, and I’m looking forward to what is ahead, however far or near those events may be.


All I Ever Have to Be
By Amy Grant

When the weight of all my dreams
Is resting heavy on my head,
And the thoughtful words of health and hope
Have all been nicely said.

But I'm still hurting,
Wondering if I'll ever be
The one I think I am.

I think I am.

Then you gently re-remind me
That you've made me from the first,
And the more I try to be the best
The more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me,
Is only there because of who you are.

Who you are...

And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.

As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.

And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohkdMXx_JlQ