I love the seasonal song Sleigh Ride, it is such a fun tune and singing along with "You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch" in the car makes Regina roll her eyes, but I love that song, it is so clever. But I must say that the most uplifting song of the season is "It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!" sung by Andy Williams (nobody else does it as well. Johnny Mathis...please..) The tune and the words are hard to sing without a smile. The lyrics give an off handed reference to the reason for it being so wonderful in the words "and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago." This isn't much, but, I guess it makes it a Christmas song.
I celebrate the season because it has been deemed in the Church year as when we start the journey of faith that climaxes with Easter,but I don't have an issue with Andy's truly secular song. It brings me joy. I don't even get tired of seeing Andy lip sync it in the commercials for his show in Branson, Mo. He smiles and gestures just as I remember he did when I was a child watching on a black and white television.(Note to myself, when Andy sings he spreads his arms wide, a great gesture of hospitality.)
For me the lyrics are a great example of how words can influence our minds. I can hear the carolers,see their rosy cheeks and feel the cheer.And the constant ringing in my ears is now the sound of jingle bells. The words are not so specific that my imagination and memory are locked to certain times. It's the "hap-happiest season of all.", and it brings memories and helps fuel new ones.
I'm writing this so I can really think about how this song has changed for me. As I have gotten older (or if you prefer, aged, matured, grown up) the one line in the song that really rings true is "and hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near, it's the most wonderful time of the year." All the other references take me back in memory, but this one line is applicable to NOW! I realize how time is truly passing, passing quickly, I try to remember that that moment, whether it is Christmas or March 13 is the most wonderful time of the year. I am truly blessed with family. At Thanksgiving we were able to take our own family portrait, to which the most recent piece , Jaxon, was added. The fun we had doing it warmed my heart, it was at this point I could have sung "It's the most wonderful time of the year", but there's more to come. Tomorrow night preschool Christmas program, always fun.
So, my friends there you have it. Thanksgiving is a week past, but we are still eating leftover ham and enjoying the heart glow that being with all family can bring.
As our friend Sue E. continually reminds us "It's gonna be Christmas!", but even now, it's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
Peace my friends.
Welcome to Windrock
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Be renewed this Advent Season.
"God our Father, give to the nations of the world a new heart of comradeship, the old man of ignorance and cruelty being done away, and the new man put on, renewed in knowledge, to strengthen and to serve the brethren; that every people may bring its tribute of excellence to the common treasury, without fear, and without the lust of domination, and all the world may go forward in the new and living way which he has consecrated for us, who now lives and reigns, with you and the Spirit of truth, one God, world without end. Amen"
The above is the last part of a responsive prayer for intercession for church, state and world, from the Methodist Book of Worship. Oh, by the way, this was copy write 1944-1945, and was published again in 1952, authorized by the Methodist General Conference held in Kansas City MO. April 26-May 6 1944. If you recall history, the world was in quite a mess back then, and yet Methodist followers of Christ, were praying that not just America, but all the world would find it's way back to God.
Today, it seems that American Christians seem to believe that God has left America and that He can somehow be wooed back if we just clean house and kick out all the people who don't believe in Him.
I might want to go out on a limb here and say that God is still here, just as God is in the presence of believers in Kenya, China, Australia and Everywhere. The problem is not that God needs to be asked back, or have a place cleaned out for God, or all the housekeeping done, so God will come back. Please..... Just as God, in Christ came and brought together men of different backgrounds and made God known to them and through them, so today it is not God's leaving that has made America what it is. It is those who allege to be God's people becoming exclusive in how they present God. If the only way to know God is my way, then the rest of you are in trouble. But I digress.
As we begin this season of Advent, I wonder just what it means to be a Christian who presents God in the way Christ intended. I hope that Christians will actually be aware, that Christ came not to condemn, but to show God's love and to offer a way to God. Jesus didn't come to institute giving gifts, or to make sure that there was a reference to Him (CHRISTmas) from Halloween to December 25. Personally, I think we are wrong if the only way we believe someone knows we are a true believer is if for 40 days we hit the mall with a message of Christ in Christmas sweatshirt. Scripture says that the believers of the new testament were known, make that recognized, not by how they dressed or how holy they were, but how they loved. The love that they showed, I believe, was not just restricted to the houses where they met. I don't think they went out looking for those who already believed, but were showing Christ enough in their lives to have others ask, "Why do you do what you do?"
In the prayer I started with I believe the "new and living way which he has consecrated for us," is not about Christians "values" or American ideas and ideals dominating the world through forcing our "rightness" on others. Christ didn't start a revolution on the political front, but He did revolutionize the hearts of a few, then a few more, then many many more.
This Advent season, I am not asking that God take back America, but that God would take back my heart and use it to God's purpose; to love others as God has loved me!
Peace my friends.
The above is the last part of a responsive prayer for intercession for church, state and world, from the Methodist Book of Worship. Oh, by the way, this was copy write 1944-1945, and was published again in 1952, authorized by the Methodist General Conference held in Kansas City MO. April 26-May 6 1944. If you recall history, the world was in quite a mess back then, and yet Methodist followers of Christ, were praying that not just America, but all the world would find it's way back to God.
Today, it seems that American Christians seem to believe that God has left America and that He can somehow be wooed back if we just clean house and kick out all the people who don't believe in Him.
I might want to go out on a limb here and say that God is still here, just as God is in the presence of believers in Kenya, China, Australia and Everywhere. The problem is not that God needs to be asked back, or have a place cleaned out for God, or all the housekeeping done, so God will come back. Please..... Just as God, in Christ came and brought together men of different backgrounds and made God known to them and through them, so today it is not God's leaving that has made America what it is. It is those who allege to be God's people becoming exclusive in how they present God. If the only way to know God is my way, then the rest of you are in trouble. But I digress.
As we begin this season of Advent, I wonder just what it means to be a Christian who presents God in the way Christ intended. I hope that Christians will actually be aware, that Christ came not to condemn, but to show God's love and to offer a way to God. Jesus didn't come to institute giving gifts, or to make sure that there was a reference to Him (CHRISTmas) from Halloween to December 25. Personally, I think we are wrong if the only way we believe someone knows we are a true believer is if for 40 days we hit the mall with a message of Christ in Christmas sweatshirt. Scripture says that the believers of the new testament were known, make that recognized, not by how they dressed or how holy they were, but how they loved. The love that they showed, I believe, was not just restricted to the houses where they met. I don't think they went out looking for those who already believed, but were showing Christ enough in their lives to have others ask, "Why do you do what you do?"
In the prayer I started with I believe the "new and living way which he has consecrated for us," is not about Christians "values" or American ideas and ideals dominating the world through forcing our "rightness" on others. Christ didn't start a revolution on the political front, but He did revolutionize the hearts of a few, then a few more, then many many more.
This Advent season, I am not asking that God take back America, but that God would take back my heart and use it to God's purpose; to love others as God has loved me!
Peace my friends.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Old...New....Now...
On October 8, 2009, our newest grandson was born, Jaxon Scott. His proud mom and dad, Tonya and Jason are joyful and grateful for his arrival. I say, good timing Jaxon, we needed you to complete the family and now it's Christmas, your first Christmas. We can't wait, you might even get a hula hoop....
New grandson, old grandpa.
Old and new are two 3 letter words that are so very powerful, that they stand alone in descriptive grammar. At my age, not old age, but age, I have become more sensitive, or perhaps aware of old versus new. The observation of "everything old is new again" surely is applicable in our world today.
A few years ago when Chrysler announced the NEW retro looking PT Cruiser, the demand could not be met. Those who had lusted for a street rod built from a 1940's roadster wanted to fulfill their dream, sort of. It seemed odd that a retro street rod was a sedan. Then when the NEW Dodge Charger, a dream muscle car from the 1970's, was rumored to be coming on the scene, again, every baby boomer lined up or dreamed. Then it came, the 4 door version of the Hemi Charger. The boomers wanted the coolness of the name, with the convenience of being able to dismount the rear seat easily. Old, new, but not the same. Then came the re-invention of the Mustang, and the reintroduction of the Dodge Challenger and Chevy Camero, old names brand new cars, (these did stay 2 door hardtops). Nostalgia for the name, but not for the uncomfortable ride and simple vinyl seats and no seat belts, not to mention the inflated price tag. Even the plain vanilla Ford Taurus is back, NEW. I'm waiting for the Dodge Dart to come back, it wasn't cool when I had mine back in the '70's, but please no bucket seats, give me the front bench.
I really didn't start out to write about cars, but in our culture, they seem to be at the top of the list of things that can take us back to a time when, it seems in our minds, that times were better and time moved slower.
New and Old, what is it in these two simple words that can trigger reactions in our minds and in our hearts that can knock us off track in life.
New means many things. Fresh, unused, shiny and exciting often accompany new in it's journeys. For most of its' time new is being pushed on us as what we should want. New and improved, new and exciting, new and more powerful, faster, greener, etc. Old often is seen as the opposite of new, but I'm not agreeing with that. But I do know that for many, new and old both bring the same emotion; FEAR. For all the times that we are preparing for a new experience, for a new time in our life, we are wondering "Is this new really necessary?", the old worked just fine. And sometimes we convince ourselves it's true and we stay in the old. Every person in every generation past, and all that are now alive deal with new and old everyday. Old technology was new once, the telephone, the television, recorded music, or movies: tubes, vinyl, tape, digital; cars: gas, hybrid, diesel. The new is different, but to everyone, it is not always better.
Old is stuck, new is not stuck.... yet. I know While I know I'm getting older, and the evidence in the mirror when I look at my white beard, in my mind I am the same person as when my beard was darker 10 years ago. This self perception can be brought into focus in unexpected ways as in this personal example.
Not long ago, Logan, the oldest (11 years old) grandson, noticed a picture of Regina and me on display in our house. This was one of those church directory photos. We were all smiles and young, I think it was taken in 1989. As we walked through the room, he saw the picture and asked,"Is that supposed to be you and Gigi?". I was somewhat taken aback, "supposed to be?" Of course it was us, old us, or newer us, I don't know. That's the catch, is the old me newer, or is the current me, newer me, older? This old me knows so much more than the the newer me.
What I really realize is that new and old are not exclusive. The only way that they become exclusive is if we stop becoming. Many times we hold onto the old because we feel it defines who we are, but as Logan pointed out, the picture in our mind, is who we suppose we are, not who we really are. The reality is that neither old or new are where we live. Where we live is Now, and pining for either the past or the future is not a prescription for living the abundant life Christ has promised us. If I buy a 1970 or a 2010 Dodge Challenger it will not transport me back to the life I had then. This is now, my life then was new, but now it's old.
Here's something old that helps me in my perspective of new and old, it may help you too (or not). It's from the OLD Testament, a very old book, Ecclesiastes. The reference is more about young and old, but the truth does not change.
This is from "The Message" a paraphrase version by Eugene Peterson.
From chapter 11:
"Oh, how sweet the light of day,
And how wonderful to live in the sunshine!
Even if you live a long time, don't take a single day for granted.
Take delight in each light-filled hour,
Remembering that there will also be many dark days"
And that most of what comes your way is smoke.
From chapter 12:
"Life, lovely while it lasts, is soon over.
Life as we know it, precious and beautiful, ends.
The body is put back in the same ground it came from.
The spirit returns to God, who first breathed it. "
And so it goes, the writer says, new or old, "It's all smoke, nothing but smoke.
And then further down, "The words of the wise prod us to live well. They're like nails hammered home, holding life together. They are given by God, the one Shepherd."
I'm living in the smoke of my 55th year, and I am trying to adopt this attitude, letting the wisdom of my old self and my newly wise friends nail my new and old existence together until the smoke clears.
Whether this blog made much sense or not, I hope you will find a way to live as the writer of Ecclesiastes also states in Chapter 11. "Live footloose and fancy free--- you won't be young forever.... " and neither will I, someday I'll be old, but not now!
Peace my friends!
New grandson, old grandpa.
Old and new are two 3 letter words that are so very powerful, that they stand alone in descriptive grammar. At my age, not old age, but age, I have become more sensitive, or perhaps aware of old versus new. The observation of "everything old is new again" surely is applicable in our world today.
A few years ago when Chrysler announced the NEW retro looking PT Cruiser, the demand could not be met. Those who had lusted for a street rod built from a 1940's roadster wanted to fulfill their dream, sort of. It seemed odd that a retro street rod was a sedan. Then when the NEW Dodge Charger, a dream muscle car from the 1970's, was rumored to be coming on the scene, again, every baby boomer lined up or dreamed. Then it came, the 4 door version of the Hemi Charger. The boomers wanted the coolness of the name, with the convenience of being able to dismount the rear seat easily. Old, new, but not the same. Then came the re-invention of the Mustang, and the reintroduction of the Dodge Challenger and Chevy Camero, old names brand new cars, (these did stay 2 door hardtops). Nostalgia for the name, but not for the uncomfortable ride and simple vinyl seats and no seat belts, not to mention the inflated price tag. Even the plain vanilla Ford Taurus is back, NEW. I'm waiting for the Dodge Dart to come back, it wasn't cool when I had mine back in the '70's, but please no bucket seats, give me the front bench.
I really didn't start out to write about cars, but in our culture, they seem to be at the top of the list of things that can take us back to a time when, it seems in our minds, that times were better and time moved slower.
New and Old, what is it in these two simple words that can trigger reactions in our minds and in our hearts that can knock us off track in life.
New means many things. Fresh, unused, shiny and exciting often accompany new in it's journeys. For most of its' time new is being pushed on us as what we should want. New and improved, new and exciting, new and more powerful, faster, greener, etc. Old often is seen as the opposite of new, but I'm not agreeing with that. But I do know that for many, new and old both bring the same emotion; FEAR. For all the times that we are preparing for a new experience, for a new time in our life, we are wondering "Is this new really necessary?", the old worked just fine. And sometimes we convince ourselves it's true and we stay in the old. Every person in every generation past, and all that are now alive deal with new and old everyday. Old technology was new once, the telephone, the television, recorded music, or movies: tubes, vinyl, tape, digital; cars: gas, hybrid, diesel. The new is different, but to everyone, it is not always better.
Old is stuck, new is not stuck.... yet. I know While I know I'm getting older, and the evidence in the mirror when I look at my white beard, in my mind I am the same person as when my beard was darker 10 years ago. This self perception can be brought into focus in unexpected ways as in this personal example.
Not long ago, Logan, the oldest (11 years old) grandson, noticed a picture of Regina and me on display in our house. This was one of those church directory photos. We were all smiles and young, I think it was taken in 1989. As we walked through the room, he saw the picture and asked,"Is that supposed to be you and Gigi?". I was somewhat taken aback, "supposed to be?" Of course it was us, old us, or newer us, I don't know. That's the catch, is the old me newer, or is the current me, newer me, older? This old me knows so much more than the the newer me.
What I really realize is that new and old are not exclusive. The only way that they become exclusive is if we stop becoming. Many times we hold onto the old because we feel it defines who we are, but as Logan pointed out, the picture in our mind, is who we suppose we are, not who we really are. The reality is that neither old or new are where we live. Where we live is Now, and pining for either the past or the future is not a prescription for living the abundant life Christ has promised us. If I buy a 1970 or a 2010 Dodge Challenger it will not transport me back to the life I had then. This is now, my life then was new, but now it's old.
Here's something old that helps me in my perspective of new and old, it may help you too (or not). It's from the OLD Testament, a very old book, Ecclesiastes. The reference is more about young and old, but the truth does not change.
This is from "The Message" a paraphrase version by Eugene Peterson.
From chapter 11:
"Oh, how sweet the light of day,
And how wonderful to live in the sunshine!
Even if you live a long time, don't take a single day for granted.
Take delight in each light-filled hour,
Remembering that there will also be many dark days"
And that most of what comes your way is smoke.
From chapter 12:
"Life, lovely while it lasts, is soon over.
Life as we know it, precious and beautiful, ends.
The body is put back in the same ground it came from.
The spirit returns to God, who first breathed it. "
And so it goes, the writer says, new or old, "It's all smoke, nothing but smoke.
And then further down, "The words of the wise prod us to live well. They're like nails hammered home, holding life together. They are given by God, the one Shepherd."
I'm living in the smoke of my 55th year, and I am trying to adopt this attitude, letting the wisdom of my old self and my newly wise friends nail my new and old existence together until the smoke clears.
Whether this blog made much sense or not, I hope you will find a way to live as the writer of Ecclesiastes also states in Chapter 11. "Live footloose and fancy free--- you won't be young forever.... " and neither will I, someday I'll be old, but not now!
Peace my friends!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Happy Hour.
" Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God." Psalms 146, vs 5 KJV
Nearly every week I am in some town other than the one I call home. As I drive around searching for a grocery store that I am supposed to work in, I pass many places that have on their marquee's "Happy Hour" begins at such and such time. Fast food places like Sonic, Arby's and others equate having a happy hour with getting cheap soft drinks or shakes or something like that. Other more "adult themed" places also sell drinks cheaper during Happy Hour and know that even if you feel worse when you leave, your money will make them happy.
So why is it, in my journeys, I have yet to see on a church marquee' any mention of "Happy Hour"? Instead there is some wise saying that comes from Readers' Digest, or these days from a website that will supply them with witty sayings, usually, not even from the Bible.
These church signs will also list times for Sunday School, Contemporary Worship service, or Praise Worship and Traditional Worship, Prayer meeting and Choir practice on Wednesday evening and kids programs that have to do with constructing little lives so they become little Christians. I would like to see at least once a church sign like the following: "Happy Hours, Sunday morning 8:30 and 11:00, Joyous learning experience at 9:45. Drinks, donuts and pastries FREE! "
So really, is there a Happy Hour in church?
I personally have been "doing church" ever since I can remember, and have been in the pew and on the stage, and to be honest, it seems that the only part of Sunday morning that qualifies for Happy Hour would be the Sunday School hour. That's the part where the food and fellowship happen.
Now, you may differ with me and say, "Dan, I'm always happy for an opportunity to worship God, and hear a good sermon and good music." Really, coulda fooled me. Not just me, even I fool me I think sometimes. Am I happy to be there with my fellow Christians listening to a sermon that sounds so familiar that I dismiss it because my mind is going other places? Or is it just that I am happy to be able to "practice" my faith and demonstrate that in America we can freely gather to worship.
I don't want to sound too harsh, but from the way church parking lots around every town look in the summer, it seems that Sunday morning Happy Hour is more in tune with the lake or baseball or kids having to be somewhere to further their future scholarship status. It seems all of these are happier places to be than at church worshiping the God who we turn to in crisis.
We say, "Please God, if you'll just take away this pain(bad situation, debt, consequence, etc,) I'll be happy to do whatever it is you want me to do. Please people.
Seriously, I have been looking in the mirror of me and can speak only from this spot on the planet that I occupy, and I have to admit to God and myself that being in church on Sunday morning isn't always a warm fuzzy. The reason for this I think is not that God is making me miserable by requiring me to be in church (He does you know, "...don't forsake the gathering together.), but again, as usual, my misery is due to my focus being a little off center, the center being Christ who lives in me. My off center is the focus being on, you guessed it, me being happy, the way I want to be happy. Because I'm focused on me, well, I want my way not Christ's way. So, back to Happy Hour. If there is any time I should be really happy, it is when I am in the presence of God, in the company of the saints in my local congregation. Why wouldn't it be? And that is the question, dear friends that I am going to leave you also to ponder.
My friend Tom(who does see worship in church as Happy Hour) loved to quote Psalm 122, vs 1 "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord."
Peace, my friends.
Nearly every week I am in some town other than the one I call home. As I drive around searching for a grocery store that I am supposed to work in, I pass many places that have on their marquee's "Happy Hour" begins at such and such time. Fast food places like Sonic, Arby's and others equate having a happy hour with getting cheap soft drinks or shakes or something like that. Other more "adult themed" places also sell drinks cheaper during Happy Hour and know that even if you feel worse when you leave, your money will make them happy.
So why is it, in my journeys, I have yet to see on a church marquee' any mention of "Happy Hour"? Instead there is some wise saying that comes from Readers' Digest, or these days from a website that will supply them with witty sayings, usually, not even from the Bible.
These church signs will also list times for Sunday School, Contemporary Worship service, or Praise Worship and Traditional Worship, Prayer meeting and Choir practice on Wednesday evening and kids programs that have to do with constructing little lives so they become little Christians. I would like to see at least once a church sign like the following: "Happy Hours, Sunday morning 8:30 and 11:00, Joyous learning experience at 9:45. Drinks, donuts and pastries FREE! "
So really, is there a Happy Hour in church?
I personally have been "doing church" ever since I can remember, and have been in the pew and on the stage, and to be honest, it seems that the only part of Sunday morning that qualifies for Happy Hour would be the Sunday School hour. That's the part where the food and fellowship happen.
Now, you may differ with me and say, "Dan, I'm always happy for an opportunity to worship God, and hear a good sermon and good music." Really, coulda fooled me. Not just me, even I fool me I think sometimes. Am I happy to be there with my fellow Christians listening to a sermon that sounds so familiar that I dismiss it because my mind is going other places? Or is it just that I am happy to be able to "practice" my faith and demonstrate that in America we can freely gather to worship.
I don't want to sound too harsh, but from the way church parking lots around every town look in the summer, it seems that Sunday morning Happy Hour is more in tune with the lake or baseball or kids having to be somewhere to further their future scholarship status. It seems all of these are happier places to be than at church worshiping the God who we turn to in crisis.
We say, "Please God, if you'll just take away this pain(bad situation, debt, consequence, etc,) I'll be happy to do whatever it is you want me to do. Please people.
Seriously, I have been looking in the mirror of me and can speak only from this spot on the planet that I occupy, and I have to admit to God and myself that being in church on Sunday morning isn't always a warm fuzzy. The reason for this I think is not that God is making me miserable by requiring me to be in church (He does you know, "...don't forsake the gathering together.), but again, as usual, my misery is due to my focus being a little off center, the center being Christ who lives in me. My off center is the focus being on, you guessed it, me being happy, the way I want to be happy. Because I'm focused on me, well, I want my way not Christ's way. So, back to Happy Hour. If there is any time I should be really happy, it is when I am in the presence of God, in the company of the saints in my local congregation. Why wouldn't it be? And that is the question, dear friends that I am going to leave you also to ponder.
My friend Tom(who does see worship in church as Happy Hour) loved to quote Psalm 122, vs 1 "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord."
Peace, my friends.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Falling leaves
I'm here in my office, looking out the window at a glorious August afternoon. Slight breeze and full blue sky with August sun. And as I look I see it, just a glimpse, but it's there.....FALL!
Yes, school is back in session, a sign of fall, the stores have summer clearance sales, a sign of fall, and the temperatures have cooled to the 50's at night and the 70's during the day, signs of fall. But it's AUGUST! What the heck is going on here?!
What drew my attention were the leaves gently falling from the two walnut trees that stand guard at the corner of my front yard. their only purpose seems to be shading a little grass, and dropping immature walnuts for me to run over with the lawn mower. However, they usually are the first to drop their leaves, then the walnuts, signaling that fall is here, but it's too early.
What does the rest of the summer hold? It looks like it holds an early fall sale.
But I'm not complaining, fall is my favorite season of the year, and it can come as early as it wishes and stay as long as it wants. I'm ready. Let the leaves fall, the pumpkins ripen and the cool, almost frosty mornings start. I'll mow over the dropped walnuts while I'm waiting and counting the leaves as they fall.
Peace my friends.
Yes, school is back in session, a sign of fall, the stores have summer clearance sales, a sign of fall, and the temperatures have cooled to the 50's at night and the 70's during the day, signs of fall. But it's AUGUST! What the heck is going on here?!
What drew my attention were the leaves gently falling from the two walnut trees that stand guard at the corner of my front yard. their only purpose seems to be shading a little grass, and dropping immature walnuts for me to run over with the lawn mower. However, they usually are the first to drop their leaves, then the walnuts, signaling that fall is here, but it's too early.
What does the rest of the summer hold? It looks like it holds an early fall sale.
But I'm not complaining, fall is my favorite season of the year, and it can come as early as it wishes and stay as long as it wants. I'm ready. Let the leaves fall, the pumpkins ripen and the cool, almost frosty mornings start. I'll mow over the dropped walnuts while I'm waiting and counting the leaves as they fall.
Peace my friends.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
WWJD part 2
Because my last post was title "WWJD part 1, this must be part 2.
The initials mean What Would Jesus Do. And it seems everyday I find myself wondering just that. The problem is I only think it and usually do not do anything about it. How about you?
I pass a homeless person on the overpass with a sign and I give him no money.
I am not paying attention to my driving and instead of letting someone out in front of me in traffic I just pull on up and wait impatiently for the light to turn and try not to make eye contact with the person in the car right next to my front door.
I don't speak to or acknowledge the clerk as I buy a pop at Kum & Go.
I learn that some friend lost his job, and my first thought is about my own security.
I go to church and am either lost in my own thoughts, or wonder if other people are really getting this message, because it's a kind of deep.
Next morning during my "quiet time" I review all these acts and realize that I did not apply WWJD to much of my life, except thinking about it.
So instead of WWJD, I spend most of my time DWDD, Doing What Dan Does. This is not where I want to do, but like Paul the Apostle, I do what I don't want to do, instead of what I know I should do.
How about you?
Peace to you my friends.
The initials mean What Would Jesus Do. And it seems everyday I find myself wondering just that. The problem is I only think it and usually do not do anything about it. How about you?
I pass a homeless person on the overpass with a sign and I give him no money.
I am not paying attention to my driving and instead of letting someone out in front of me in traffic I just pull on up and wait impatiently for the light to turn and try not to make eye contact with the person in the car right next to my front door.
I don't speak to or acknowledge the clerk as I buy a pop at Kum & Go.
I learn that some friend lost his job, and my first thought is about my own security.
I go to church and am either lost in my own thoughts, or wonder if other people are really getting this message, because it's a kind of deep.
Next morning during my "quiet time" I review all these acts and realize that I did not apply WWJD to much of my life, except thinking about it.
So instead of WWJD, I spend most of my time DWDD, Doing What Dan Does. This is not where I want to do, but like Paul the Apostle, I do what I don't want to do, instead of what I know I should do.
How about you?
Peace to you my friends.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
WWJD part 1
I met John last year when I signed up to run a 25k trail run, my first one. John is an active member of the local multi-sports club. This is a bunch of people who not only run, swim and bike but do so just about anywhere, just about anytime and in just about any combination of the three.
Anyway, I signed up and got an email about a training group that was forming, and a meeting that would clue newbies like me in on what to expect and how to arrive on the day of the run ready and excited. Did I mention the email had a crazy tone to it, and the tone of the responses began to lead me to suspect that this whole group might be just a little bit over the edge.
The date of the meeting conflicted with some other thing I had so I replied to John that I couldn't make it. He emailed the info and told me the date, time and location of the first organized training run.
I showed up there and found it was easy to find John. It wasn't because he was loud, boisterous or overly pushy, but it was that everyone was talking to him and he was listening and reassuring all that it would be a good run. He spotted me and because he knew most everyone else figured out who I was. Introduced himself, and then told us that it was time to go. Everyone should run at their own pace, he verbally laid out the course and we were off. Oh, and John said that if you were fast that was fine, but for the slower folks not to worry about getting lost, he would be bringing up the rear. That is a little over the edge isn't it?
The leader bringing up the rear? You see John is not about being the leader, John is about leading people in this training. He takes responsibility for other ADULTS, and as the months progressed I realized he truly cares about us. And none of this has anything to do with making him look good.
I only heard a John grumble one day when the fast guys (and I don't know how I got here) decided to follow another path and we ended up stopping and asking each other if this was the right way. Nobody knew. Finally we saw, through the brush, on a trail lower on the hill, another runner and bushwhacked our way down to him. He was one of the slower runners and soon here came John making sure everyone was making it. He knew we had been off the trail. Later as I ran behind him he said with a grin, " All these good trails and some people just have to go on their own." That wasn't a put down, at least not in this group. It was just a statement of fact. I noted later that a couple of those fast guys did not train with us anymore. I think they really wanted to be the leaders.
A couple of Saturdays ago the training group for this years race began. John told us the trail signs to follow, and took off in the lead, but soon stepped aside with his dog to tie his shoe or something. As we passed by he told us to pay attention to the person in front to see where they went, but to also pay attention to the person behind to make sure they saw where we went. At the end of a 7 mile run John finally showed up and tried to account for everyone, there were a couple not in yet, so we all headed back on the trail for just another 10 minutes. Soon we saw the other guys and made a turn around to complete our 8 mile run. It was good.
I've titled this WWJD part 1. If you were around a few years ago you know what that meant. But after considering this trail running group and the leader, WWJD not only means What Would Jesus Do, but has caused me to know that what Jesus does and what John does are the same. Out there on the trail I decide to run with someone who is struggling a little instead of passing them and pushing on. That's what John would do. It's what Jesus would do. Lead from the rear and always make sure I follow the one who knows where to go and look back to make sure the one behind me knows where I am going.
So today, tomorrow, WWJD?
Peace my friends.
The leader bringing up the rear? You see John is not about being the leader, John is about leading people in this training. He takes responsibility for other ADULTS, and as the months progressed I realized he truly cares about us. And none of this has anything to do with making him look good.
I only heard a John grumble one day when the fast guys (and I don't know how I got here) decided to follow another path and we ended up stopping and asking each other if this was the right way. Nobody knew. Finally we saw, through the brush, on a trail lower on the hill, another runner and bushwhacked our way down to him. He was one of the slower runners and soon here came John making sure everyone was making it. He knew we had been off the trail. Later as I ran behind him he said with a grin, " All these good trails and some people just have to go on their own." That wasn't a put down, at least not in this group. It was just a statement of fact. I noted later that a couple of those fast guys did not train with us anymore. I think they really wanted to be the leaders.
A couple of Saturdays ago the training group for this years race began. John told us the trail signs to follow, and took off in the lead, but soon stepped aside with his dog to tie his shoe or something. As we passed by he told us to pay attention to the person in front to see where they went, but to also pay attention to the person behind to make sure they saw where we went. At the end of a 7 mile run John finally showed up and tried to account for everyone, there were a couple not in yet, so we all headed back on the trail for just another 10 minutes. Soon we saw the other guys and made a turn around to complete our 8 mile run. It was good.
I've titled this WWJD part 1. If you were around a few years ago you know what that meant. But after considering this trail running group and the leader, WWJD not only means What Would Jesus Do, but has caused me to know that what Jesus does and what John does are the same. Out there on the trail I decide to run with someone who is struggling a little instead of passing them and pushing on. That's what John would do. It's what Jesus would do. Lead from the rear and always make sure I follow the one who knows where to go and look back to make sure the one behind me knows where I am going.
So today, tomorrow, WWJD?
Peace my friends.
Monday, July 27, 2009
to be continued....part 2
Don't you hate it when this happens. You are watching your favorite TV show and it's really good. A commercial comes on, you glance at the time and realize that there's no way the story is going to be resolved in the next 5 minutes, dang it. So you watch and sure enough the final scene fades to black and those haunting words come on the screen "to be continued..."!
Have you considered that saying, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life."? As my life progresses I realize the truth in this. But it's also true, that today could be the last day of the rest of your life. As life changes and we age, it is true that today is the last day of my life as I know it. Tomorrow (should it come) is new life unto itself. Every day is life continued.
But even in those ..to be continued...episodes, if you do catch the next show, they recap i.e. "Previously on NCIS." and then show clips from the show that ended without an end. So even if you missed the last show you still can be well enough informed to watch this one. I think that's how life is everyday. All our experiences are "Previously in Your life." episodes and as one gets to know who they are, it because they review the previous episodes and are able to continue the story line.
In the recent changes in our life, the story line has changed, and fortunately the new life is much like a previous episode from 30 years ago. Even with all the changes we have experienced in moving around and being in large towns and large churches, where we are now has it's familiar glow to it.
However, it is also a little like being Marty McFly in the Back to the Future films. We know what the future looks like and we would like to get back there, but instead of leaving Doc Brown behind, we want to take him with us. So we look at the church and the people and pray that God will use the Word preached and the Holy Spirit as the flux capcitor that will zap, (with 1.21 jigowatts of God power), the Golden City United Methodist church into the future. Pray for us as we minister here, that the outcome of our ministry will lead to a future, like that at the end of the original Back to the Future film.
Remember what happened at the end? Doc Brown came from the future and took Marty and the last frame of the film....To Be Continued....
Peace my friends.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Why isn't Lance winning?
It's almost over, the 2009 Tour de France. Like my wife, many of you roll your eyes and say "Who cares?" We as Americans are especially bored with it this year, because although our hero, Lance Armstrong, is back in the fray, he's not winning. Nearly every sports cast I have heard has reported this news with a sad sounding and exasperated tone. Why isn't Lance winning. If you are paying attention, from the beginning, Lance signed on with team ASTANA, he was pretty clear that he was joined the team to ride and support team star Alberto Contador, who was the 2007 Tour winner. This is one of the aspects of cycling that most Americans don't get, it truly is a team sport.
As a 7 time winner Armstrong gets it. He wasn't a 7 time Tour winner, because he rode solo. Although his skill, personal physical strength and determination all did play into, as well, in my opinion as his ego, he was part of a team which had others doing things that ultimately made his wins possible.
Each day online you can see a recap of the days events, and each day the media interviews Lance. I have watched and have seen a very good controlled person, who, it seems, has a very good grasp on who he is in this situation. The media, however, would love nothing better than to have an opportunity to pit Lance against his team leader, Alberto.
In stage 17 post race interview the restraint Lance has shown as a team player, was evident, although, it almost didn't happen. On stage 17, one of the mountain days, Alberto made a sprint attack, in the last 5k of the stage, that it seemed was unexpected by Lance and the rest of the team. When asked if he knew what that was about, Armstrong who was farther down the mountain, he said he didn't know, and then stopped and hum-hawed a little and said "I'll have to bite my tongue on that one." This restraint, in holding his opinion about a teammate showed that Armstrong is truly a team player. I thought of this in life, work, church etc. Restraint is not something I am good at, nor are most Americans, not even Christians. But being a team player often requires that we "bite our tongue" and realize that saying nothing really is the best thing. However, this is not the American way, and this also goes with being a winner. We have freedom of speech, which is interpreted by many as freedom to say anything to anybody or about anybody we want. I don't believe that is the right way to look at this. Why didn't Lance say what was obviously on his mind. It's a team mentality. Lance realizes he's not the team leader or the coach, he is a team member, and although a legend, he has known his place.
Am I saying that in life, we should just keep it shut and let those who lead do what they want? No, what I am saying is that what we say should be said in the right place, and at the right time.
We should also always look at the big picture and realize our place.
The America media is dismayed that Lance is not winning, but also, that it seems he is not trying. They seem sure that he could be in the lead if he would just try harder. But Lance realizes this year it is not his job to win. So, it is with all of life, knowing your place, and knowing what you should do and what you should say.
Does it make sense that you know you could lead, but you don't? The lesson for we Christians from the Tour and Armstrong is that you should do all you can do in the position you have, and work with the team. I'm sure that in those post race discussion, Lance doesn't always bite his tongue, but out there on the road he does what is required.
In 2009, it appears Lance Armstrong will not win, but unless there is something bad in the works today, he will end up on the podium, in third place. At which point the American media will sadly shake their heads and wonder if he's done. The facts are that Alberto Contador was born in 1982, and is a former Tour winner, no surprise he could do it again. Lance Armstrong was born in 1971, is a former 7 time Tour winner and should be enjoying retirement. Armstrong next year will lead a new team sponsored by Texas based Radio Shack. Next year, will be the year to watch. Next year Lance's place will be to win.
The real message of Lance's return to the Tour is about passion and willingness to change roles as we go through life. Third place is not losing. Third place is racing and being a great team member, especially when the winner is your team leader.
Peace my friends.
As a 7 time winner Armstrong gets it. He wasn't a 7 time Tour winner, because he rode solo. Although his skill, personal physical strength and determination all did play into, as well, in my opinion as his ego, he was part of a team which had others doing things that ultimately made his wins possible.
Each day online you can see a recap of the days events, and each day the media interviews Lance. I have watched and have seen a very good controlled person, who, it seems, has a very good grasp on who he is in this situation. The media, however, would love nothing better than to have an opportunity to pit Lance against his team leader, Alberto.
In stage 17 post race interview the restraint Lance has shown as a team player, was evident, although, it almost didn't happen. On stage 17, one of the mountain days, Alberto made a sprint attack, in the last 5k of the stage, that it seemed was unexpected by Lance and the rest of the team. When asked if he knew what that was about, Armstrong who was farther down the mountain, he said he didn't know, and then stopped and hum-hawed a little and said "I'll have to bite my tongue on that one." This restraint, in holding his opinion about a teammate showed that Armstrong is truly a team player. I thought of this in life, work, church etc. Restraint is not something I am good at, nor are most Americans, not even Christians. But being a team player often requires that we "bite our tongue" and realize that saying nothing really is the best thing. However, this is not the American way, and this also goes with being a winner. We have freedom of speech, which is interpreted by many as freedom to say anything to anybody or about anybody we want. I don't believe that is the right way to look at this. Why didn't Lance say what was obviously on his mind. It's a team mentality. Lance realizes he's not the team leader or the coach, he is a team member, and although a legend, he has known his place.
Am I saying that in life, we should just keep it shut and let those who lead do what they want? No, what I am saying is that what we say should be said in the right place, and at the right time.
We should also always look at the big picture and realize our place.
The America media is dismayed that Lance is not winning, but also, that it seems he is not trying. They seem sure that he could be in the lead if he would just try harder. But Lance realizes this year it is not his job to win. So, it is with all of life, knowing your place, and knowing what you should do and what you should say.
Does it make sense that you know you could lead, but you don't? The lesson for we Christians from the Tour and Armstrong is that you should do all you can do in the position you have, and work with the team. I'm sure that in those post race discussion, Lance doesn't always bite his tongue, but out there on the road he does what is required.
In 2009, it appears Lance Armstrong will not win, but unless there is something bad in the works today, he will end up on the podium, in third place. At which point the American media will sadly shake their heads and wonder if he's done. The facts are that Alberto Contador was born in 1982, and is a former Tour winner, no surprise he could do it again. Lance Armstrong was born in 1971, is a former 7 time Tour winner and should be enjoying retirement. Armstrong next year will lead a new team sponsored by Texas based Radio Shack. Next year, will be the year to watch. Next year Lance's place will be to win.
The real message of Lance's return to the Tour is about passion and willingness to change roles as we go through life. Third place is not losing. Third place is racing and being a great team member, especially when the winner is your team leader.
Peace my friends.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Keep it Fresh!
The other day I was in need of some new t-shirts. Regular white, wear under your regular shirt, t-shirts. So while we were at our favorite department store (not Wal-Mart) I picked up a package of 3 white, cotton, v-neck t-shirts. Hanes ComfortSoft Tops.
I did not realize until I got home and opened the package, what a miracle of technology underwear packaging had become. Much to my surprise I discovered that these t-shirts were in a resealable bag. You know the kind that cheese or frozen peas come in. I was mystified and actually laughed out loud (lol) and then asked out loud, to no one there, "Why?".
I went to Hanes.com and under miscellaneous I posted the following:
I did not realize until I got home and opened the package, what a miracle of technology underwear packaging had become. Much to my surprise I discovered that these t-shirts were in a resealable bag. You know the kind that cheese or frozen peas come in. I was mystified and actually laughed out loud (lol) and then asked out loud, to no one there, "Why?".
I went to Hanes.com and under miscellaneous I posted the following:
Message : Maybe I'm missing something here, but why are you selling
t-shirts in a resealable bag? I don't believe it keeps them fresher, and
I'm not planning to store them in a bag (is that a trend I missed). Is
this the reason that a 3 pack of cotton t-shirts retails for $16? Just
curious.
Thank you,
Dan Bohannon
danrun55@gmail.com
I don't know if I really expected a reply, but 2 weeks later I got a response, not with an answer, but with a question about what style of shirts I was referring to.
I responded with all the information from the package, and returned the email.
About 2 more weeks passed and I got the following email from customer service.
Dear Mr. Bohannon,
Thank you for contacting Hanes Underwear. We are always delighted when Consumers take time out of their schedule to share their comments and welcome the opportunity to address inquiries regarding our products.
Hanes uses a resealable bag since many consumers like to feel the material and will tear open a package to do so. So we try to make easier by having a resealable bag.
Mr. Bohannon, if we can be of future assistance, you may reach us at 1-800-994-4348, Monday through Friday from 9:00am to 4:30pm (EST), or on the Internet at www.hanes.com.
Sincerely,
Carolyn Williams
Consumer Care Specialist
Well, thank you Carolyn, my curiosity is completely cured and now I know that Wal-Mart or Target or Kohls will not have any problem with me tearing open underwear packages and feeling the cottony softness before I purchase and wear.
I'm just wondering, could you guys talk to the cereal people and maybe they could spend the bucks to put a zip on my Cheerios. Or maybe this is the next great thing for toilet paper, so I can sample the scratchiness of new improved Angel Soft on my hand before I take it home and find that it just isn't nearly as soft as it felt through the plastic wrapper.
So there you go, customer service is still alive and well. Always at your service and Hanes has even be so kind to keep me updated on their "Biggest underwear sales" with a weekly email.
Life just doesn't get any better than this.
Peace my friends.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Let's get small.....
For the past 15 years we have lived in one of the fastest growing counties, not only in Missouri, but in the country, and for nine of those years, we lived in one of the fastest growing towns in that county. During those years the church we attended more than doubled in size.
Today, Regina started her new position as the pastor of the Golden City United Methodist Church, in Golden City Mo, which is in Barton County, just a few miles from Kansas. There were 37 in attendance, but it was church, because it still is true, "where two or three are gathered....". We have made a circle in life, 21 years ago when we began this journey, the church we left was just a little bit bigger than that. At that time, we had ideas of getting in a bigger church where "ministry" was many more things than it was in our little hometown, family church.
Now, here we are, worshiping with 35 other believers on July 4th weekend. But, it was church and there is ministry to be done.
In this new situation, the average age ( I'm guessing avg. is upper 60's to low 70's, with many of the active leaders in their 80's) of the congregation gives a sense of urgency to growth. In 10 or fewer years the number could be 17 or 7 . There are not a lot of young people moving to Barton county or Golden City, but there are people who don't know about God. Pray for Regina in leading this group of believers to find what God has in store for them.
Regina nor I believes that God has sent us here just to mark time until something better comes along. And just now writing that, I wonder if that's not what I have been doing for quite some time, looking for something better. What we have now may just be that.
"Let's Get Small." was an album and a routine that Steve Martin did way back. It was about being on drugs, drugs that would make you actually smaller, and because of that, the tests for sobriety would be different, and you would have to be in a different jail cell, because if you were small you could walk right out between the bars.
Getting small in the Church also gives a different perspective, one I hope we can use to promote the kingdom in totally different small ways.
Peace
Today, Regina started her new position as the pastor of the Golden City United Methodist Church, in Golden City Mo, which is in Barton County, just a few miles from Kansas. There were 37 in attendance, but it was church, because it still is true, "where two or three are gathered....". We have made a circle in life, 21 years ago when we began this journey, the church we left was just a little bit bigger than that. At that time, we had ideas of getting in a bigger church where "ministry" was many more things than it was in our little hometown, family church.
Now, here we are, worshiping with 35 other believers on July 4th weekend. But, it was church and there is ministry to be done.
In this new situation, the average age ( I'm guessing avg. is upper 60's to low 70's, with many of the active leaders in their 80's) of the congregation gives a sense of urgency to growth. In 10 or fewer years the number could be 17 or 7 . There are not a lot of young people moving to Barton county or Golden City, but there are people who don't know about God. Pray for Regina in leading this group of believers to find what God has in store for them.
Regina nor I believes that God has sent us here just to mark time until something better comes along. And just now writing that, I wonder if that's not what I have been doing for quite some time, looking for something better. What we have now may just be that.
"Let's Get Small." was an album and a routine that Steve Martin did way back. It was about being on drugs, drugs that would make you actually smaller, and because of that, the tests for sobriety would be different, and you would have to be in a different jail cell, because if you were small you could walk right out between the bars.
Getting small in the Church also gives a different perspective, one I hope we can use to promote the kingdom in totally different small ways.
Peace
Friday, July 3, 2009
Fourth Freedom
It's the 3rd of July! Another year passed, another summer here. More hot, humid days and nights to come. Vacations, summer school is over, Vacation Bible School is here, baseball season in full swing. Time to head to the creek or the pool. Pull weeds, pick corn, tomatoes and eat all the watermelon you can hold. Time to celebrate...wait, one more day for the official Independence Day celebration, even though popping and cracking have been going on all around for a week.
I always imagine it is kids shooting them off, but maybe not. If it is kids, what are they celebrating? Freedom of course. Freedom to do something deemed illegal the rest of the year. Freedom to play with matches and to blow things up without the threat of seriously harming someone. But mainly freedom of experience. Freedom to do something just for the fun of it, without any other justification. That is true freedom.
Growing up we didn't get to spend much money on fireworks, so we mostly bought firecrackers. Most bang for your buck. A pack of 100 meant lots of pops and the ability to completely destroy large ant hills and still have ammo left. Yes, of course it meant blowing up plastic army men and seeing how high a tin can would go relative to how many firecrackers were under it. This was freedom to commit wanton destruction, as long as we did not turn the power against each other. Freedom meant restraint. Restraint from throwing a lit firecracker at your brother or any person. Restraint in the area of conservation, we only had so many pops and so we had to make them last, very rarely did we set off a whole string of firecrackers at once, how wasteful was that.
Now that I have a little more money of my own, more than when I was 12, I find that freedom and restraint often become excess. And with grown kids and young grandkids, excess has a whole new upper limit. Anyway, I now have greater freedom to celebrate the 4th of July. In combination we have had fireworks displays at Windrock that lasted an hour and would have rivaled any put on by the local Lions Club back in the 1960's.
So we celebrate the Independence of our country, that is true. But maybe you are a little like me , and find that down deep, I'm really celebrating the freedom of self, the ability to do something different without the judgment of others. Celebrating and doing something just for the fun of it with restraint of course.
Peace.
I always imagine it is kids shooting them off, but maybe not. If it is kids, what are they celebrating? Freedom of course. Freedom to do something deemed illegal the rest of the year. Freedom to play with matches and to blow things up without the threat of seriously harming someone. But mainly freedom of experience. Freedom to do something just for the fun of it, without any other justification. That is true freedom.
Growing up we didn't get to spend much money on fireworks, so we mostly bought firecrackers. Most bang for your buck. A pack of 100 meant lots of pops and the ability to completely destroy large ant hills and still have ammo left. Yes, of course it meant blowing up plastic army men and seeing how high a tin can would go relative to how many firecrackers were under it. This was freedom to commit wanton destruction, as long as we did not turn the power against each other. Freedom meant restraint. Restraint from throwing a lit firecracker at your brother or any person. Restraint in the area of conservation, we only had so many pops and so we had to make them last, very rarely did we set off a whole string of firecrackers at once, how wasteful was that.
Now that I have a little more money of my own, more than when I was 12, I find that freedom and restraint often become excess. And with grown kids and young grandkids, excess has a whole new upper limit. Anyway, I now have greater freedom to celebrate the 4th of July. In combination we have had fireworks displays at Windrock that lasted an hour and would have rivaled any put on by the local Lions Club back in the 1960's.
So we celebrate the Independence of our country, that is true. But maybe you are a little like me , and find that down deep, I'm really celebrating the freedom of self, the ability to do something different without the judgment of others. Celebrating and doing something just for the fun of it with restraint of course.
Peace.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Buddy, could you spare some change?
It's the last week of my wife working as the associate pastor at Ozark United Methodist Church. On July 1 she will become the pastor of the Golden City United Methodist Church in Golden City MO.
Obviously her life is changing significantly, but in this marriage thing, so will mine.
What is changing? Well, other than a new location to worship, and not seeing all our friends at OUMC and meeting new people there, not really much.
We won't be leaving Sparta, so there will be the same bills to pay, the same grass to mow and the same bed to sleep in. Boring, perhaps, but comforting.
Regina will be commuting to Golden City and will have days to work there, so a regular routine around here may take a while to establish, it may never happen.
There is the change the disrupts not only my life, but everyones, losing my routine.
Over the years, knowingly or unknowingly, we all establish a routine. It may not always be exact, but it probably involves family time, a job, a hobby and some really wasted time. We don't like it to change, and when it does it can be upsetting or exciting.
Right now with the last week at OUMC in the headlights, I can only say that my routine is being changed and it's kind of exciting, and kind of sad. Needless to say, for some of you reading this blog, you agree. Life is changing, times are changing, but if we so desire, friendships don't have to change.
Peace.
Obviously her life is changing significantly, but in this marriage thing, so will mine.
What is changing? Well, other than a new location to worship, and not seeing all our friends at OUMC and meeting new people there, not really much.
We won't be leaving Sparta, so there will be the same bills to pay, the same grass to mow and the same bed to sleep in. Boring, perhaps, but comforting.
Regina will be commuting to Golden City and will have days to work there, so a regular routine around here may take a while to establish, it may never happen.
There is the change the disrupts not only my life, but everyones, losing my routine.
Over the years, knowingly or unknowingly, we all establish a routine. It may not always be exact, but it probably involves family time, a job, a hobby and some really wasted time. We don't like it to change, and when it does it can be upsetting or exciting.
Right now with the last week at OUMC in the headlights, I can only say that my routine is being changed and it's kind of exciting, and kind of sad. Needless to say, for some of you reading this blog, you agree. Life is changing, times are changing, but if we so desire, friendships don't have to change.
Peace.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Little things add up.
Little things add up. Logical, reasonable and rational. Pennies add up to dollars, single stones picked up in a bucket add weight until you can't lift it. 34 weeks of Disciple Bible study adding up to a changed relationship with God and others. 5 nights of Vacation Bible School that creates a bond between kids and between kids and adults. Short 3 mile runs that add up to a 1000 miles in a year or the confidence to run farther even up to a 26.2 mile marathon.
Experiences, encounters and excursions add up to a life.
As many of you know my wife Regina is a United Methodist pastor and now a new adventure begins for us as she has been appointed to the Golden City United Methodist Church. This little church on the prairie is so familiar in many ways, but our experience with this type church in the past was not all that positive. However, the little things add up, and so even though the "been there, done that" factor seems at first to make this appear to be too easy or too boring, the experiences and encounters we have had in our excursions in life in the past 20 years changes the perspective.
Little things that have added to our world view now make this place of ministry a place of challenge rather than a place to give up on. In our experience in larger churches we have found the same attitudes, desires, problems and challenges that are embodied in this small congregation. What changes those attitudes, desires problems and challenges, in peoples lives is their cumulative encounters with God, experience.
So now, (speaking for me only Regina will have to post her own thoughts) I embark on this new excursion into the flatlands of western Missouri hoping that the little things in my experiences of seeing God work in peoples lives, was not because they were in a larger church, but because they were willing to let little things add up to change.
I too will have changes in this experience and pray that I will pay attention to let the little things, change me where needed and lead where I God wants me to be.
Peace.
Experiences, encounters and excursions add up to a life.
As many of you know my wife Regina is a United Methodist pastor and now a new adventure begins for us as she has been appointed to the Golden City United Methodist Church. This little church on the prairie is so familiar in many ways, but our experience with this type church in the past was not all that positive. However, the little things add up, and so even though the "been there, done that" factor seems at first to make this appear to be too easy or too boring, the experiences and encounters we have had in our excursions in life in the past 20 years changes the perspective.
Little things that have added to our world view now make this place of ministry a place of challenge rather than a place to give up on. In our experience in larger churches we have found the same attitudes, desires, problems and challenges that are embodied in this small congregation. What changes those attitudes, desires problems and challenges, in peoples lives is their cumulative encounters with God, experience.
So now, (speaking for me only Regina will have to post her own thoughts) I embark on this new excursion into the flatlands of western Missouri hoping that the little things in my experiences of seeing God work in peoples lives, was not because they were in a larger church, but because they were willing to let little things add up to change.
I too will have changes in this experience and pray that I will pay attention to let the little things, change me where needed and lead where I God wants me to be.
Peace.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
To be continued:.....
Don't you hate it when this happens. You are watching your favorite TV show and it's really good. A commercial comes on, you glance at the time and realize that there's no way the story is going to be resolved in the next 5 minutes, dang it. So you watch and sure enough the final scene fades to black and those haunting words come on the screen "to be continued..."!
Have you considered that saying, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life."? As my life progresses I realize the truth in this. But it's also true, that today could be the last day of the rest of your life. As life changes and we age, it is true that today is the last day of my life as I know it. Tomorrow (should it come) is new life unto itself. Every day is life continued.
But even in those ..to be continued...episodes, if you do catch the next show, they recap i.e. "Previously on NCIS." and then show clips from the show that ended without an end. So even if you missed the last show you still can be well enough informed to watch this one. I think that's how life is everyday. All our experiences are "Previously in Your life." episodes and as one gets to know who they are, it because they review the previous episodes and are able to continue the story line.
In the recent changes in our life, the story line has changed, and fortunately the new life is much like a previous episode from 30 years ago. Even with all the changes we have experienced in moving around and being in large towns and large churches, where we are now has it's familiar glow to it.
However, it is also a little like being Marty McFly in the Back to the Future films. We know what the future looks like and we would like to get back there, but instead of leaving Doc Brown behind, we want to take him with us. So we look at the church and the people and pray that God will use the Word preached and the Holy Spirit as the flux capcitor that will zap, (with 1.21 jigowatts of God power), the Golden City United Methodist church into the future. Pray for us as we minister here, that the outcome of our ministry will lead to a future, like that at the end of the original Back to the Future film.
Remember what happened at the end? Doc Brown came from the future and took Marty and the last frame of the film....To Be Continued....
Peace my friends.
But even in those ..to be continued...episodes, if you do catch the next show, they recap i.e. "Previously on NCIS." and then show clips from the show that ended without an end. So even if you missed the last show you still can be well enough informed to watch this one. I think that's how life is everyday. All our experiences are "Previously in Your life." episodes and as one gets to know who they are, it because they review the previous episodes and are able to continue the story line.
In the recent changes in our life, the story line has changed, and fortunately the new life is much like a previous episode from 30 years ago. Even with all the changes we have experienced in moving around and being in large towns and large churches, where we are now has it's familiar glow to it.
However, it is also a little like being Marty McFly in the Back to the Future films. We know what the future looks like and we would like to get back there, but instead of leaving Doc Brown behind, we want to take him with us. So we look at the church and the people and pray that God will use the Word preached and the Holy Spirit as the flux capcitor that will zap, (with 1.21 jigowatts of God power), the Golden City United Methodist church into the future. Pray for us as we minister here, that the outcome of our ministry will lead to a future, like that at the end of the original Back to the Future film.
Remember what happened at the end? Doc Brown came from the future and took Marty and the last frame of the film....To Be Continued....
Peace my friends.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Flowers of God and Grandkids.
Six years ago we moved "back to the country" to this 3 acres of wind, rock and thin dirt that we have dubbed "Windrock", sometimes Windrock Gardens. It was 10 year old house with a mostly grass driveway and landscaping that consisted of one 4 x 8 flower bed with some dying roses, a half dead small tree in the backyard and a oil change gravel pit right out the side door of the garage.
This whole move began with a question of what would one of us do if the other was to die or "something"? Answer: "Sell this too big house in town and move out to the country." Response" "What are we waiting for?" So we listed our house and in a few months God worked all things out and on Valentines Day we moved out of town and into the country.
What we were looking for was a unique place where our grandkids, who we knew would be living in a subdivision, could come and experience something of the farm life we had both grown up with.
We started building gardens and adding flowers and lovely plants. Funny thing, the grandkids,
all three of them, Logan who is now 10, Nathan now 6 and Alyssa 2 1/2 found that the most attractive flowers, the ones they wanted to pick for their mom, (everytime) were not any of those cultivated. Nope, these kids love the same flowers that I believe God must love: DANDELIONS!
When Jesus says to "consider the lilies of the field" I think he was talking about dandelions, whose shining yellow faces are so attractive to kids. I used to think that they were part of the curse God put on the ground, because of Adam and Eve sinning, but now, as I have toiled with the land and fought the good fight against dandelions, I realize that God put them everywhere not to vex me, but to remind me that God is everywhere. Just like getting rid of dandelions trying to separate from God is really hard and can only be done through extreme stubbornness.
My grandkids and all little kids who come to Windrock love the dandelions we grow. They love to pick them when the dandelions have on their original yellow smiley face, or when they are ready to have their seeds blown away, just like God does.
There are still spots at Windrock where dandelions are not welcome, like in my now white gravel driveway, or trying to shoulder in amongst the elite daylilies and dahlias, but for the most part I've learned to tolerate them. I know that when I mow over them, they will just take it in stride and like God show up somewhere else in my yard of life.
I know my grandkids will always remember picking dandelions for their mom. Most of theses cherished flowers end up wilted on the counter in our kitchen. Which is another part of dandelions that reminds me of God. Those little kids are picking flowers for their mom, not because the flowers are beautiful, but because they love their mom. But that's for a whole other blog.
Just remember to consider the dandelions.....
Peace
Dan
This whole move began with a question of what would one of us do if the other was to die or "something"? Answer: "Sell this too big house in town and move out to the country." Response" "What are we waiting for?" So we listed our house and in a few months God worked all things out and on Valentines Day we moved out of town and into the country.
What we were looking for was a unique place where our grandkids, who we knew would be living in a subdivision, could come and experience something of the farm life we had both grown up with.
We started building gardens and adding flowers and lovely plants. Funny thing, the grandkids,
all three of them, Logan who is now 10, Nathan now 6 and Alyssa 2 1/2 found that the most attractive flowers, the ones they wanted to pick for their mom, (everytime) were not any of those cultivated. Nope, these kids love the same flowers that I believe God must love: DANDELIONS!
When Jesus says to "consider the lilies of the field" I think he was talking about dandelions, whose shining yellow faces are so attractive to kids. I used to think that they were part of the curse God put on the ground, because of Adam and Eve sinning, but now, as I have toiled with the land and fought the good fight against dandelions, I realize that God put them everywhere not to vex me, but to remind me that God is everywhere. Just like getting rid of dandelions trying to separate from God is really hard and can only be done through extreme stubbornness.
My grandkids and all little kids who come to Windrock love the dandelions we grow. They love to pick them when the dandelions have on their original yellow smiley face, or when they are ready to have their seeds blown away, just like God does.
There are still spots at Windrock where dandelions are not welcome, like in my now white gravel driveway, or trying to shoulder in amongst the elite daylilies and dahlias, but for the most part I've learned to tolerate them. I know that when I mow over them, they will just take it in stride and like God show up somewhere else in my yard of life.
I know my grandkids will always remember picking dandelions for their mom. Most of theses cherished flowers end up wilted on the counter in our kitchen. Which is another part of dandelions that reminds me of God. Those little kids are picking flowers for their mom, not because the flowers are beautiful, but because they love their mom. But that's for a whole other blog.
Just remember to consider the dandelions.....
Peace
Dan
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Springing to Mind
There are lots of things that spring brings to my mind. Random things mind you. Things that are of significance but maybe not of extreme importance. From the abyss, that is my brain, mind or soul here's a list, random and perhaps ridiculous. Respond by adding to it if you wish.
Springing to mind here in Spring"
Leaves, learning to ride a bike with only "coaster brakes", planting, transplanting, running a marathon, Easter Sunrise service and Easter dinner. Worms, plowed fields, packets of corn, bean, gourd, flower seeds, rain, floods, tornados, tomatoes, ticks, chiggers, poison ivy, English ivy, invasive plants, Vacation Bible School, Spring Break, wearing shorts on the first warm day, getting a short haircut. Mowing grass, planting grass, listening to spring bird songs, stomping down molehills in the yard, making mountains out of molehill issues. New movie releases, Memorial Day, July 4th, summer vacation, baling hay, longer days, clear starry nights, first lightning bugs, popcicles, Kool Aid, bluebird houses, bluebird days, tulips, iris, dandelions, nettle, magnolias, naps in the sunshine. Newborn kittens, calves, colts, puppies and baby birds fallen from their nests. Places that are now shady and cool mornings with warm afternoons. Trout fishing, bass fishing, canoeing, camping in the back yard. Goodbye to winter, frost and wind chill, hello to heat humidity and sweat.
Time to remember the goodness of the Lord as the earth shows his springtime glory and time to show your love to those around you.
Acts of random kindness and peace...they are not random!
Springing to mind here in Spring"
Leaves, learning to ride a bike with only "coaster brakes", planting, transplanting, running a marathon, Easter Sunrise service and Easter dinner. Worms, plowed fields, packets of corn, bean, gourd, flower seeds, rain, floods, tornados, tomatoes, ticks, chiggers, poison ivy, English ivy, invasive plants, Vacation Bible School, Spring Break, wearing shorts on the first warm day, getting a short haircut. Mowing grass, planting grass, listening to spring bird songs, stomping down molehills in the yard, making mountains out of molehill issues. New movie releases, Memorial Day, July 4th, summer vacation, baling hay, longer days, clear starry nights, first lightning bugs, popcicles, Kool Aid, bluebird houses, bluebird days, tulips, iris, dandelions, nettle, magnolias, naps in the sunshine. Newborn kittens, calves, colts, puppies and baby birds fallen from their nests. Places that are now shady and cool mornings with warm afternoons. Trout fishing, bass fishing, canoeing, camping in the back yard. Goodbye to winter, frost and wind chill, hello to heat humidity and sweat.
Time to remember the goodness of the Lord as the earth shows his springtime glory and time to show your love to those around you.
Acts of random kindness and peace...they are not random!
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Warning! Warning Will Robinson!
"Don't run with scissors, don't look directly into the sun..EVER, always stay one step ahead of everyone, "This is a test of the emergency broadcast system, this is just a test!" "A tornado (thunderstorm, flash flood , frost, freeze, wind chill, fire hazard, blizzard, lightning) WARNING has been announced by .....fill in the blank. Remember the robot on the TV show Lost is Space who was so highly functional that it could give a warning to the Robinson family whenever the camera started to shake...? The robot of the future is now present in our everyday life. The robot and every one's favorite TV dog Lassie, were leading us into the warning world we now live in. Can you forget how Lassie would bark when the background music went into a minor key, thus prompting Timmy to say "What is it girl?" knowing that in dog language, he was being warned of something bad about to happen, like an abandoned well about to be discovered by the bottom of his Keds sneakers.
Today we live in a warning filled world, some of which are basic to our survival and others are to be ignored, and some are just silly. What made me think of the world of warnings and how it may be out of control was buying a new pair of running shoes the other day. Believe it or not my new Mizunos had a tag attached to the laces that was titled: "Cautions" which in 7, count'em SEVEN languages the following paragraph warned about the use of these running shoes.
" This product has been designed and manufactured for the sport of running. Use of this product for other activities limits the warranty for this product."
So for the record, I didn't know there was a warranty, but now I have been warned. I guess, walking to the starting line of a race in my sock feet will help keep my warranty intact, and if I decide to walk at some point in a marathon I should stop and take them off just to keep my warranty in place. And for casual hiking, bike riding, piggy backs for the grandkids or bullfighting, I will need to wear my old running shoes which I am sure have no warranty left. The problem is I may choose to ignore this warning and wear these shoes to walk to the mail box or at some point mow the grass (by then the warranty will surely be gone), and by ignoring the "caution" may find myself in some sort of jeopardy.
When cautions and warnings come on things that do not have power motors attached to sharp spinning blades, wheels that can crush your foot, or maybe one of the million things your mother told you would 'put out somebody's eye, then perhaps the warning business is just a little out of hand.
But you know in everday life there are warning we ignore, like this shoe warning and the stop hand/running man pedestrian light at a crosswalk, because we know what to do and can use our own judgement, we can see that walking in a running shoe is not bad, and we can also see there are no cars that are close enough to hit us if we jaywalk. There are other warnings in our everyday life that we and many others choose ignore coming from the source we should not ignore, the Bible. Such as when Jesus warns that "For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" (Mark 8: 35-36) or "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?" (Luke 12: 25-26) These are not just good advice, they are warnings about how to NOT live everyday.
Everything that we are warned about can become a worry, and so much time is wasted on things in life we cannot control. My running shoes will protect my feet when I run, and when I limp across the finish line, or hoist a 6 year old on my back. The freeze warning will allow me to TRY to protect plants in my garden, but in the end, nature will win, and the plants will figure out how to start again... next year. Caution, do not spend too much time worrying about these things.
So for now, when the freeze warning crawls across the bottom of the screen, or the cover of my steaming fast food coffee cup, reads "WARNING, CONTENTS ARE VERY HOT!" I'll try to keep my cool and be happy, don't worry.
But be warned: there will probably be more blogs to come!.
Peace.
Today we live in a warning filled world, some of which are basic to our survival and others are to be ignored, and some are just silly. What made me think of the world of warnings and how it may be out of control was buying a new pair of running shoes the other day. Believe it or not my new Mizunos had a tag attached to the laces that was titled: "Cautions" which in 7, count'em SEVEN languages the following paragraph warned about the use of these running shoes.
" This product has been designed and manufactured for the sport of running. Use of this product for other activities limits the warranty for this product."
So for the record, I didn't know there was a warranty, but now I have been warned. I guess, walking to the starting line of a race in my sock feet will help keep my warranty intact, and if I decide to walk at some point in a marathon I should stop and take them off just to keep my warranty in place. And for casual hiking, bike riding, piggy backs for the grandkids or bullfighting, I will need to wear my old running shoes which I am sure have no warranty left. The problem is I may choose to ignore this warning and wear these shoes to walk to the mail box or at some point mow the grass (by then the warranty will surely be gone), and by ignoring the "caution" may find myself in some sort of jeopardy.
When cautions and warnings come on things that do not have power motors attached to sharp spinning blades, wheels that can crush your foot, or maybe one of the million things your mother told you would 'put out somebody's eye, then perhaps the warning business is just a little out of hand.
But you know in everday life there are warning we ignore, like this shoe warning and the stop hand/running man pedestrian light at a crosswalk, because we know what to do and can use our own judgement, we can see that walking in a running shoe is not bad, and we can also see there are no cars that are close enough to hit us if we jaywalk. There are other warnings in our everyday life that we and many others choose ignore coming from the source we should not ignore, the Bible. Such as when Jesus warns that "For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" (Mark 8: 35-36) or "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?" (Luke 12: 25-26) These are not just good advice, they are warnings about how to NOT live everyday.
Everything that we are warned about can become a worry, and so much time is wasted on things in life we cannot control. My running shoes will protect my feet when I run, and when I limp across the finish line, or hoist a 6 year old on my back. The freeze warning will allow me to TRY to protect plants in my garden, but in the end, nature will win, and the plants will figure out how to start again... next year. Caution, do not spend too much time worrying about these things.
So for now, when the freeze warning crawls across the bottom of the screen, or the cover of my steaming fast food coffee cup, reads "WARNING, CONTENTS ARE VERY HOT!" I'll try to keep my cool and be happy, don't worry.
But be warned: there will probably be more blogs to come!.
Peace.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
The Earth(worms) Beneath My Feet.
Wow! Spring is here and as March marches out like cold hearted Empire Stormtroopers, I find myself constantly looking down. Down at the grass that already needs a mowing, down at flowers that I feel are just a little too anxious to get started and down at my favorite underground animal ( yes I said animal!) the tiller of the soil, the earthworm.
All this rain has brought these dirt munching machines to the surface, and yesterday I found myself throwing the ones still wiggling out of my garage and back into the flower beds. I always wondered why on a wet morning, the worms would be out. I called them "The Worms Of Dawn!" and thought maybe it was just all the party worms and teenage worms who didn't get back down to earth before it got dark. What I heard, and makes sense, is that when it rains and the ground gets saturated, worms will drown! Duh! They are air breathing animals after all, I mean, they don't survive when we hook them and use them for fish bait.
Anyway, I love earthworms, so I'll try to save a few if I can, because they are essential to good gardens. They know their job and talk about focused, or perhaps obsessed, that would be the earthworm. Each time I dig in my yard or garden, I find earthworms, or should we just call them worms. Occasionally of course there's a grub, which not a worm, but the larvae of all those June bugs that will buzzing in July, and the interesting thing, is I don't believe I have ever found an earthworm sleeping! It seems that whether in good soil or in a clod of hard clay, they are doing what worms do, and what is exactly is that? Well, let me tell you, it has to do with changing nutrients in the soil into worm casings, or poop. I am impressed by the diligence of these guys and their constant pursuit of better soil, at least that is the way it seems to me. In reality, and this is my reality, I have no idea if it is scientific, I think they are all just trying to find that really good underground cafe' where they can move around easily and, well, get good dirt.
Have you ever tasted dirt? I am thankful for all the great food that comes from the earth beneath my feet, I am truly glad that the Creator, decided that it was better for those created last to have a taste for the "fruit of the vine" rather that the medium the root of the vine sucks life from. Anyway back to worms, I found that if I have good dirt, I will have big healthy worms, who are tearing through the dirt, compost or manure pile like crazy. These are happy worms (until you dig them up then they get a little cranky). I think all those skinny little worms in the clod of clay in the north garden are just itching (is that possible) to get to where these big fat worms are so they too can drive through a big pile of rotting leaves and get fat. That I believe is their only purpose in life, oh, and to also make more worms, 'cause we definitely need more worms. Worms who are willing to tunnel through clods of hard clay to get to where they can fulfill, or maybe just fill that place in the rotting leaf pile. Where, when they are done, I will praise them and use their casings to make things grow!
What am I talking about? I guess the question is do you know the purpose God has for you? If so are you willing to take a position in a rotting world to try to make it better. God and the world need more people who will become like an earthworm in the world, working out of sight most of the time, but striving with a single purpose in mind. For this you too will receive a reward of a place where you can move around easily and find the best nutrients for your eternal life, and God, the Master Gardener of all will look at you and say "Well done, my good and faithful worm!"
Wiggle on in Peace my fellow worms!
All this rain has brought these dirt munching machines to the surface, and yesterday I found myself throwing the ones still wiggling out of my garage and back into the flower beds. I always wondered why on a wet morning, the worms would be out. I called them "The Worms Of Dawn!" and thought maybe it was just all the party worms and teenage worms who didn't get back down to earth before it got dark. What I heard, and makes sense, is that when it rains and the ground gets saturated, worms will drown! Duh! They are air breathing animals after all, I mean, they don't survive when we hook them and use them for fish bait.
Anyway, I love earthworms, so I'll try to save a few if I can, because they are essential to good gardens. They know their job and talk about focused, or perhaps obsessed, that would be the earthworm. Each time I dig in my yard or garden, I find earthworms, or should we just call them worms. Occasionally of course there's a grub, which not a worm, but the larvae of all those June bugs that will buzzing in July, and the interesting thing, is I don't believe I have ever found an earthworm sleeping! It seems that whether in good soil or in a clod of hard clay, they are doing what worms do, and what is exactly is that? Well, let me tell you, it has to do with changing nutrients in the soil into worm casings, or poop. I am impressed by the diligence of these guys and their constant pursuit of better soil, at least that is the way it seems to me. In reality, and this is my reality, I have no idea if it is scientific, I think they are all just trying to find that really good underground cafe' where they can move around easily and, well, get good dirt.
Have you ever tasted dirt? I am thankful for all the great food that comes from the earth beneath my feet, I am truly glad that the Creator, decided that it was better for those created last to have a taste for the "fruit of the vine" rather that the medium the root of the vine sucks life from. Anyway back to worms, I found that if I have good dirt, I will have big healthy worms, who are tearing through the dirt, compost or manure pile like crazy. These are happy worms (until you dig them up then they get a little cranky). I think all those skinny little worms in the clod of clay in the north garden are just itching (is that possible) to get to where these big fat worms are so they too can drive through a big pile of rotting leaves and get fat. That I believe is their only purpose in life, oh, and to also make more worms, 'cause we definitely need more worms. Worms who are willing to tunnel through clods of hard clay to get to where they can fulfill, or maybe just fill that place in the rotting leaf pile. Where, when they are done, I will praise them and use their casings to make things grow!
What am I talking about? I guess the question is do you know the purpose God has for you? If so are you willing to take a position in a rotting world to try to make it better. God and the world need more people who will become like an earthworm in the world, working out of sight most of the time, but striving with a single purpose in mind. For this you too will receive a reward of a place where you can move around easily and find the best nutrients for your eternal life, and God, the Master Gardener of all will look at you and say "Well done, my good and faithful worm!"
Wiggle on in Peace my fellow worms!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
March (Spring) Madness
In most of the world, a season change is imminent, for us here in the northern hemisphere of the West, tomorrow is the first day of Spring! Yes! There is much celebration, the media continually talks about March Madness, talk of seeding and brackets are everywhere in print and in the air. All this talk just because its the first day of....wait the NCAA tournament!? This is the most important time of the created media, college sports world, however for those of us in the real world, talk of seeding means hitting the garden center, not 3 pointers, and the only brackets we are thinking of are those plant parts holding the blooms of early flowers.
While tonite there are play-in games, I will be thinking about plow-in opportunities for fertilizer and other soil enhancers. I will not be disappointed by turnovers in my March madness because they will reveal hardworking earthworms doing their duty of enriching the earth, not enriching their wallets. In the midst of my celebration I be making free throws with rocks into the 5 gallon bucket or wheelbarrow to get them out of my court. As I continue to work through the regions of my yard, I'll take stock of the players who will be moved into the pro leagues of new gardens and in the evening I'll look at the lists of new players that I may draft to fill spaces where particular plant players weren't able to perform up to my expectations.
In my March madness, I rip up weeds, who are playing where they shouldn't be and surround those favored plants who survived the winter season, with a pre-season cushion of mulch, so they can grow stronger through the spring into the stressful summer training season.
In about a month, my March madness will turn into plant pandemonium, as real spring comes and the temp doesn't fall to freezing on a whim. My seeming madness of being out in the bare looking gardens will be paid back in full. Enter April, May and June, when the iris don their flowing jerseys and daylilies, in full color, trumpet to the bees that it is REAL SPRING. Tulips, phlox, and sundrops will post up to defend against the growing green landscape, scoring points with passers by and ladybugs alike. No black and white whistle blowers here, no fouls, anything that blooms makes points, sometimes even weeds. I am convinced that God's favorite flower is the dandelion, so instead of cursing the yellow dots, I look at them as punctuation to Spring:
Spring is here! Spring is HERE!
Yes, March spring madness is here, so tomorrow I won't be listening to see if some small school beat some large school, I'll be taking the day off and spend it counting dandelions and earthworms. Come go mad with me!
Peace!
While tonite there are play-in games, I will be thinking about plow-in opportunities for fertilizer and other soil enhancers. I will not be disappointed by turnovers in my March madness because they will reveal hardworking earthworms doing their duty of enriching the earth, not enriching their wallets. In the midst of my celebration I be making free throws with rocks into the 5 gallon bucket or wheelbarrow to get them out of my court. As I continue to work through the regions of my yard, I'll take stock of the players who will be moved into the pro leagues of new gardens and in the evening I'll look at the lists of new players that I may draft to fill spaces where particular plant players weren't able to perform up to my expectations.
In my March madness, I rip up weeds, who are playing where they shouldn't be and surround those favored plants who survived the winter season, with a pre-season cushion of mulch, so they can grow stronger through the spring into the stressful summer training season.
In about a month, my March madness will turn into plant pandemonium, as real spring comes and the temp doesn't fall to freezing on a whim. My seeming madness of being out in the bare looking gardens will be paid back in full. Enter April, May and June, when the iris don their flowing jerseys and daylilies, in full color, trumpet to the bees that it is REAL SPRING. Tulips, phlox, and sundrops will post up to defend against the growing green landscape, scoring points with passers by and ladybugs alike. No black and white whistle blowers here, no fouls, anything that blooms makes points, sometimes even weeds. I am convinced that God's favorite flower is the dandelion, so instead of cursing the yellow dots, I look at them as punctuation to Spring:
Spring is here! Spring is HERE!
Yes, March spring madness is here, so tomorrow I won't be listening to see if some small school beat some large school, I'll be taking the day off and spend it counting dandelions and earthworms. Come go mad with me!
Peace!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Confessions of an Amateur
Amateur: 1; a person who engages in a pursuit for pleasure and not as a profession. 2: a person who is not an expert. I'm such an amateur.
The definition certainly does draw an bold line to separate this amateur from the professional, and it almost sounds like, well a person who is amateur is not going to be very good at whatever pursuit they are engaging in.
Ah, but if you look at Websters source of the root of the word, you find from Latin amator -lover, fr. amare to love.
Amateurs love what they do. Love causes us to do the best we can.
So I hereby confess to be an amateur in the following:
Husband, There are no professionals in this realm and generally if you try to model your professional husband after some book or TV figure you will find out that what was written or filmed was not done by an amateur, and should of had a warning "I'm a professional do not try this at home.
Father, Again, looking for a professional model for this, you will find there are none, there are only ranks and ranks of amateurs who have made good in the pursuit of doing it with the least amount of pain and the greatest return on time and love invested. Nobody gets paid here.
Grandfather: Here everyone is an amateur, and to be honest, there has never been a professional league. Everyone loves it and would do it for nothing. Some folks even volunteer to do it for kids that aren't their own flesh and blood....amateurs.
Gardener; There are a lot of professionals in this field, but like professional baseball players, they are far outnumbered by amateurs. These amateurs are the most optimistic of all amateurs. Always hoping that some little seed or scrawny plant muse will give back some of the love they have recieved. They are always planning ways to be better, but not professional, amateur is just fine with them.
Runner; Amateurs show up at races where they have no chance of winning anything, and pay to be there too! I hope to never lose my amateur status in this category. * Getting t-shirts does not count as pay, it is only a token of appreciation for amateurs!
Singer; Another category where amateurs way outnumber the professionals. In this category though, there are many amateurs who in their hearts really, really , really want to be professionals, and are convinced they can be, we see them on American Idol every week. The real amateurs here know that the song that comes out of their mouth, is not necessarily the same as what they have in their heart, but it doesn't matter to them or usually to those that love them.
Christian disciple/witness; Amateur is what most see themselves as, and not just amateur, but part time amateur. I too have been in that category. Unlike the other amateur characters listed above, there is not much pride in being an amateur Christian. I don't mean to be mean, but somehow, being an amateur runner or gardener even parent is OK, but to be an amateur religious zealot, just seems weak.Is being an amateur Christian OK? If you go back to the definition and root of the word. Lover, to love. then perhaps being an amateur here is OK. If I profess to be a Christian, I hope that my amateurism shows here as much as it does in my grand parenting, or gardening or running, I hope that my love of the pursuit of sharing Christ, shows and that it is contagious.
If you have ever been around a group of grandparents, runners or gardeners, you will find these amateurs sharing experiences and advise. No one is judging the other by what they have accomplished, but all are wanting to learn and to teach. Yet in a group of Christians, the amateur who asks questions that they "should know the answer to" are treated as, well, amateur and may be scorned or mocked. I have had a lot of people tell me they are not in a Sunday School class or small group because they don't know enough. In other words, they feel that everyone else in the class is way above them in knowledge and having been in church longer are more schooled, perhaps even professional.
I say, let's all confess that in our faith we are amateurs. There have been and are professionals out there teaching and preaching, but the Great Commission was not given to a professional ad agency or a polling company. It wasn't put on a professional Power Point presentation or group email, it was given to a bunch of amateurs, who shared with a bunch more amateurs and they kept sharing. Yes, somewhere in there professionals have tried to take over, but the bottom line is, that without amateurs like you and me, the love that God has for us would never make it to the coffee shop or the cubical. So let it be known: Amateurs needed and more than welcome.
Come join us.
Peace.
Dan
The definition certainly does draw an bold line to separate this amateur from the professional, and it almost sounds like, well a person who is amateur is not going to be very good at whatever pursuit they are engaging in.
Ah, but if you look at Websters source of the root of the word, you find from Latin amator -lover, fr. amare to love.
Amateurs love what they do. Love causes us to do the best we can.
So I hereby confess to be an amateur in the following:
Husband, There are no professionals in this realm and generally if you try to model your professional husband after some book or TV figure you will find out that what was written or filmed was not done by an amateur, and should of had a warning "I'm a professional do not try this at home.
Father, Again, looking for a professional model for this, you will find there are none, there are only ranks and ranks of amateurs who have made good in the pursuit of doing it with the least amount of pain and the greatest return on time and love invested. Nobody gets paid here.
Grandfather: Here everyone is an amateur, and to be honest, there has never been a professional league. Everyone loves it and would do it for nothing. Some folks even volunteer to do it for kids that aren't their own flesh and blood....amateurs.
Gardener; There are a lot of professionals in this field, but like professional baseball players, they are far outnumbered by amateurs. These amateurs are the most optimistic of all amateurs. Always hoping that some little seed or scrawny plant muse will give back some of the love they have recieved. They are always planning ways to be better, but not professional, amateur is just fine with them.
Runner; Amateurs show up at races where they have no chance of winning anything, and pay to be there too! I hope to never lose my amateur status in this category. * Getting t-shirts does not count as pay, it is only a token of appreciation for amateurs!
Singer; Another category where amateurs way outnumber the professionals. In this category though, there are many amateurs who in their hearts really, really , really want to be professionals, and are convinced they can be, we see them on American Idol every week. The real amateurs here know that the song that comes out of their mouth, is not necessarily the same as what they have in their heart, but it doesn't matter to them or usually to those that love them.
Christian disciple/witness; Amateur is what most see themselves as, and not just amateur, but part time amateur. I too have been in that category. Unlike the other amateur characters listed above, there is not much pride in being an amateur Christian. I don't mean to be mean, but somehow, being an amateur runner or gardener even parent is OK, but to be an amateur religious zealot, just seems weak.Is being an amateur Christian OK? If you go back to the definition and root of the word. Lover, to love. then perhaps being an amateur here is OK. If I profess to be a Christian, I hope that my amateurism shows here as much as it does in my grand parenting, or gardening or running, I hope that my love of the pursuit of sharing Christ, shows and that it is contagious.
If you have ever been around a group of grandparents, runners or gardeners, you will find these amateurs sharing experiences and advise. No one is judging the other by what they have accomplished, but all are wanting to learn and to teach. Yet in a group of Christians, the amateur who asks questions that they "should know the answer to" are treated as, well, amateur and may be scorned or mocked. I have had a lot of people tell me they are not in a Sunday School class or small group because they don't know enough. In other words, they feel that everyone else in the class is way above them in knowledge and having been in church longer are more schooled, perhaps even professional.
I say, let's all confess that in our faith we are amateurs. There have been and are professionals out there teaching and preaching, but the Great Commission was not given to a professional ad agency or a polling company. It wasn't put on a professional Power Point presentation or group email, it was given to a bunch of amateurs, who shared with a bunch more amateurs and they kept sharing. Yes, somewhere in there professionals have tried to take over, but the bottom line is, that without amateurs like you and me, the love that God has for us would never make it to the coffee shop or the cubical. So let it be known: Amateurs needed and more than welcome.
Come join us.
Peace.
Dan
Monday, March 2, 2009
Eternal Optimist.
"Concrete is heavy; iron is hard--but the grass will prevail. " Edward Abbey
March 2, 2009, 18 days until Spring, when the grass will prevail....again! But as I look out my window this morning the remnants of Saturdays cold front that carried 3 inches of snow for us and up to a foot for folks farther east, still is piled in places protected from the weak, but strengthening sun. Today the high temp is to be in the mid 3o's but in 2 days, 65 degrees will once again give hope for Spring!
In the sermon yesterday the pastor used the parable of the sower, and asked if anyone was a full time sower, no hands went up. Then he asked if anyone would like to be a full time sower, mine was the only one that went up. In another era I might have been a farmer, like my grandfather before me. My parents are part time farmers and I am an amateur gardener. That sounds pretty lame, but if you look up the definition for amateur, you will find it has roots in I think French "amare=" to love". " A person who engages in a pursuit for pleasure and not as a profession." Well, that would be me. I would also have to add that as an amateur gardener, I am an optimist. Who knows what will happen when the seed or seedling is planted? I don't know for sure, but I hope for the best.
For several years now I have been a patron of the Missouri Department of Conservation's George O. White State Nursery near Licking Mo. This great service of the state allows citizens to purchase trees and shrubs for very low prices. I mean, where can you get 30 plants for $25 dollars.? The thing is these plants are very small and though some grow very fast, most will be 5 or more years to becoming the tree you will buy at a nursery for $50 or $100. With that in mind I determined that I was probably getting too old to purchase plants here with the expectations that I would see them mature. My thoughts on this are based on visiting my hometown and seeing trees I planted 25 years ago just beginning to really fill the vision I had when I planted them in 1984. Let's see 25 years from now, I'll be 78. So last year I declared, no more Conservation trees, I'm going to buy big trees that I can enjoy!
Well, I just got my post card notification from George O. White that my order will ship in the next 10 days or so. Red twig dogwoods, flowering dogwoods, Ohio Buckeye, White Fringe Tree, Golden Currant, and American Beauty berry. 25 plants to add to my amateur garden. Except for the Ohio Buckeye, these are all "fast growing native shrubs or small trees". I am optimistic that most of these shrubs will add beauty to my gardens and that my grandkids will bring me a buckeye when they visit me at the nursing home.
Peace
March 2, 2009, 18 days until Spring, when the grass will prevail....again! But as I look out my window this morning the remnants of Saturdays cold front that carried 3 inches of snow for us and up to a foot for folks farther east, still is piled in places protected from the weak, but strengthening sun. Today the high temp is to be in the mid 3o's but in 2 days, 65 degrees will once again give hope for Spring!
In the sermon yesterday the pastor used the parable of the sower, and asked if anyone was a full time sower, no hands went up. Then he asked if anyone would like to be a full time sower, mine was the only one that went up. In another era I might have been a farmer, like my grandfather before me. My parents are part time farmers and I am an amateur gardener. That sounds pretty lame, but if you look up the definition for amateur, you will find it has roots in I think French "amare=" to love". " A person who engages in a pursuit for pleasure and not as a profession." Well, that would be me. I would also have to add that as an amateur gardener, I am an optimist. Who knows what will happen when the seed or seedling is planted? I don't know for sure, but I hope for the best.
For several years now I have been a patron of the Missouri Department of Conservation's George O. White State Nursery near Licking Mo. This great service of the state allows citizens to purchase trees and shrubs for very low prices. I mean, where can you get 30 plants for $25 dollars.? The thing is these plants are very small and though some grow very fast, most will be 5 or more years to becoming the tree you will buy at a nursery for $50 or $100. With that in mind I determined that I was probably getting too old to purchase plants here with the expectations that I would see them mature. My thoughts on this are based on visiting my hometown and seeing trees I planted 25 years ago just beginning to really fill the vision I had when I planted them in 1984. Let's see 25 years from now, I'll be 78. So last year I declared, no more Conservation trees, I'm going to buy big trees that I can enjoy!
Well, I just got my post card notification from George O. White that my order will ship in the next 10 days or so. Red twig dogwoods, flowering dogwoods, Ohio Buckeye, White Fringe Tree, Golden Currant, and American Beauty berry. 25 plants to add to my amateur garden. Except for the Ohio Buckeye, these are all "fast growing native shrubs or small trees". I am optimistic that most of these shrubs will add beauty to my gardens and that my grandkids will bring me a buckeye when they visit me at the nursing home.
Peace
Monday, February 9, 2009
iPod therefore iAm
Do you ever get a song stuck in your head? You know like.....wait, I won't do that to you. But you know what I mean. A song in your head that interrupts the background noise of your life. It may even be a song that you like. Anyway this stuck song thing got me to thinking about background music. To be specific, the background music of my life.
I remember a comic strip, probably from the '60's called Mr. Abernathy, in one particular strip, he is exiting a movie theater and comments that he thinks all of life should have background music, just like the movies. Well, most of my life I have created my own background music, humming or whistling tunes I like. And then in my work life came Muzak, the tunes you can't escape. The background music of movies you never saw, or bands you never listened to all pumped into your life. All my years of working in retail stores, a person got so used to the loop of music being played, that you anticipated what the next song was. It was extremely annoying,... wait, next is the instrumental version of, .. wait for it... "Hey Jude" or some other rock song. But it just didn't sound quite right.
With all this music floating around and a huge choice of radio stations, and the tech advance to a CD where you can pick the sound you want to listen to without rewinding the tape of having to wait until the song comes up, everyone should have background music. But, I guess it wasn't enough. Welcome to the iPod world.
I received an iPod for Christmas, well, honestly, I asked for it. And now, wow, I can create my own background music for anytime, any occasion and any kind of music.
The prevalence of the iPod nation has been amazing to me, and yet, now that I have an iPod, I have seen an inkling of the obsessiveness. In the world of "me, mine and personal space" the iPod has taken that all to a new inner level. Mr. Abernathy's background music is fed directly to my ears, anytime, anyplace. iPod will even help you understand where you need this background music.
I was surprised when I downloaded my first music that there was a play list already waiting to be filled titled "Running Music" and one "On the Go" indicating that iPod understood and anticipated that I would not always be sitting still while engaged in the iPod mode. It seems that a majority of runners or walkers are sporting wires from their ears, even when running with someone else.
At a recent organized trail run on a 22 degree January day, many people had wires leaking out from under their stocking caps. As I looked around at these people I saw one young man with wires had actually taped his "buds" to his ears with black electrical tape. iPod has become, motivator, coach and guru of escape. I am defined by my play list, and recognized by my status of wiredness. It seems, iPod, therefore I am in my own little world, is where the culture is headed.
I experienced a disheartening example of iPod behavior last spring at the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. This marathon was established to remember those who died in the terrorist attack of the federal building on April 19, 1995. Each race starts with the national anthem and a time of silence to remember those who died. My first year there I was amazed and moved, that over 1000 people could be that quiet for over 60 seconds. It is very moving. This year it was a cold miserable rainy morning,( this all starts at 6am). As the race started and we began running I heard a iPod wired guy bragging to his running buddy, "Hey, you know during that national anthem and the silence time thing, man, I was rocking out to Guns and Roses." How sadly disrespectful, I wanted to trip the guy, he would never had heard me coming, there in his own sad little iPod world.
iPeace
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Do Do Do Lookin' Out My Front Door!
Well, I have to admit it, I am one with the Facebook nation, who reportedly, number in the millions. And on Facebook I have reconnected with some old friends, avoided others and sought still more.
In my Facebook world the "25 Things About Me" list has been circulating. This is an invitation to list 25 things about yourself, and you choose what they are. Following close behind are other lists with specific questions to answer, I don't do those. What I like about the "25" is that I choose to share what I want, no right or wrong. I can inflate my ego and tell of my great deeds, or I can talk all about how others are so important to me. I can thank God or curse Him, my choice.
I have some very creative friends, one did the list and said it was best when sung to the tune "Turkey in the Straw" which I'm sure everyone under the age of 25 knows by heart (ha!). It was cool. My own list was mostly revealing one liners "#3 I hate black olives", like that, short straight to the point and very very character revealing. Some friends were able (including Turkey in the Straw person) to write their life story in a 25 point biography, I was impressed. Like all things that go around the cyber world, "25" has become bit of a pest, and thus has spawned critics of not only the list but of Facebook. Someone sent me a list of "25 Things about Facebook" mostly humorous comments, that in a veiled way made users of Facebook seem naive and perhaps way too needy of something, although what was never made clear.
I responded and as I did, I came up with this thought about what Facebook is. I have described it to some as "community" or "place to reconnect", but tonight I thought of a different analogy: Front Porch.
In a nostalgic scene from a 1940's or 50's world where after supper people would walk through their neighborhood or down the road they might see a neighbor sitting on the front porch smoking, or drinking lemonade or just sitting, it was almost required to stop and visit, catch up on the news, gossip and remember events past. To me at the moment, that is Facebook.
I personally don't look at it more than once or twice a day, but in those moments I can catch up on what people are up to. I get new jokes, I learn little tidbits. "25" that my friends sent out let me into a more personal world, one that in this run, run, run, busy, busy, busy world, we don't have much time to explore. It's fun, and with common sense it's safe, and you can find out secrets about people. The list about Facebook said that someday someone will post high school pictures of you on Facebook, and what big hair you had. This has already happened, pictures from high school of our younger son, Brent, surfaced. It had all his group of friends he hung around with, including Karen (we didn't know it then) our future daughter-in-law. This was nostalgic and brought back fond parental memories. When I mentioned it to them, Karen said that she wasn't happy about that, and warned her friend "I have pictures too!" That too is part of Facebook, what goes around comes around, so be careful out there.
All in all Facebook will probably burn itself out , but for now if you want to stop and visit on my front porch, feel free.
Peace
In my Facebook world the "25 Things About Me" list has been circulating. This is an invitation to list 25 things about yourself, and you choose what they are. Following close behind are other lists with specific questions to answer, I don't do those. What I like about the "25" is that I choose to share what I want, no right or wrong. I can inflate my ego and tell of my great deeds, or I can talk all about how others are so important to me. I can thank God or curse Him, my choice.
I have some very creative friends, one did the list and said it was best when sung to the tune "Turkey in the Straw" which I'm sure everyone under the age of 25 knows by heart (ha!). It was cool. My own list was mostly revealing one liners "#3 I hate black olives", like that, short straight to the point and very very character revealing. Some friends were able (including Turkey in the Straw person) to write their life story in a 25 point biography, I was impressed. Like all things that go around the cyber world, "25" has become bit of a pest, and thus has spawned critics of not only the list but of Facebook. Someone sent me a list of "25 Things about Facebook" mostly humorous comments, that in a veiled way made users of Facebook seem naive and perhaps way too needy of something, although what was never made clear.
I responded and as I did, I came up with this thought about what Facebook is. I have described it to some as "community" or "place to reconnect", but tonight I thought of a different analogy: Front Porch.
In a nostalgic scene from a 1940's or 50's world where after supper people would walk through their neighborhood or down the road they might see a neighbor sitting on the front porch smoking, or drinking lemonade or just sitting, it was almost required to stop and visit, catch up on the news, gossip and remember events past. To me at the moment, that is Facebook.
I personally don't look at it more than once or twice a day, but in those moments I can catch up on what people are up to. I get new jokes, I learn little tidbits. "25" that my friends sent out let me into a more personal world, one that in this run, run, run, busy, busy, busy world, we don't have much time to explore. It's fun, and with common sense it's safe, and you can find out secrets about people. The list about Facebook said that someday someone will post high school pictures of you on Facebook, and what big hair you had. This has already happened, pictures from high school of our younger son, Brent, surfaced. It had all his group of friends he hung around with, including Karen (we didn't know it then) our future daughter-in-law. This was nostalgic and brought back fond parental memories. When I mentioned it to them, Karen said that she wasn't happy about that, and warned her friend "I have pictures too!" That too is part of Facebook, what goes around comes around, so be careful out there.
All in all Facebook will probably burn itself out , but for now if you want to stop and visit on my front porch, feel free.
Peace
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Slow down, your're moving too fast....
January 2009: The wind is blowing 30 mph, the real temperature is 17 degrees F, it is typical January. Yesterday it was 53 degrees at noon, by 6pm it was 36. But I don't have the blues about any of this. While on Facebook, Regina (the lovely wife) noticed some friends posted they were going hiking. With this inspiration, we decided to ditch plans to work around the house (I had taken a vacation day), and headed for Busiek State Park, about 20 minutes south.
When we left home it was a balmy 42 degrees but sunny.
We arrived, drove past the quarry that operates butt-up against the park, parked near the shooting range,and headed up the switch-backs of the "Purple Trail". It was beginning to warm up. I had a black shirt on, and the sun on my back was hot, making me sweat.
This particular part of the trail has a great view of the valley that small and often dry creek Wood's Fork runs through. This is also the trail that some "crazy trail runners" of which I am one, use for training. Today was the first time I had walked the whole trail and got to really see what was there.
The cool thing about switch backs on a trail or a road is that you can look back where you came from, see your progress and take in a bigger view as you go. When we were about half way up, we stopped and I saw down below another car had parked by the trail head. I could see someone making preparation to hike, trunk of car open backpack on the ground, etc. .. I figured we were moving fast enough we would stay ahead of them. Like I said I had only run this trail, and the amount of time it took us to get to the top, was about the same as what it took me running to get all the way around to where it comes back down. Anyway we stopped and took some pictures and went on our way, leisurely enjoying time together, time without real time constraints.
As we got to the top, I looked back to see if the other hiker had was in sight, nope, nobody back there. Just as I turned around Regina said something like "we're not alone" and there in front of us was the other hiker. This person, I couldn't tell male of female, had bushwhacked, up the side of the hill, ignoring at least part of the switchbacks, and now was on top, ahead of us.
This made me think, "What is your hurry?" but I quickly had to withdraw that remark, because it was too self- incriminating. Today I wasn't in a rush, but only for today. I am usually weighing how much time something will take against how that time would be better spent, and as I said this was the first time I had WALKED this trail, not ran it. When I ran it was with the idea of being ahead, on top.
So as we continued to hike along, stop and take pictures of ourselves, the other hiker was soon out of sight. We stopped to look at the only green in the woods, moss, on the ground and on trees The moss seemed to be especially glowing, showing off even, in the filtered January sunlight.
Completing the loop, we walked along the dry creek bed, gravel probably a foot of two deep in places and discovered a spring coming out of the rocky creek bank. It was cheerfully gurgling over bedrock and disappearing under the gravel of the creek bed. We took pictures of each other at a place where another spring had created an ice cave of sorts, hanging from the rock bluff. We took our time, and in total spent about 2 and half hours just slowing down and accomplishing, by measure of the normal world, not much. It was the most fun we had had in a while. That in itself is a very sobering statement. We should have stayed longer, but there were other things calling that "needed" to be done.
I write this, not to brag that we have thrown off some of the chains of "doing", but to hopefully remind me (and perhaps you) that life is short, and we need to ....."make the morning last", because if you do at the end you'll be "Feelin' Groovy!"
When we left home it was a balmy 42 degrees but sunny.
We arrived, drove past the quarry that operates butt-up against the park, parked near the shooting range,and headed up the switch-backs of the "Purple Trail". It was beginning to warm up. I had a black shirt on, and the sun on my back was hot, making me sweat.
This particular part of the trail has a great view of the valley that small and often dry creek Wood's Fork runs through. This is also the trail that some "crazy trail runners" of which I am one, use for training. Today was the first time I had walked the whole trail and got to really see what was there.
The cool thing about switch backs on a trail or a road is that you can look back where you came from, see your progress and take in a bigger view as you go. When we were about half way up, we stopped and I saw down below another car had parked by the trail head. I could see someone making preparation to hike, trunk of car open backpack on the ground, etc. .. I figured we were moving fast enough we would stay ahead of them. Like I said I had only run this trail, and the amount of time it took us to get to the top, was about the same as what it took me running to get all the way around to where it comes back down. Anyway we stopped and took some pictures and went on our way, leisurely enjoying time together, time without real time constraints.
As we got to the top, I looked back to see if the other hiker had was in sight, nope, nobody back there. Just as I turned around Regina said something like "we're not alone" and there in front of us was the other hiker. This person, I couldn't tell male of female, had bushwhacked, up the side of the hill, ignoring at least part of the switchbacks, and now was on top, ahead of us.
This made me think, "What is your hurry?" but I quickly had to withdraw that remark, because it was too self- incriminating. Today I wasn't in a rush, but only for today. I am usually weighing how much time something will take against how that time would be better spent, and as I said this was the first time I had WALKED this trail, not ran it. When I ran it was with the idea of being ahead, on top.
So as we continued to hike along, stop and take pictures of ourselves, the other hiker was soon out of sight. We stopped to look at the only green in the woods, moss, on the ground and on trees The moss seemed to be especially glowing, showing off even, in the filtered January sunlight.
Completing the loop, we walked along the dry creek bed, gravel probably a foot of two deep in places and discovered a spring coming out of the rocky creek bank. It was cheerfully gurgling over bedrock and disappearing under the gravel of the creek bed. We took pictures of each other at a place where another spring had created an ice cave of sorts, hanging from the rock bluff. We took our time, and in total spent about 2 and half hours just slowing down and accomplishing, by measure of the normal world, not much. It was the most fun we had had in a while. That in itself is a very sobering statement. We should have stayed longer, but there were other things calling that "needed" to be done.
I write this, not to brag that we have thrown off some of the chains of "doing", but to hopefully remind me (and perhaps you) that life is short, and we need to ....."make the morning last", because if you do at the end you'll be "Feelin' Groovy!"
Saturday, January 17, 2009
A new Mr. President and some change..
As a nation, we are just a couple of days from a historic event. A new President. All the news channels are abuzz about just how HISTORIC the swearing in of Obama will be. There will be change, yes there will be, you betcha! But this blog is not about politics, it is today about observations of change.
This morning my wife and I watched our 5 year old grandson play his very first basketball game. This is the kindergarten league at our church and it seems oh so simple, basketball that is. For all but a few of these kids, up until now, a gym was not for basketball, it was a place of freedom. No obstacles, a wide open space, where when the rules were relaxed you can run and run and run. A place of inventing variations on the game of tag, or chase, or racing anything. Unstructured in a large open structure. It was great! Today, and all the nights of practice changed all that, well at least it should have.
We laughed and said we love this league, the league where the players don't all run onto the court, some skipped, others hopped. A league where dribbling the ball is a constant battle against gravity, where forward motion of yourself and another object has yet to be mastered.
This is a learning league. The coaches are on the court directing and encouraging, as are the referees. Helping shots go in and even a couple of times a referee lifting someone off the floor to dunk. The coaches and referees all watching to make sure that everyone who is playing touches the ball,or gets a shot, reinforcing that everyone played today.
That was the game today, nobody got called for walking with the ball, which they did a lot of, or double dribble, which they did very little since they hardly dribbled at all, they just had fun. For some the object of the day was to see how loud they could make their footfalls be as they ran down the court, grinning all the way.
Later we watched the older brother play, he's 10, this will be his fourth year of play. What a change. It was still fun, but much more serious, and the refs did blow their whistles a lot more. There was still encouragement and fun on the floor. Smiles and cheers for both teams, but somehow, it changed from the kindergarten game. The intensity was higher as well as expectations. There were no players skipping onto the court. But, the smiles were just as big when a basket was made and the cheers for good plays still rang in the room. Expectations were higher, but the fun was still there. It was just different. Something had changed.
When change comes we may regret that it makes life different, but as the old saw goes, "if you ain't changing you must be dead!" So I'll take the change in basketball style in stride and adjust my fan status as needed. I also will look at the change to come in the country and remember my favorite words from the Bible "and it came to pass.."
Peace.
This morning my wife and I watched our 5 year old grandson play his very first basketball game. This is the kindergarten league at our church and it seems oh so simple, basketball that is. For all but a few of these kids, up until now, a gym was not for basketball, it was a place of freedom. No obstacles, a wide open space, where when the rules were relaxed you can run and run and run. A place of inventing variations on the game of tag, or chase, or racing anything. Unstructured in a large open structure. It was great! Today, and all the nights of practice changed all that, well at least it should have.
We laughed and said we love this league, the league where the players don't all run onto the court, some skipped, others hopped. A league where dribbling the ball is a constant battle against gravity, where forward motion of yourself and another object has yet to be mastered.
This is a learning league. The coaches are on the court directing and encouraging, as are the referees. Helping shots go in and even a couple of times a referee lifting someone off the floor to dunk. The coaches and referees all watching to make sure that everyone who is playing touches the ball,or gets a shot, reinforcing that everyone played today.
That was the game today, nobody got called for walking with the ball, which they did a lot of, or double dribble, which they did very little since they hardly dribbled at all, they just had fun. For some the object of the day was to see how loud they could make their footfalls be as they ran down the court, grinning all the way.
Later we watched the older brother play, he's 10, this will be his fourth year of play. What a change. It was still fun, but much more serious, and the refs did blow their whistles a lot more. There was still encouragement and fun on the floor. Smiles and cheers for both teams, but somehow, it changed from the kindergarten game. The intensity was higher as well as expectations. There were no players skipping onto the court. But, the smiles were just as big when a basket was made and the cheers for good plays still rang in the room. Expectations were higher, but the fun was still there. It was just different. Something had changed.
When change comes we may regret that it makes life different, but as the old saw goes, "if you ain't changing you must be dead!" So I'll take the change in basketball style in stride and adjust my fan status as needed. I also will look at the change to come in the country and remember my favorite words from the Bible "and it came to pass.."
Peace.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Of Flea Markets and Landfills
Today is Tuesday, trash day. Of all the events that have importance on the weekly calendar, Tuesday cannot be missed. The big truck comes by around 8:30 or 9am, stops for maybe a minute and carries off what has taken a week to collect. In the last year or so we have become more intentional in recycling and so if we miss a week of feeding the trash truck, our trash can will have room for another week of collecting. Collecting, that is what we do as Americans, we collect. Each week I save up all the unwanted stuff and send it to the big collection place in the city where it is transferred to bigger trucks that take it to the bigger collection place, the landfill. Landfill is itself an interesting word, seeing as how most of the time, the trash I send is not filling up the land, the land is already full. The landfill people, just scrape off some of the land and pile the trash high and then cover it with what they scrapped off. Now the collection is covered.
This past weekend my wife and I partook in one of our fun activities, we went flea-marketing. Almost always we have some goal or item or "collectible" which we are looking for, this time we did not. And so we spent more time just looking, it gives us time together that doesn't require reservations or much planning at all. As we were going through these monuments to the American way of life and desire, it occurred to me that the line between flea markets and landfills is very thin.
Nearly every flea market you shop in has some really good stuff, stuff that is new or looks like new. There are booths that are decorated with the stuff of the past and are much fancier than any room in our home. But in almost everyone of these markets you will find an area or a couple of booths that are filled with stuff that looks just like what the trash man picked up at your house last week. So in all this shopping around on Sunday, it suddenly dawned on me that each and every person really should have a flea market booth. It makes so much more sense than paying someone to take your trash and bury it. It really is the ultimate recycle center.
I thought of all the flea markets just in our area and was grateful to the people who had opted not to make more trash heaps, but to display there cast offs, and occasionally make a dollar off someone like me. I tried to imagine how many cubic yards of dirt it would take to cover all the iron, aluminum, tin and plastic in the flea markets in southwest Missouri, or how much pollution would be pumped into the air from burning all that furniture, paper and wood. This thought process made me look at the whole world of flea markets and antique stores in a new light. Now each time I pass those rundown building with a poorly lettered "Antiques" sign, I will be thankful that someone will take the time to sort their castoffs, display them and live in hope for a dollar here or there . I'm thankful for flea markets, they are helping save the Earth. I'm also thankful for those green bottles I needed for a garden project and that John Denver and the Muppet's VHS I got for a dollar. See you at the landfill, er, flea market! Peace.
This past weekend my wife and I partook in one of our fun activities, we went flea-marketing. Almost always we have some goal or item or "collectible" which we are looking for, this time we did not. And so we spent more time just looking, it gives us time together that doesn't require reservations or much planning at all. As we were going through these monuments to the American way of life and desire, it occurred to me that the line between flea markets and landfills is very thin.
Nearly every flea market you shop in has some really good stuff, stuff that is new or looks like new. There are booths that are decorated with the stuff of the past and are much fancier than any room in our home. But in almost everyone of these markets you will find an area or a couple of booths that are filled with stuff that looks just like what the trash man picked up at your house last week. So in all this shopping around on Sunday, it suddenly dawned on me that each and every person really should have a flea market booth. It makes so much more sense than paying someone to take your trash and bury it. It really is the ultimate recycle center.
I thought of all the flea markets just in our area and was grateful to the people who had opted not to make more trash heaps, but to display there cast offs, and occasionally make a dollar off someone like me. I tried to imagine how many cubic yards of dirt it would take to cover all the iron, aluminum, tin and plastic in the flea markets in southwest Missouri, or how much pollution would be pumped into the air from burning all that furniture, paper and wood. This thought process made me look at the whole world of flea markets and antique stores in a new light. Now each time I pass those rundown building with a poorly lettered "Antiques" sign, I will be thankful that someone will take the time to sort their castoffs, display them and live in hope for a dollar here or there . I'm thankful for flea markets, they are helping save the Earth. I'm also thankful for those green bottles I needed for a garden project and that John Denver and the Muppet's VHS I got for a dollar. See you at the landfill, er, flea market! Peace.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
There goes the Sun!
"At last the sun touched the skyline, merged with it for a moment in a final explosive blaze of light an heat and sank out of sight. " Edward Abbey, author: Desert Solitare
Everyday that happens somewhere on this planet, in New York City, in Australia, at the beach in Hawaii someplace significant. Funny how it seems people are always remembering that special sunset with that special someone in that special somewhere.
My blog title refers to where I live with my wife, 3 dogs and a cat. It's 3 acres on the corner of a farm of memory. A place where someone had a small orchard, kept calves in pens near the barn and gardened. On top of this ridge on the Ozark Plateau, two pear trees still struggle to bear some fruit, walnut trees sprout and iris fight their way up through fescue in the field next to our property line.
Here the wind always seems to blow and no matter where strike the ground to dig with shovel, hoe, or pick, there will be, at that precise place, a rock, some sizable some not, but always a rock. Because of promince of wind and rocks we have dubbed our little garden spot "Windrock" or more formally "Windrock Gardens". Lying beneath the wind and mixed with the rocks there's also a little dirt. With that said, the main feature that brought us here almost 6 years ago, is what Abbey described in his quote.
Everyday, clear or cloudy, the sun completes it's journey in the west, and there just off our deck is a memorable sunset. We have become somewhat snobbish about this, to the point that when we are driving somewhere and see a great sunset, my wife or I will usually say, "Not as good as at home!"
A few weeks back a low cloud ceiling gave us one of those memorable sunsets, it was sensational. A week later a photo and story showed up in the local paper. The writer commented that even people in the Best Buy parking lot were looking up. It was spectacular. I think they all are. Spectacular in that they are unique, and for some a witness to the Creator of all things. I remember that sunset, I even have a half dozen pictures, but none of them are as good as the memory. They never are. So when the sun goes down today, pay attention, it will be something to see! Peace.
Everyday that happens somewhere on this planet, in New York City, in Australia, at the beach in Hawaii someplace significant. Funny how it seems people are always remembering that special sunset with that special someone in that special somewhere.
My blog title refers to where I live with my wife, 3 dogs and a cat. It's 3 acres on the corner of a farm of memory. A place where someone had a small orchard, kept calves in pens near the barn and gardened. On top of this ridge on the Ozark Plateau, two pear trees still struggle to bear some fruit, walnut trees sprout and iris fight their way up through fescue in the field next to our property line.
Here the wind always seems to blow and no matter where strike the ground to dig with shovel, hoe, or pick, there will be, at that precise place, a rock, some sizable some not, but always a rock. Because of promince of wind and rocks we have dubbed our little garden spot "Windrock" or more formally "Windrock Gardens". Lying beneath the wind and mixed with the rocks there's also a little dirt. With that said, the main feature that brought us here almost 6 years ago, is what Abbey described in his quote.
Everyday, clear or cloudy, the sun completes it's journey in the west, and there just off our deck is a memorable sunset. We have become somewhat snobbish about this, to the point that when we are driving somewhere and see a great sunset, my wife or I will usually say, "Not as good as at home!"
A few weeks back a low cloud ceiling gave us one of those memorable sunsets, it was sensational. A week later a photo and story showed up in the local paper. The writer commented that even people in the Best Buy parking lot were looking up. It was spectacular. I think they all are. Spectacular in that they are unique, and for some a witness to the Creator of all things. I remember that sunset, I even have a half dozen pictures, but none of them are as good as the memory. They never are. So when the sun goes down today, pay attention, it will be something to see! Peace.
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