One Real Answer

 Good morning and welcome.

 As I write this on Wednesday afternoon, at least three are dead and many more are injured in a shooting at a Catholic school in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Evidently, from what we know as of this writing, a gunman opened fire on a mass being held at the school.  He apparently fired through windows indiscriminately at children and adults who were attending the mass.  He then killed himself.

I’m saying at the outset of this thought that I don’t know the answers.  I don’t even know the questions to ask.  I don’t know if there are any real answers…other than, perhaps, one.  And we’ll get to that a little later in the video.

And I also want you to understand that this kind of thing is absolutely horrid…an affront to the very fiber of society…and an act that dehumanizes us all…deprives us all of the dignity and respect that should naturally come with the fact that we are human.

There are obvious socio-political factors involved here.  Mental health care and services, the breakdown of the family unit, poverty, laws that govern gun ownership, involuntary commitment laws, and a host of other social, legal, and political factors & issues all play into the responses to these kinds of assaults on society.  Sometimes the partisan rhetoric drowns out any attempt to make any substantial changes that may lessen the incidence of these kinds of tragedies, because we all have our soap boxes.  And we obviously believe OUR soap box is the correct one (otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing on it…we’d be on a different one).  Additionally, we not only believe we need not listen to other points of view, but we feel the need to drown out those viewpoints which are espoused by others that may not agree with ours.

I’ve heard all kinds and all manner of possible solutions.  Most of those solutions are at best simplistic and unworkable in my view, but many people hang their hats on them and believe they are the thing that will save us from ourselves.  And that may well be the crux of the whole matter…we are trying to save ourselves from ourselves.

Throughout human history we have been doing it that way.  We get ourselves into trouble…then believe if we just do this thing or that thing, we can get ourselves out of trouble and begin living in some kind of fairyland world where unicorns and rainbows are everywhere, and there’s not a care to be found.

I said at the beginning that I thought that perhaps there was indeed one answer…one that would go far in relieving the trials and tribulations of our common societal ills.  I’d like to share my thought with you.

First, we need to recognize that we cannot possibly save ourselves FROM ourselves.  Human beings are a marvelous and wondrous creation of God, but human beings are also irreparably flawed…destined to succumb to the temptations thrust upon us and powerless to, on our own, overcome them.

Having said that, I think some of you may know where this is going.

Second, there is a way out.  Even though we can’t save ourselves, the God who created us, loves us, and understands us DID make a way out.  God in the person of Jesus Christ has set us free from the power of evil and death.  He has given us, by means of His grace and mercy, a way to escape the horrid mess we humans have created for ourselves.

I’m here to tell you that Jesus Christ is indeed the answer….the only answer that makes any sense at all.

Yes, there will still be mental illness.  There will still be people who do things they shouldn’t.  There will still be the need for police.  There will still be the need for laws.  But just think how things could be different if we all took to heart the command to love our neighbor, and did the best we could to honor that command.

Or the command to do to others as you would like for them to do to you.

Or the command to love God with all one’s heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Think for a moment how societal acceptance of and devotion to those commands would change how we deal with mental health issues, with those who are hurting, with those who are poor, hungry, or neglected.

Think what might happen should we get serious about what our Creator has said to us…taught us…and shown us.

Converting the world to Jesus isn’t in our individual job descriptions.  But demonstrating the love of Jesus and letting others know about His power to save IS in our care.  And we do that, not necessarily with a crowd of thousands, but rather most of the time just one person at a time.  Just one.  One at a time.

The hurt is real.  The tragedy is unthinkable.  We struggle to capture even a glimpse of the answer to why.  Jesus said, “Come unto me all you who are heavy laden…and I will give you rest.”  Maybe we need to take  Him up on that.

May God Bless Us...Every One

 Good morning and welcome.

 This past week has been especially intense at times.  As you may know, I deal with a lot of the benevolence that the church does for folks, both members and non-members.  One of the things I do with those who ask for help is try to engage them in conversation, asking them about their day, their family, and life in general.  It usually doesn’t take much prompting for the floodgates to open, and I often hear things that make me wonder just how people survive in today’s world.  And it’s good, I think, for them to be able to tell their stories to someone who  listens without judgment.

Sometimes, these encounters are especially intense, and sometimes come one right after another.  When the day is over, I am tired and worn, not from physical exertion, but from mental and emotional exhaustion.  Such was the day on Monday of this week.

The next day, a member of our congregation asked me how I was doing.  I told her that I was OK, but not great.  I told her that I had dealt with some difficult encounters the day before.  She then strongly encouraged me to sit down and visit with her.  I knew she wouldn’t rest until I did so, and because I knew she was familiar with confidentiality and all that goes with it, I found a chair and sat across from her.

After some initial conversation regarding the encounters on Monday, she asked me how I manage to maintain my faith, especially on days when things are emotionally intense and there seem to be no answers.  She knew that my work often consists of listening to someone describe their life that is falling apart, or perhaps life has already fallen apart for them, and they need some basic thing such as food or shelter.  Or maybe it consists of providing not only a listening ear, but also whatever lay-counseling I can provide.  Or perhaps I can do nothing except commiserate with someone who is trying to get her family into a family shelter only to find the beds constantly filled day after day.

I gave my friend three reasons or ways that I maintain my faith.

First, God provides.  He encourages, supports, and lets me know that He's on the job, so to speak.  He provides a measure of peace and fulfillment even when things don't end up being rainbows and unicorns for those we are trying to help.  His strength, power, and compassion are endless.  He continually works to refill my cup.

That work of “refilling my cup,” as I put it, is often through others.  Others who look after my health and well-being.  My wife, other staffers, the other Elders, and people I know and love who I can trust implicitly.  And this woman who I am visiting with is one of those people.  Without God's work through those I encounter day to day, I don't know where I'd be now.

Second, I know several in the non-profit community who I know are also “out there,” so to speak, doing the hard things every day.  They keep going even when things are tough...and things are tough much of the time.  I keep up with them and their ministries.  I talk with them, visit with them, lunch with them.  We exchange ideas, new ways to serve, and share successes.  And we commiserate with each other.  And we understand each other.  We encourage each other.  We help each other as we can.  The non-profit community is an incredible resource to help me maintain my sanity and my faith.

Third, the RiverWalk congregation supports me in the work that we do.  They contribute financially to the church so we can do what we do.  They encourage me and others.  They help out when they can.  Many of them themselves are busy pretty much behind the scenes doing the everyday things that help other people.   Providing transportation.  Offering a listening ear.  Sitting at a bedside.  Sitting with children.  Preparing food.  Buying groceries.  Cleaning house, and running errands for those who can't do those things on their own due to illness or trauma.  It is gratifying, humbling, and incredibly empowering to have such a church family who supports servant ministries the way RiverWalk does.

Yes, the work is sometimes hard, but I’m not the only one God has endowed with a sometimes hard job.  There are countless others who have been given the good work of helping, restoring, relieving, uplifting, and just caring & listening.  With all of those jobs, however, comes the needed resources from God Himself to complete the work.

 

As that great Apostle Paul has said, “Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim that anything comes from us, but our competence comes from God.  And the Hebrew writer likewise, makes this statement at the end of that letter,  “Now may the God of peace equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever.  Amen.”

 

May God bless us, every one.

Blessings, 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seasonal Changes

 Good afternoon.

 This is the time to begin thinking about change of seasons.  Now, I know you’re thinking about the change of season having to do with summer turning into fall and cooler weather, but there are other seasonal changes afoot as well.

Take our winged wildlife, for example.  Most birds either have raised their young by now, or are in the finishing days and weeks of doing so and kicking them out of the nest.  Some birds are beginning to molt…that is, lose feathers in preparation for growing a new set of feathers that will protect them during the cold winter months.  And soon we will be seeing more of the migrating birds hit our neighborhoods for anywhere from a few hours to several days while they rest up, stoke up on food, and find decent water.  Those birds who have been with us for the summer will, in some cases, migrate away from here and we won’t see them again until next spring.  I’m thinking specifically about our Mississippi Kites which are numerous in our neighborhood, but there are also others.

School is beginning shortly, or has already begun.  Buth public and private schools have first day of classes.  Home schoolers also have their own first day photos and celebrations.  Another calendar year, another school year.  That is in a very real way a change of season.

Vacation days are coming to an end.  Yes, I know some can vacation during the fall and winter months, but most of us either like to, or must do that during the summer months when kids are out of school and it’s easier to get to places without having to deal with the snow and ice.

There’s one more change that comes around in these few weeks of late July and early August.  The runners come out.  The runners.  You’ve seen them.  They’re teens who usually are running in a park, along the river, on sidewalks or on running tracks.  They usually don’t run alone, but are in some kind of group.  Most of the time you can hear chatter as they run, especially if it’s a group of teen girls.

They don’t run fast, but run for endurance.  They’re Cross Country participants, I’m guessing, and are getting in shape for competition that begins this fall along with the normal football program for most schools.  These kids will run miles a day, seemingly unfazed by the distance they’ve already run and the distance they have to go.

And that amazes me.  I never was a cross country runner, and ran the mile only once in my life, during my freshman year of high school for phys ed.  I sometimes am sitting out on my back patio when they go by in the park on the path that’s just behind our house.  They’re in a pack of anywhere from 3 to 12, and seem to be effortlessly running at an endurance pace, chatting with each other as they go.

Or I’ll see them along or near the river downtown when I’m out and about down there.  It’s the same thing.  A pack of several, enjoying the time with each other, are running to get and stay in shape for the upcoming Cross Country season.  West High school isn’t that far away from where I usually travel, and I am assuming most of them are from that school, or at least live in nearby housing neighborhoods.

These young people probably don’t stop to appreciate just what their bodies are capable of doing and how effortlessly they can run 6 to 8 miles an hour for long distances.  I’m a little jealous, actually, as I watch, knowing that my running days are largely over, and even if I do go into a trot, it’s not very long until certain body parts begin to hurt more and my breaths become very labored.

The last time I ran, I was out in the park behind our house on my evening walk when it began to rain.  Of course, I was as far from the house as I normally would be on my walking route when the rain began.  So, I began to walk in the sprinkling rain, which soon became more of a downpour.  I became concerned for my hearing aids getting wet, so I took them off and put them in my handkerchief, which was still somewhat dry and carried them wrapped up in my fist.  And yes, I do check the weather and local radar before I go out.  At the time I left the house, there was no rain within 30 miles of me.  This rain cloud evidently formed and started downpouring in about 10 to 15 minutes time pretty much overhead.

I was about 200 yards from the house, and even though I was soaked, decided to try to run a short distance.  Surprisingly, I made it almost the entire 200 yards before I became winded and had to walk the rest of the way.  I didn’t run fast…about 5 to 6 miles an hour.  That’s about the limit of my speed nowadays when running.

I’m happy to see these young people out running, even though there’s a tinge of jealousy when I do.  It pleases me to see that they are working to keep in shape and, even though they appear to be chatting and having a good time while practicing, they are doing some of the hard things in life.  Cross Country isn’t easy.  Both of our boys ran it in high school.  It takes endurance, commitment, energy, drive, and sweat.  The public rewards aren’t great because football takes all the glamour and glory.  Not many get out and watch the cross country meets.

The next time you see a gaggle of teens casually running down the sidewalk or along a path, you can probably assume they’re in cross country or perhaps the football program.  Smile a little and offer some private encouragement and, if you’ve a mind to, a prayer for their safety and health.

 

Blessings,

Right Use of our Minds

 Good afternoon.

 A few days ago, I was in our multi-purpose area of the church building.  I noticed someone setting up chairs and tables for a grief group meeting later that evening.  I engaged him in some conversation, and a short time later learned that he was my first cousin once removed.  Now, you may not be fully aware of what a “once-removed” cousin is, so I’ll tell you.  First cousins are people who have parents who are siblings.  If my dad and your mom are brother and sister, that makes us first cousins.

Once-removed first cousins are people, one of whom has a parent who is a sibling to another person who is a grand parent to the cousin once removed.  So, if my dad and your grandmother are siblings, you are a first cousin once removed in relation to me.

In any event, we reconnected and talked about relatives now gone.  I’ll call him Jim.  Jim’s grandmother was my aunt on my dad’s side of the family.  His father Vernon, my aunt’s son, was a Psychiatrist.  His practice began, I think, in the later 1950’s.  He had a long and successful career in that field of practice.

What makes that unusual was the fact that Jim’s family was part of a faith denomination that, at least in that day, seemed to not fully understand mental health issues and tended to either dismiss them or treat those illnesses as something mysterious and unknown.  Those who suffered from mental health issues were often said to be “not right,” a kind of catch-all phrase to explain away something that most didn’t understand and weren’t interested in discussing.  There was even sometimes the notion that something sinister was going on with the mentally ill…that somehow the devil or Satan was involved in creating the state of being “not right.”

I asked Jim how it was that his dad came to be a Psychiatrist at a time when his faith community held a generally negative viewpoint on mental health and mental illness.  Jim told me it all stemmed from a prayer that was given by Vernon’s grandfather Sol…my grandfather too.  Intrigued, I asked him for more information.

Jim told me that back in that day when prayers were given at family gatherings, usually before meals, and usually by the family patriarch, a common sentence of that prayer in that faith tradition would be asking God to, “Give us the right use of our hands.”

Jim told me that when his dad, Vernon, was just a boy of about five years old, he was at one of those family gatherings, and his grandfather Sol was asked to say the blessing before dinner.  As part of his prayer, Sol said, “Give us the right use of our minds,” instead of the normal sentence referring to the right use of hands.

That phrase stuck with the five year old Vernon.  He heard that same phrase more times from Grandfather Sol in the next year or two…then told his mom that he wanted to grow up to help people have the right use of their minds.  That began Vernon on the long road to Psychiatry where he ended his incredible career decades later at Prairie View in Newton, Kansas.

That phrase strikes me as well, even today.  I’m not sure exactly what Sol meant when he invoked the blessing of God to the right use of our minds.  It could have more than one meaning.  But to even consider asking God for such a thing, even today, is not common.  And then…well…it was probably unheard of, except when Sol was praying.

It could mean something similar to the verse of the old hymn, “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind.”  The first verse says, “Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways.  Reclothe us in our rightful minds; in purer lives our service find.  In deeper reverence, praise.”

We all fall short of God’s expectations.  We all sin.  We all struggle with living pure lives.  We all are participants in “foolish ways.”  Sol was well aware of the “foolish ways” of mankind.  His life was not a bed of roses, in part due to the “foolish ways” of both himself and others.  That phrase may be a plea for God to help us live pure lives of service.

Or, it could mean exactly what Vernon had in mind…asking God to heal our mental health issues and give us minds that we can use which are free of those struggles.  Sol had a son, Robert, that “wasn’t right,” as many phrased it, and died young back in the 1920’s.  Sol may well have had Robert in mind, which could have been the impetus for that sentence in his prayers.  And God very well could respond positively to that plea by sending people who are especially equipped, such as Vernon was, to help people regain the right use of their minds.

Either way, that sentence in those prayers had an effect…a positive effect…and it seems that God answered that prayer by sending Vernon into the psychiatric profession...possibly along with countless others…in service to humanity to give us “the right use of our minds.”

 

Let It Go

 As I was driving into work this morning, I happened to think of what it might be like to have my mom and dad in the pickup with me, shadowing me as I did my daily routine of work today.  My parents were born in the 19-teens and were young adults during the Great Depression.  They married at the end of the 1930’s decade and both passed away in the 1980’s.  They lived in small towns pretty much all their lives and raised their family in a small town in Kansas.

They both worked hard all their working lives, and often, I think, were just a hop and skip away from not having enough to feed their growing family…although we never knew that until later on in life when we siblings reminisced about some things that happened from time to time while we were growing up.

They also were trusting.  They left their keys in their vehicles.  They didn’t lock the house up when they went somewhere.  They left garage doors open, things out in the yard, and generally weren’t that cognizant of nefarious things that might happen.  And pretty much nothing DID happen.

I first have to wonder what they would think of the home we live in.  Four bedrooms, three baths, and more room in just the main floor than the entire house where six of us were raised.  The lower level of our house adds another amount of square footage that exceeds the entire house where we lived as kids.  Our home backs up to a park…a park with deep woods, a creek, and paths for people, bicycles, and horses.  This kind of thing would have been unthinkable in their day except for the most financially favored of the day, and would have been grossly extravagant spending in their opinion.

As I drove into town to work, I wondered what they would have thought of round-abouts…you know, those things at intersections which are supposed to result in better traffic flow.  I wondered how Dad would have navigated the traffic had he been driving.  I thought about all the businesses I passed on my way to work and wondered what they would have thought about all of the shops, small businesses, apartment complexes, and big box stores.

I don’t know what they would have thought about the homeless I saw on my way in to work.  As products of the Great Depression, they were people who raised their own food, sewed their own clothes, and built (actually, remodeled and expanded) their own house, I wonder if they could even comprehend the idea of someone not being able to feed, clothe, and house himself.

The Paxton’s Blessing Box on the outside of our building…what would they have thought about our putting food in the box for anyone to take?  How would they react if they sat in on one of my interviews with someone who couldn’t pay their electric or water bill and needed help?  What would they say about the fact that we have security check out church property each night multiple times during the night, and sometimes have to tell a person loitering on the property to leave?  How would they react to our building being locked down even when we are here and inside?  And what would they say knowing the government is interested in how we maintain our fire sprinkler system, our emergency lighting, and our chair lift that is on our basement stairs at the church?

You see that I’ve not mentioned cellular communications, the Internet, or any of that.  I’ve stayed with some of the more, shall we say, basic things in the modern world.  The “gee-whiz” stuff such as flat screen television and world wide instant communication, artificial intelligence, video streaming, 300 channel cable television, self-driving cars, and the like would be as foreign to them as galactic space travel might be to us.

But, my parents aren’t here…they’re not with me today as I go about my daily tasks at the building.  And it’s probably just as well that they aren’t.  They would be hard-pressed to fit in and understand the changes that have taken place.  It was beginning to be like that back in the 1980’s as they went into their final years.  And it would be all the more difficult now to have any kind of understanding of what society is like in the modern day.

And, you know, it will be the same for us.  We too, if suddenly transported into society forty or fifty years down the road, would have a difficult time comprehending, understanding, and getting along.  We might well feel just as lost as my parents might should they suddenly experience today’s society.

Change is constant.  While we’re part of it, it’s easier to cope with it and often embrace it.  When we’ve been away from it for awhile, it’s more difficult to catch up, and sometimes we never get caught up.  And as we age, it often becomes less important to us to try to keep up.  I’m finding myself in a sort of a middle ground with this.  In some ways, I like to keep current, but in other ways, I’m satisfied to just let it go.  I’m guessing it’s much the same with you if you are approaching or are past about 70 years old.  That’s just the way life often is.

Thanks for listening this week.  Blessings.

 

Looking Upstream

 Good morning!

We in the Wichita area are hearing a lot about the MAC…the multi-agency center that is being constructed to help address what many call the homeless situation.  The center, which now has the name “Second Light,” is a place where not only is shelter offered for men and women, but there also are many agencies which have a presence in that same place where the unhoused can find “one stop” services, help, and support.  They don’t have to go from this place to that…from this building on the East side of town to that building on the West side…the essential services and support are right there in one physical place.

Over 120 non-profits and agencies are interested in having a presence in the center.  Health care, mental health, veterans’ services, faith-based services, housing, assistance with getting identification, and other services will be offered to those who choose to avail themselves of those services.

The shelter isn’t just for overnight stays.  It’s open 24-7 so those who shelter there don’t have to continually move around or find safe places to store their personal effects.  Shelter operators anticipate stays of 90 to 120 days will be needed in many cases in order to provide the kind of help through the partner agencies that the unhoused will be needing.

All of this is well and good…and necessary.  However, there is also a concerted effort to “go upstream,” as it were…to look beyond the unhoused in order to determine the causes of homelessness and address those concerns BEFORE someone drops into the culture of the unhoused.

One of the things I do at RiverWalk is the benevolence.  Over the past ten or so years I’ve been doing this, I have been amazed at the number of people who are barely hanging on…barely meeting their need for housing…shelter…food…transportation…job.  Many of these people are literally…and I do mean literally…one tank of gasoline from homelessness…one unpaid utility bill away from having to live in their car or on the street…one filled prescription medication away from not being able to maintain a job or home…one flat tire away from having no transportation which will take them to that job.

Think about it.  If one’s gas tank is empty and their job is ten miles away from their house, they may not  be able to get to work.  And many who employ general laborers, which is what many of these folks are, don’t take kindly to no-shows, even if for legitimate reasons.

If their electricity is turned off for non-payment, they may be evicted.  And with an eviction on their record, it will be difficult if not impossible to find other housing.  IF they happen to be in a Section 8 or government subsidized home or apartment, having one’s utility services cut off for non-payment is an automatic eviction, with a lifetime ban on ever using Section 8 again.

We at RiverWalk don’t have a large benevolence budget.  So we have to be careful in how we use it.  Of course, we help our members with whatever they need.  But for non-members…those who show up at the door or make a phone call, we are limited in what we can do.  We have chosen to do what we can to help those who are on the brink of being unhoused stay in their homes.

Depending on the situation, we can sometimes pump a tank of gas into a vehicle that is used for work, school, or medical appointments.  And we can also sometimes help with a utility bill to keep the lights, gas, or water turned on…again, depending on the situation.

These helps aren’t automatic.  The one seeking help must come to the office and submit to an interview.  We limit how often one can ask for help.  We limit the amount of help.  And we try to guide them to other resources that may be available.

We also operate a food pantry that can help with food and sometimes hygiene items or things like laundry detergent, toothpaste, etc.  We will offer them the information on that ministry as well.

We keep track of the help we provide.  We have an extensive record that goes back several years.  Some people have asked for help many times.  Others just once or twice.  We do our best to treat each person with human dignity…to be a neighbor (according to the teachings of Jesus Christ) to the one asking for help…and to listen to their story.  Listening…just listening…is a vital part of what we do.

It may surprise you to know how many times someone has thanked me with obvious gratitude for just listening to them and conversing with them, even when I’ve told them we cannot help them.  It certainly has surprised me over the years.

I don’t know how many people we have been able to keep off of the street over the last ten or so years because we gave them a tank of gasoline or paid a utility bill.  I suspect the number is well into the hundreds.

As my friend Jennifer White has said, “I may not be able to do everything, but I can do something.”  May God bless the efforts of a multitude of people who are working daily to redeem the creation…to make their corner of the world a better place for all…and bring about positive change in our society.

Blessings,

God in the Ordinary

 Good afternoon.

I haven’t done one of these thoughts for a week or two…at least on Thursdays.  Last week we were at a reunion in Illinois, and this week I spent Thursday catching up on the work I missed while in Illinois.  But there’s always Friday, I guess.

I don’t really have a lot to say even though we spent several days in Illinois or driving to or from that state.  We don’t hurry anymore when we go some place.  We stayed in Des Moines both going and coming back and made the trip a two-day affair each way.  Neither of us can weather those twelve hour road trips anymore with any kind of comfort, so we try to split it up if possible.

There were over 40 at the annual Plank reunion over the Independence Day weekend.  Some have “reunioned” ever since the tradition began some forty or so years ago.  Others come when they can, and we always, it seems, have a newcomer or two due to marriage, birth, adoption, or just a friend.  We welcome all who have good connections with the family and have a good time during the three days we are together.

We generally avoid politics and religion, which, I think, helps everything hold together.  We run the gamut in the family on both of those topics.  And we usually have enough to talk about just catching up on things that those topics rarely come up with any kind of serious nature.  Most all of us respect the views of the others and try not to antagonize or start some kind of conflict.  The six of us siblings made the promise long ago that we would stay together as a family following the deaths of our parents.  And I think we’ve done a pretty good job of that.

It’s the middle of the summer, and that means the heat and often the humidity are higher than a cat’s back when she’s in fighting mood.  We have had a decent amount of rainfall over the past month or so, and things continue to grow and look pretty good outside.  I’m thinking, though, that there will come some kind of hot dry spell…there usually is…before it’s all over and the autumn cool breezes come our way.

I’m not sitting out on the back patio nearly as much as I have been…due to the heat and humidity…and also the mosquitos.  I usually like to do that and listen to the varieties of birds in the area; however, there aren’t as many during the summer…or at least they don’t’ make themselves known with their singing.

I usually can hear a cardinal, a Carolina wren or two, a dove, and sometimes robins and the occasional woodpecker gnawing away on a dead branch somewhere close by.  The spring influx of migratory birds as well as the corresponding fall influx just doesn’t happen over the summer months as birds have found their places, built nests, are raising their young, and carrying on with life and living.

And we are quite often like that.  Sometimes we can take time off and “sing” so to speak by going on vacation, attending a reunion, visiting relatives, or taking on some other special event or thing.  But most of our time is spent doing the usual…the routine…the ordinary events and things in life.  We make our homes livable.  We raise our kids (or help with the grand kids).  We wash clothes, do the laundry, pay the bills, and a hundred other “ordinary” things in life every day.

Most of life consists of the ordinary…the routine.  James Carroll, in a recent book he wrote called “Christ Actually…The Son of God for the Secular Age”, says “The presence of God lies in what is ordinary.”

Skylar Spradlin, writing in an article called “The Power of Ordinary Moments,” says this:  “We should not ignore or neglect the small, ordinary, and simple moments of life.  God doesn’t necessarily flaunt Himself in the big, grand events of the day, but He is working, and dare we say hiding, in the mundane and ordinary aspects of our lives.”

It can be difficult at best to see how God is at work when we are folding laundry, cleaning up a mess on the bathroom floor, or driving to the store in heavy traffic.  But maybe that’s because we aren’t looking for Him there.  Maybe we’re looking for him to swoop down in some kind of majesty and power, and fix our problems with something akin to magic.  But life doesn’t go that way.  It often is the ordinary slogging through our chores and, if you make one, our “to do” list that we encounter God.

Just as the birds in their summer busy season already know, we may not be able to see Him in the ordinary even if we try our best.  But He indeed is there and is loving on you even as you burn the toast or break a glass on the floor.

There is much truth in the line from that old children’s song “He Loves Me Too.”  “God sees the little sparrow fall; it meets his tender view.  If God so loved the little birds, I know he loves me too.”

Blessings,

The Things We Say and Do

 Good afternoon, and welcome to windy Kansas.  I’m doing this thought on Friday afternoon, and the wind has come up from the south hot and strong.  I’m not sure of the temperature, but it feels like middle 90’s out there.  What a change from just a couple of days ago when we were dealing with flooding rains, downed trees, and low clouds.

 I’ve been thinking this week about something we rarely, it seems think about until it’s too late.  The things we say and do, or conversely don’t say and don’t do, often have far-reaching effects far beyond our own sphere, and often beyond anything we could ever have imagined.  I’m thinking this week specifically of things we might do that are in some way contrary to ethics, morals, and right living, but this can also apply to things we do that are good, kind, right, and decent.

 Think for example of some kind of sexual indiscretion done by someone to or with another.  That kind of thing can easily “blow up,” so to speak, and involve not only those two who were involved, but also spouses of the two, families, friends, fellow employees and employers, and can also involve law enforcement, the court system, and have far-reaching consequences for decades to come.

 Or think of something good and decent.  Think of someone who goes a little “above and beyond,” and for example buys a tank of gasoline for someone else who couldn’t afford it at the time.  That too can have far-reaching ripple effects in that person now being able to go to work, not losing his or her job because of absence, take kids to the doctor, or one of any number of things that would require transportation in this modern day.

 The job thing…if that person could keep her job, she wouldn’t be evicted from her apartment because she couldn’t pay the rent.  She wouldn’t be homeless.  Her kids would continue to have food on the table.  She could get medication for herself or her family.  And the list of good ripple effects just goes on and on because someone decided to spend a few dollars on a tank of gasoline for someone else.

 The things we say and do, or conversely don’t say or don’t do, can even have effects far down the road…years and even decades later.  An entire generation may be in a different place and situation far in the future because of a small gesture of kindness or because of some kind of indiscretion or moral or ethical failure.

 The same goes, for those who are Christians, for prayer.  Prayer today has the ability to change things for many people…both now and in the future.  It humbles me to know that the prayers of my grand parents, aunts, uncles, Sunday School teachers, and parents decades ago may well be influencing who I am and what I am doing today.  That even my ancestors farther back…centuries ago…may have been praying for their descendants to come much later, and those prayers may be influencing my life right now.

 Remember, God does not change, and God is timeless.  When fervent prayers are said now by, as James says in his New Testament letter, “a righteous person” for unknown people 200 years in the future, God knows…God remembers…and God acts.

 This week has reminded me that I need to not only be aware of those things I say and do…I also need to understand the possible far-reaching effects those actions or inactions have on possible multitudes of others.  And I need to understand that prayer indeed has the power to be effective, not only in the here and now, but for decades and possible centuries to come.  What a wondrous thought that is.

 Blessings.

THOSE Days

 Good morning, and welcome.

I’m sure you’ve had days when you’re ready and eager to get up and take on the activities and events of the day.  You have energy.  You feel good.  Things are going smoothly.  You feel like you’re ready for whatever comes your way.  Your step is light and your cup is full.

Then there are the other days.  Those days when you struggle a bit to get out of bed.  Those days when your energy level is close to “E”.  Those days when you know you’ll have to face events and situations you know you won’t like.  THOSE DAYS.  For some reason, your mental and emotional reserves have been depleted.  You’re running on fumes and need a refill.

And sometimes you know the day before that the next day could well be one of those days.  One of those days when you know you’ll be engaging something or someone that you’d rather not engage.  You may have trouble sleeping that night before.  Your breakfast doesn’t taste good.  And you sort of schlep out the door to face the demons of that day.

Well, that’s my day today.  This is one of  those days when, the evening before, I knew would be a tougher day than most.  I worked late yesterday, came home, ate something, then told the wife that I was mentally exhausted.  I dealt with two major issues yesterday, knowing that they were not even close to being resolved, and knowing I would have to continue the process today and on into the next days.  I napped after I ate, watched some TV, then went to bed, sleeping fitfully for much of the night.

Today the shower felt especially good.  The cereal was OK, but nothing special.  When I went out to the garage and opened the overhead door, there was a light mist falling and the outdoors seemed dreary and foreboding.  I thought to myself that the outdoor mist and foggy clouds were a perfect fit for my mental and emotional state.

As I came in to work, the mist became a drizzle.  The streets became slick.  By the time I got to the church, the drizzle had turned into a light rain, further darkening my mood for the day.  Knowing what may lie ahead in the day didn’t help my mood.

But all wasn’t lost.  When I arrived at work, I was later than normal.  The rest of the crew was already here.  My day immediately became brighter just because of the people I knew were in other offices and places in the building.  These are people I want to be with.  These are people who understand what it’s like sometimes to be mentally and emotionally drained.  These are people who will encourage, mentor, and strengthen me.  These are people who are fellow-workers in the Kingdom of God.

Often when I am facing a particularly difficult challenge, I can gain a new perspective and see things in a different and better way because of our common relationship and desire to help one-another.  The day becomes less dreary and the sun begins to shine…if not literally…at least in a figurative sense as the day progresses.

Today is one of those days.  One of those days when I needed a refill, so to speak, and got it in part by talking with others, and in part by just being in the same place with these my co-workers, friends, and fellow believers.

Do you have such a blessing in your life…a blessing of friends, family, or co-workers that help you make a dreary day better?  Who support and uphold you?  Who provide wise counsel when needed, and keep their tongue when needed?  Are you one of those who uplifts others and helps re-fill the emotional and mental gas tanks of those with whom you interact?  Think about it.

May God bless you and keep you.  May he fill you with the strength and energy you need for the day.  May you be a blessing to others.

Weather

 Good morning, and welcome to this Thursday Thought.

A few evenings ago, the weather was cloudy with a good chance of rain and some wind.  I was watching the weather report on the late news.  The weather person said there was a gust front of wind just to the west of Wichita, moving into the metro area.  Just behind that gust front was a thunderstorm also moving in.

Rather than staying inside while the wind and rain came in, I went outside to experience the change in wind direction, wind speed, and temperature as the gust front moved through.  I didn’t have long to wait.  The wind went calm for just a few seconds, then began picking up steam from a different direction, gradually increasing in speed.  The temperature fell several degrees, and the smell of the air was noticeably different…it smelled of a rain shower.

And, even though it was dark, I could see some very low-level clouds go by in the reflected city light.  The lightning soon came along with thunder…then the first of the rain drops.  I went back inside and let the storm come on through.

I don’t know if you’ve ever done something like that.  I like to be outside and watch those kinds of weather changes come along.  There’s something about being out in the weather when a change comes that makes me grateful to be alive to experience it.

One of the more recent autumns, the air had been muggy, warm, and sticky for many days.  We were well into October, I think, but had not had any push of cooler air from the north to drive out the sticky, muggy air from the south.  I had heard on the weather report one evening that a cold front was coming through and was just about to Wichita.  The front was to bring much cooler temperatures, much less humidity, and the promise of colder weather ahead.  I went outside and just waited for the front to show up at our house.

I didn’t have to wait long.  The wind from the south slowed down rapidly, became calm for about 20 seconds, then the first whiffs of the cooler air came to me along with a change in wind direction.  For a few seconds, the muggy, humid air mixed with the cooler air, but eventually the cool air won, and I knew the warm, muggy days of that autumn were over, probably for the next several months.  I noticed a real internal sense of change in my mind…knowing that it would no longer be as it had been for so long…that winter was indeed coming.

The weather has always been something I’ve enjoyed keeping up with and learning about…even the uncomfortable hot and cold weather…the snowy, icy, rainy weather…the wind…the hail…and yes, even the severe weather.  It’s just something I’ve done over the years, and probably will continue to do until I no longer can.

But there’s a little more to this than just enjoying keeping up with the weather.  Weather often reminds me of things spiritual.  No, I don’t believe the weather itself is some kind of god or spiritual entity.  But I do believe that the God of the universe created the weather especially for the earth…that what happens is intentional and ultimately for the good of the creation.  I believe God can and sometimes does intervene in weather situations…often, I think, in response to the fervent prayers of righteous people.

Observing and learning about the weather, especially on a part of the earth known for extremes, is often for me an exercise in worship and thanksgiving, gratefulness and praise.  I see the power of a thunderstorm in the lightning and wind, or the results of a badly-needed rain in the growth of plants and cleansing of the environment.  I marvel at times at how even weather phenomena such as hurricanes actually help preserve the environment.  As I understand it, among other things, they move heat energy from one place to another and cause beneficial rains and other forms of weather that are actually good for the earth as a whole.  Yes, they can be destructive when they move over places built up by humans.  But they also can and are very beneficial to the environment and the climate of the earth.

The weather is just one aspect of the creation that God has beautifully and perfectly put together…for his own glory as well as for the benefit of mankind and all the rest of the creation.  We need to respect the power and destructive potential of the winds and rains.  But we also need to thank God for His provision and care as we watch His handiwork continue to unfold in the clouds, the rains, the winds, and the snows.

May God bless you this week as you continue to serve Him.

Under the Weather

 Good morning, and welcome to this Thursday Thought.

I didn’t post a video last week because I was somewhat under the weather with some kind of respiratory virus.  I suppose the general category of virus would be a cold, but anymore, who knows.  There are two hundred and some viruses that cause some kind of respiratory symptoms.  I have to wonder if they can all be categorized as “cold” viruses.

In any event, I was upright, but not feeling well.  Rest, liquids, and over-the-counter medications seemed to be the orders of the days during the worst part of it.  This one began to show up two weeks ago with just a kind of general malaise and feeling a bit “off.”  It graduated to a full-blown attack a little over a week ago, and is just now getting to the point that I don’t feel the need for the over-the-counter meds.

I saw my provider last week for another reason, but had him check me out for pneumonia or other possible health effects from the virus.  He cleared me, saying he thought it was just a virus that would run itself out in another week or so.  I tested negative for COVID and with the assurance from the doctor that there was no pneumonia or ancillary infection cropping up, stuck it out.

Respiratory illnesses for older people can be serious.  It is estimated that the geriatric population is nine times more likely to succumb to one of the hundreds of respiratory illnesses than younger populations.  Thankfully, this one didn’t rise to that level.

There are complicating and mitigating factors regarding geriatric morbidity.  General health and wellness, smoking or other exposure to lung-damaging substances, the condition of one’s immune system, whether one has received vaccinations for flu, RSV, COVID, etc., and other factors play into one’s susceptibility to a serious bout with a respiratory infection.

Now, I don’t intend for this to be a medical treatise on respiratory illnesses and ailments.  But I do believe that caring for ourselves properly can go a long way toward a better outcome when we do become under the weather with some kind of respiratory illness.  Of course, the time to do a lot of the caring comes long decades before the age of geriatrics.  How we care for ourselves when we’re in our teens, twenties, and thirties can often make a huge difference in how well we weather the storms of colds, flu, and other respiratory illnesses.

Yet those ages are often the times when we’re the least careful.  We seem to have lots of energy then.  We are relatively healthy then.  We often think of ourselves as pretty much invincible, not concerned about how things might be three, four, or five decades later.  Yet the damage, even though unseen and unfelt, is done.  And that damage comes front and center decades later when some kind of an illness hits.  We don’t have the reserves we once had.  We are in a weakened condition.  And some of us never get back out of the hole that the illness put us into.

As is often the case, God has something to say about how we care for ourselves.  There are scriptures which speak of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual self-care.  We are concentrating today on the physical aspects of self-care, so the following will refer to that.  However, don’t neglect those other aspects of self-care.

In Mark 6:31, Jesus himself tells his disciples to take some time off for rest and recouperation.  Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”

In I Corinthians 6:19, Paul is more direct.  Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own;  you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.

One more.  This verse is not often thought of as referring to self-care, but the principle it states is very much involved in how we care for ourselves.

I Corinthians 10:31  So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

I don’t know what your overall state of health is.  What I do know is that most of us can make some improvements in how we care for ourselves.  And if you’re a younger person seeing this, begin to think about the years ahead and seek now to keep yourself in good physical, mental, emotional, and most of all spiritual condition.  I think you’ll be glad you did.

Blessings.

Be Still

 Good morning, and welcome to this Thursday Thought.

We had occasion to do a day trip yesterday to a rural part of the state.  By rural, I am referring to a place with very few people, lots of livestock, and not much else.  The town we visited had no more than about 100 residents.  It was located in the middle of prairie and farm land.  A highway that didn’t have a lot of traffic ran on one side of it, and a railroad ran beside the highway.

We spent several hours there on business for the church.  During that time, there was a time when we had nothing to do and were waiting on someone else.  I went outside then and noticed a few birds calling.  I didn’t recognize one or two of them, so took out my phone and started my Merlin bird app.  If you aren’t familiar with Merlin, it is an app that listens to your environment and identifies birds by the sounds of their calls.  It seems to be very accurate, and is extremely sensitive to the most distant and soft calls.

The app recognized fourteen different species of bird the first time I used it.  Several minutes later I tried it again.  It recognized sixteen different species.  Although there was considerable overlap on species between the two recordings, there were combined twenty distinct species of birds recognized by Merlin, and sometimes I actually saw them and recognized them.  This in a place far from any larger city or even town, and a sort of oasis in the prairies of southern Kansas red hills.

Beyond that, however, I noticed something else.  Other than the calling of the birds and the occasional human noise, there was a lot of nothing…quiet.  A train went through one time, breaking the silence, and once in awhile someone traveled the highway about a quarter mile away.  But other than the occasional shriek of a couple of kids who were playing a few blocks away, there was nothing.

We live in Wichita.  It seems that no matter where one is in the city, there is constant noise of some kind.  Sometimes it’s a plane overhead.  Sometimes a siren.  Traffic is everywhere.  There may be a train off in the distance.  The sounds of construction are often mixed in with other noises.

Even indoors, sounds of traffic, aircraft, and other noises filter in through walls and windows.  Someone has a loud muffler.  Someone else is riding a cycle or four-wheeler.  A helicopter goes overhead.  Sirens penetrate even well-insulated walls.  And at times, all of these various sound kind of gel together into a low-pitched, almost imperceptible rumble or roar that just keeps on going.  It never stops.  It never ends.  It never becomes truly quiet like what I heard yesterday in the rural area where we were.

One of the quietest places I regularly visit is our back yard patio.  Our back yard abuts the back side of Pawnee Prairie Park, so there are no neighbors behind us.  We are about a mile from busy Kellogg, and a good distance from Maize Road.  When the weather is right and the wind is cooperative, it is pretty much quiet back there.  I hear plenty of birds, along with the sounds of the park…trees rustling, people walking the paths, and so on.  But there often is, even there, that low-pitched, almost imperceptible rumble of a mish-mash of noises and sounds.  And, of course, Eisenhower airport isn’t far away, so there is often the sound of something taking off or landing.

Noise pollution is a real thing that has real effects on humans, animals, and the environment in general.  It is known that with humans, noise pollution can cause cardiovascular issues as well as mental health issues and other problems such as lack of sleep.  Animal behavior is often altered by noise, and the environment in general can be affected by noise…even under water and in the oceans.  Do your own research if you have an interest.

And, what tends to complicate things for us is that we humans have become somewhat addicted to noise.  We have to have the earbuds in, the radio on, or the TV going in the background.  It seems that music has to be played while we’re on hold.  Offices, restaurants and businesses have some kind of music going on speakers in the ceilings.  Being in a truly silent place tends to make us nervous and unsettled.

I have to wonder if at least part of the tendency to want noise is that noise tends to keep us distracted from thinking.  Being alone in our thoughts.  Pondering the meaning of things.  Digging deeper into ourselves.  Considering things bigger than we are…who are we…why are we here…where are we going.  Many people don’t want to go there…they’d much prefer to not have to think about such weighty things.  Because when those topics come up, invariably, life, death, the afterlife, God, and one’s own shortcomings are part of those thoughts.  And that makes us uncomfortable, nervous, and even anxious.

Maybe we NEED to, as Scripture says, “Be still, and know that I am God.”  Other translations say, “Stop striving.”  “Desist.”  “Calm down.”  “Let be.”  The idea is to deeply ponder the Truth that is God.

Grand Kids

 Good morning, and welcome to this Thursday Thought.

Many of us who are of an older generation have extended families that include grand children.  Pat and I are two of that older generation.  We have eight grand kids all together…six who live in the Wichita area and two who live about fifty or so miles from here.  One of the six in the Wichita area is now attending Fort Hays, so we sometimes travel a bit to take in a concert or some other event.

We see all of them quite often as we attend various school functions, visit them for one reason or another, attend some kind of event, or they come to see us.  We may plan dinner together either at a restaurant or at one of our homes.  Or, we may be called to sit one or more  younger ones or act as a taxi service taking one or more kids to or from school, some kind of practice, or whatever.

They all have their own lives and their own families, but they are also interconnected with the larger families on both sides.  Not just Grandma and Grandpa, but they also know great aunts and uncles, cousins, and others in the families.  And, we also take advantage of any opportunity we have to let them know about our family history…where we came from and who they were who came before us.

We aren’t always one big happy family, but the love, devotion, and deference to one-another keep us together and respectful of our differences even as we share our commonality.  It is indeed a blessing to be part of such a family.

But I want to key in on our grand kids for a moment.  This is the end of the school year.  It’s also the spring of the year.  This is a time when we attend concerts at the schools.  It’s also a time when Grandpa and Grandma often need help with gardening, cleaning, or some other job.  It is these times when we often call on the older grands for help.  They usually don’t mind helping, and, as one of them has said, when she’s helping us she doesn’t have to do dishes, fold clothes or some other chore at home.  And, they usually receive some kind of pay and we often will take them by the Braums or Sonic for something to eat on their way back home.

I was struck, however, a couple of nights ago as we attended a band concert for one of them.  As I sat beside them, visited with them, and enjoyed their company, it occurred to me that, as was said by baseball great Lou Gehrig, I too “…consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.”

Six of our eight grands are girls.  The youngest is in pre-school and the oldest is, as I said earlier, attending Fort Hays as a Sophomore this fall.  The girls are all…every one of them…sassy and happy in their own ways.  They enjoy each other’s company…well, at least most of the time…and also like to be around us old folks…at least for awhile.  They are comfortable with us and we with them.  They are, for the most part, beyond any heavy disciplinary actions and usually listen to us if we ask them to do something.

I enjoy their company, and I especially am grateful for the help of the older grands as we get older and less able to do some things due to arthritic joints, painful hips, or other maladies of aging.  I sometimes wonder if the grands have any idea just how much they mean to us…not just because they can help us out from time to time…but because of the joy and love they bring into our lives.  All of them…every one of them…is a special gift of a loving God to older folks on both sides of the families who drink in their energy, their happiness, and their love.  They refresh and energize us as they grow, learn, and seek their own paths in life.

We grandparents are honored to be part of such a family and have the relationships we have with our grands and with their parents.  But I don’t want to mislead you into thinking we have the perfect family.  No family is perfect.  Every family has its issues.  Ours is no different.  But we have managed, somehow it seems, to make those issues and imperfections a little less important than the relationships.

The hugs from the kids…sometimes “just because”…are much of the glue that holds us together as a family.  A common belief and devotion to the God of the universe, however, is, I think, the foundation upon which it all is built.

Thanks for listening…may God bless your upcoming days.