I watched the Kennedy Center Honors tonight on television. It was like a walk through my past as three of the honorees; Robert DeNiro, Mel Brooks and Bruce Springsteen all reminded me of when I was growing up during the nineteen seventies and early eighties. Who could ever forget movies like "The Deer Hunter" "Blazing Saddles" or songs like "Born In The USA"
I think Springsteen's tribute got to me the most as John Stewart of "The Daily Show" gave a surprising personal narrative about the essence of Bruce Springsteen's music. Later came tributes by John Cougar Mellencamp, Melissa Etheridge and Sting. The following is my own story done in a style I tried to capture like Springsteen would. It is a little down but don't take it too seriously. If life on earth is a roller coaster then heaven must be a rock concert! Here goes...
Standing Still
I was an old eighteen
Coming straight out of high school
Friends were on their way
They made plans like I was supposed to
But I found myself standing still
Nowhere in particular to go
Clueless as could be
Living in that small farm town
Facing those same foundry gates
That stole my daddy away
Twelve hours a day and then some
Lost child in a crowd of friendly’s
That’s what I became.
Standing still
Nothing but the sound of life
Passing me by
Silent rhythm of a follower
Disciple of the popular crowd.
Signed the dotted line
Uncle Sam wanted me
So I went into that Missouri country side
Hoping I’d made the right decision
Amnesty at midnight or a nightmare
I did not know then but I know now
How the world preys on the ignorant child
Loose as a canon pointed at my head
Late night drunk or high again
Cold cobblestone still haunts my bed
That boy has faded like the weeds of Hindenburg.
Standing still
Nothing but the sound of life
Passing me by
Silent rhythm of a follower
Disciple of the popular crowd.
Today I’m trapped inside this body
Kids are growing and life is flowing
So far from my home town now
An hour seems an eternity
Still the one in the middle
Man on the outside
Meets boy who dreams of tomorrow
Like a golden ticket that never comes
Hopes held high in mediocrity
Only the words can set me free
From standing still forever now.
Oh Lord, where have the years gone?
Still feels like I’m standing here
Nothing but the sound of life
Passing me by
Silent rhythm of my heart beat
Drowning out the popular crowd.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
To Wonderings Past and Present
Today I would like to share something that came to me out of the blue after purchasing a Christmas gift for a good friend of mine. He has been a counselor and friend to me for more than a decade now and I felt the time was right to show him how much he has meant to me on this journey of self discovery. And so, here's to R. C.; a true companion on the journey.
To wonderings past and present
On paths or trails I spent
Traversing hill or dale
In search of meaning went
With staff in hand a true companion
To clear the weeds or test the depths
Of streams I longed to cross
Through fields of morning vale
In hopes of greater meaning there
Amidst the journeys grander scale
Return to tell the tale
In kind a gestured gift
Reminiscent of the climb
Which took me there
A higher plain on which to tread
Where no doubt could arise
And break familiar ties
That ruled my life
And left for dead
The dreams of freedom in my head
That stood the test of time.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Plainly Spoken, Pefectly Understood
I was clicking through the channels on my television the other night and came across the film, “Evan Almighty.” Now, granted, most people probably had enough from the first installment with Jim Carrie; a bitter man who blames God for abandoning him and causing his bubble to be burst because someone else got the promotion he should have gotten and the ensuing chain of unfortunate events that followed. Then, as if God had had enough of the tantrum, comes to the man personally as a lowly janitor and proceeds to give him the “keys to the kingdom” as it were. The whole idea of God having a tough job to do and putting the lowly egotistical human in his place by putting him in his shoes washes with some but really irks countless others. While I see the entertainment value of the story, I can also see how humans flock to the things they know like bodily functions and sex as a way to try and distract themselves or their attempts to relate to a higher consciousness. This brings me back to the latter.
Evan is a man who has seemingly come full circle in life and has found no satisfaction in trying to make a difference in the world. No matter how hard he tries, the human condition always seems to supersede his efforts and nothing gets accomplished; the “status quo” prevails. It is then that God arrives and provides the opportunity for Evan to really get the attention of people by doing something as outlandish as building an ark. The ensuing events evoke a few laughs, but there is one scene in the movie that really struck me. As Evan is busy putting together the ark, his family sits at a table at a restaurant or bar eating fried food and being quite bewildered. His wife orders a refill on her meal and in walks God posing as a waiter and offers advice on the situation.
What strikes me is the truth in what he says. “When someone prays to God for courage, does he give them courage or does he provide an opportunity to show courage?” When a person prays for patience and understanding, does he give them or does he provide opportunities for a person to show them?” I guess you could say God is more plainly spoken than we think some times and we could be more understanding if we see life in terms of problems as opportunities rather than afflictions. He gave us all we need to survive and he gives us the wisdom to overcome if we simply choose to. I’ll have to get back with you when this starts working for me as I am still struggling with a few of my own issues. That is what I mean by my life as “A work in progress.”
Evan is a man who has seemingly come full circle in life and has found no satisfaction in trying to make a difference in the world. No matter how hard he tries, the human condition always seems to supersede his efforts and nothing gets accomplished; the “status quo” prevails. It is then that God arrives and provides the opportunity for Evan to really get the attention of people by doing something as outlandish as building an ark. The ensuing events evoke a few laughs, but there is one scene in the movie that really struck me. As Evan is busy putting together the ark, his family sits at a table at a restaurant or bar eating fried food and being quite bewildered. His wife orders a refill on her meal and in walks God posing as a waiter and offers advice on the situation.
What strikes me is the truth in what he says. “When someone prays to God for courage, does he give them courage or does he provide an opportunity to show courage?” When a person prays for patience and understanding, does he give them or does he provide opportunities for a person to show them?” I guess you could say God is more plainly spoken than we think some times and we could be more understanding if we see life in terms of problems as opportunities rather than afflictions. He gave us all we need to survive and he gives us the wisdom to overcome if we simply choose to. I’ll have to get back with you when this starts working for me as I am still struggling with a few of my own issues. That is what I mean by my life as “A work in progress.”
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Yuletide Legacy
I found out when I was a kid that a portion of the Miami and Erie Canal ran through our back yard. By the looks of it you really could not tell as the banks had long since been pushed in and there were faint clues like portions that widened at certain points and standing water most of the year in what looked like a drainage ditch. My older brothers used to trap for musk rat and mink along it and hunt for rabbits further south out of town towards the clay tile mill. It is said that the bricks that went into our twin steeple church were formed and fired there in the late eighteen hundreds. I remember sledding down the weed covered hill onto the ice covered pond behind the clay works in winter.
Today, the canal looks much like it did then but the mill pond and sledding hill are long gone. I wonder how many miles of red clay drainage tile still lie beneath the earth in fields all around the surrounding area near my home town. They were used to control the drainage of what used to be The Great Black Swamp. It took a hardy group of immigrant farmers to clear, drain and produce crops on such a land so hostile. Just the mosquitoes alone would have been enough to drive many away. Some of my ancestors came down from Canada to dig the canal so that goods and people could settle and move through the area on their way to Lake Erie, Cincinnati and beyond.
This causes me to imagine the faith of these people that brought them there to begin with. German, Dutch and French left familiar faces and family to claim a piece of the American dream. And so, here is my rendering of that time through the words and images that came to me in a dream some years ago. It all begins with Christmas Eve…
On a cold December night
As the stars shine bright
Windowed faces of log houses
Flicker in candle light.
Warm quaint spaces
Crackling fire places
Kettles cooling beside once busy hearths
Shadowed now in evening shade.
In a time long forgot
People settle in their cots
While snow drifts gather
Ever higher along a man-made river.
Paths between cleared fields
Scarred by wagon wheel trenches
Now covered in utter white perfection
Stretch a lonely mile in twilight.
Forest branches creaking restless
Weight of ice and arctic breezes
Bring dormant trees to life
In clues of seasons past.
Doe and yearling forage
For a meal made scarce
Steaming breath releasing
A drink of water from a thin veiled stream.
Everywhere, darkness lingers
Stilled by a shining celestial body
Gleaming high above in an eastern sky
While immigrant farmers dream a yuletide scene.
A story told since youth
Son of God born a humble birth
In a land of palm fronds and sand
A king of heaven on earth.
Simple men tending their flocks
Wise men stirring from their dreams
Flee to a simple manger in Bethlehem
To see a Savior who would be king.
Now, looking back upon tradition
Christians telling in succession
This same story passing generations
As our founding is self evident
Remains for us a destiny
Like an American yuletide legacy.
Today, the canal looks much like it did then but the mill pond and sledding hill are long gone. I wonder how many miles of red clay drainage tile still lie beneath the earth in fields all around the surrounding area near my home town. They were used to control the drainage of what used to be The Great Black Swamp. It took a hardy group of immigrant farmers to clear, drain and produce crops on such a land so hostile. Just the mosquitoes alone would have been enough to drive many away. Some of my ancestors came down from Canada to dig the canal so that goods and people could settle and move through the area on their way to Lake Erie, Cincinnati and beyond.
This causes me to imagine the faith of these people that brought them there to begin with. German, Dutch and French left familiar faces and family to claim a piece of the American dream. And so, here is my rendering of that time through the words and images that came to me in a dream some years ago. It all begins with Christmas Eve…
On a cold December night
As the stars shine bright
Windowed faces of log houses
Flicker in candle light.
Warm quaint spaces
Crackling fire places
Kettles cooling beside once busy hearths
Shadowed now in evening shade.
In a time long forgot
People settle in their cots
While snow drifts gather
Ever higher along a man-made river.
Paths between cleared fields
Scarred by wagon wheel trenches
Now covered in utter white perfection
Stretch a lonely mile in twilight.
Forest branches creaking restless
Weight of ice and arctic breezes
Bring dormant trees to life
In clues of seasons past.
Doe and yearling forage
For a meal made scarce
Steaming breath releasing
A drink of water from a thin veiled stream.
Everywhere, darkness lingers
Stilled by a shining celestial body
Gleaming high above in an eastern sky
While immigrant farmers dream a yuletide scene.
A story told since youth
Son of God born a humble birth
In a land of palm fronds and sand
A king of heaven on earth.
Simple men tending their flocks
Wise men stirring from their dreams
Flee to a simple manger in Bethlehem
To see a Savior who would be king.
Now, looking back upon tradition
Christians telling in succession
This same story passing generations
As our founding is self evident
Remains for us a destiny
Like an American yuletide legacy.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The River Rush
I have heard people speak of the excitement of white water rafting; I have experienced the runner’s high and known the cold darkness of despair. Some things we gather by way of our senses and others through the filter of our past experience or what we perceive to be the way to happiness.
What I think is missing sometimes is that we fail to slow ourselves down enough to really hear the river rush or follow the trail that leads to true happiness. We are simply too busy moving at the speed of life that there does not seem a moment to comprehend the purpose of what we are trying to accomplish. Matthew Kelly suggests that we focus too much on ourselves and fail to “see the forest through he trees” if you will. What he recommends is opening ourselves to the happiness of others and leaving the rest to God to fulfill, namely the pursuit of happiness.
Christmas is an opportunity as much as a problem for many of us, especially those who are jobless, homeless or lacking some other means to securing happiness. We equate having a steady income or a warm place to sleep with the idea that happiness is something we earn rather than something that occurs as a result of giving ourselves up to the will of God. I can tell you from experience, there is nothing more joyful than seeing the look in a child’s eyes and smile when you recognize them for the special person that they are and in turn see them offer themselves freely to help someone else. Now that is some powerful stuff!
For me, those moments of joy come when I go freely into the wilderness and sit quietly or walk amongst God’s creation. Even so, it adds more when I can share it with someone else who may not take the time to do so often enough. More than not I hear about sore feet or aching legs, but the more you go there, the less it seems a burden. So remember to listen to the sounds all around you and let God take you to that place where happiness awaits. Take care and God bless!
What I think is missing sometimes is that we fail to slow ourselves down enough to really hear the river rush or follow the trail that leads to true happiness. We are simply too busy moving at the speed of life that there does not seem a moment to comprehend the purpose of what we are trying to accomplish. Matthew Kelly suggests that we focus too much on ourselves and fail to “see the forest through he trees” if you will. What he recommends is opening ourselves to the happiness of others and leaving the rest to God to fulfill, namely the pursuit of happiness.
Christmas is an opportunity as much as a problem for many of us, especially those who are jobless, homeless or lacking some other means to securing happiness. We equate having a steady income or a warm place to sleep with the idea that happiness is something we earn rather than something that occurs as a result of giving ourselves up to the will of God. I can tell you from experience, there is nothing more joyful than seeing the look in a child’s eyes and smile when you recognize them for the special person that they are and in turn see them offer themselves freely to help someone else. Now that is some powerful stuff!
For me, those moments of joy come when I go freely into the wilderness and sit quietly or walk amongst God’s creation. Even so, it adds more when I can share it with someone else who may not take the time to do so often enough. More than not I hear about sore feet or aching legs, but the more you go there, the less it seems a burden. So remember to listen to the sounds all around you and let God take you to that place where happiness awaits. Take care and God bless!
Friday, November 13, 2009
Beyond First Sight
From the book of wisdom we find a discourse on the nature of man to understand the world from his own perspective. He seeks meaning merely through the senses in which he experiences life as a mortal being rather than utilizing the sensations of the heart to find a greater path towards heaven. And with these are born the emotions that plague him and yet deliver him to ultimate freedom.
You see, meaning is derived through free will to lead us to enlightenment or by choice down a road of mistrust, greed, anger and all the other emotional responses inherent in human nature. Why waste time contemplating the choices of other men who for their own reasons go astray when it is our own decision to continue on doing what is right by the goodness of God? True, that we must protect the innocent and guard the righteous through the dispassion of justice, but not to condemn by way of vengeance for the sake of our own upturned happiness.
There is no “eye for an eye” in the law of the Lord, only a challenge to consider what good is gathered from right or the despair and agony of doing wrong to another human being. This brings forth the image of blind justice who does not rely on the seen, rather on the greater good or ill that comes from the deed itself in relation to the whole. The trouble begins when man stays rooted in the things that are mere creature comforts; shelter, food or the gold in which he gathers unto himself. It is through the unselfish act and for the sake of love that man remains in the favor of God almighty. It all comes down to the choice to see beyond first sight and the challenge remains for us to see as God sees, not as we do.
You see, meaning is derived through free will to lead us to enlightenment or by choice down a road of mistrust, greed, anger and all the other emotional responses inherent in human nature. Why waste time contemplating the choices of other men who for their own reasons go astray when it is our own decision to continue on doing what is right by the goodness of God? True, that we must protect the innocent and guard the righteous through the dispassion of justice, but not to condemn by way of vengeance for the sake of our own upturned happiness.
There is no “eye for an eye” in the law of the Lord, only a challenge to consider what good is gathered from right or the despair and agony of doing wrong to another human being. This brings forth the image of blind justice who does not rely on the seen, rather on the greater good or ill that comes from the deed itself in relation to the whole. The trouble begins when man stays rooted in the things that are mere creature comforts; shelter, food or the gold in which he gathers unto himself. It is through the unselfish act and for the sake of love that man remains in the favor of God almighty. It all comes down to the choice to see beyond first sight and the challenge remains for us to see as God sees, not as we do.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Friends like Us
I have often considered this past year the journey. Being at home and searching for suitable employment has not been an easy road to travel. The hardest days are when I cannot get outside to walk in the park with my dog Buddy. I just let him run to his heart’s content while I use the moment to converse in prayer. Until recently this conversation seemed one sided with me talking to God and not allowing him to speak to me in his own way. He speaks through his creation; wind passing over pine needles, a trickling stream or the smile of a child.
This past week I came across the classic comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes.” The image of Calvin careening down a hillside in a little red wagon with Hobbes sitting in the back reminds me of the relationship between me and God. Life seems to speed out of control some times and unless we take the time to realize help and support is right behind us, it is easy to just crash at the bottom of the hill. Even if it is just the voice of reason poking us in the back side, we can often times miss the opportunity to change our direction or at least choose a softer spot to land below.
Busy schedules, kid’s activities and the hectic life style we live can blind us to the fact that a way through the dark is present in the smallest things. There is always light at the end of the path if we let the voice of our Savior ease us into the next bump in the road. Like Hobbes, we have a source of strength and fellowship that helps us navigate the rough spots and celebrates the smooth ones with us. So, for today, climb aboard the red wagon express and know that there is hope and light and a friend like us to share the journey. For me, the following video is both a tribute to this relationship and a lesson that we are not alone through our journey through life. See him in the stars at night or the blue skies of day. Take care and God bless.
This past week I came across the classic comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes.” The image of Calvin careening down a hillside in a little red wagon with Hobbes sitting in the back reminds me of the relationship between me and God. Life seems to speed out of control some times and unless we take the time to realize help and support is right behind us, it is easy to just crash at the bottom of the hill. Even if it is just the voice of reason poking us in the back side, we can often times miss the opportunity to change our direction or at least choose a softer spot to land below.
Busy schedules, kid’s activities and the hectic life style we live can blind us to the fact that a way through the dark is present in the smallest things. There is always light at the end of the path if we let the voice of our Savior ease us into the next bump in the road. Like Hobbes, we have a source of strength and fellowship that helps us navigate the rough spots and celebrates the smooth ones with us. So, for today, climb aboard the red wagon express and know that there is hope and light and a friend like us to share the journey. For me, the following video is both a tribute to this relationship and a lesson that we are not alone through our journey through life. See him in the stars at night or the blue skies of day. Take care and God bless.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The First Autumn Leaf
Autumn came early
In late September
While a storm
Brought the rain
Across my face
It trickled down
And I felt
A maple leaf
Hit the ground.
It was the first
Autumn leaf to fall
Withering in the cold
But it was special
Marking the end
And the beginning somehow
Of a lasting friendship
I long for now.
We came together
It was July
Blue and Gold
Around a table
Each an individual
Stranger to another
But soon united
I could tell.
The days passed quietly
And more leaves fell
Like the first one there
No longer so special
Covered by the others
Lost in the shuffle
Fading into fertile soil
Nature retelling her tale.
In one autumn leaf
Friends of a feather
Leaves to a tree
Gather as a whole
Clinging to hold on
Each day upon another
In separate ways gone
But strangers again, never.
In late September
While a storm
Brought the rain
Across my face
It trickled down
And I felt
A maple leaf
Hit the ground.
It was the first
Autumn leaf to fall
Withering in the cold
But it was special
Marking the end
And the beginning somehow
Of a lasting friendship
I long for now.
We came together
It was July
Blue and Gold
Around a table
Each an individual
Stranger to another
But soon united
I could tell.
The days passed quietly
And more leaves fell
Like the first one there
No longer so special
Covered by the others
Lost in the shuffle
Fading into fertile soil
Nature retelling her tale.
In one autumn leaf
Friends of a feather
Leaves to a tree
Gather as a whole
Clinging to hold on
Each day upon another
In separate ways gone
But strangers again, never.
Little Things and Lemonade
Someone once said, “Don’t sweat the little stuff, and believe me, it’s all little stuff.” This goes back to the idea of personal perspective. The pessimist tends to find a raindrop in a partly cloudy sky while an optimist finds a rainbow. One sees sour grapes and the other makes lemonade. Perhaps a better way to put it would be the concept of hope. I read from the Sacred Space Internet prayer site this morning that “hope that sees for itself is not hope, but hope that sees what it cannot see waits with endurance.” It all comes down to the details in life that seemingly make no difference unless we can view the bigger picture.
The scripture quote from today is from Luke chapter 13. Jesus asks the crowd what the kingdom of heaven is like and he proceeds to answer his own question with images people of his time could identify with. What he clearly alludes to is the idea of faith in the little things and hope in the bigger things to come. When we take the time to focus on those seemingly insignificant details in life then we can see how they lead us to the end result. Jesus uses the mustard seed to describe the notion that even the smallest belief can yield something much greater in scope like the bush that grows in the garden from the tiniest seed. He uses the image of yeast being added to three measures of flour to cause the dough to rise. I think we all sometimes fail to see our impact on the lives of others because life is so much larger than the scope of our individual lives. I think voter apathy is a direct example of this notion. Don’t be fooled, we all make a difference!
This past Sunday afternoon gave me a personal perspective on the whole concept. Our Cub Scout pack gathered at the local humane society to tour the facility, donate needed items and to walk some of the dogs being sheltered there. I could not help but be touched by the way families came together and brought a few moments of happiness to animals that had been abandoned, abused or neglected. Clearly there was a “bigger picture” being developed here than met the eye. We talk of compassion, and yet if we are not willing to give it then what is the use? If we do not see the yearning in a child’s eyes to be led and be taught how to live, then what business do we have putting on the impression that we truly want to raise and lead them? I hope that in some small way I have brought those little things to light for you today so that tomorrow brings a brighter view.
Please take a moment to check out this video from the group "The Boy Least Likely To." Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w54RJYpeHVk
The scripture quote from today is from Luke chapter 13. Jesus asks the crowd what the kingdom of heaven is like and he proceeds to answer his own question with images people of his time could identify with. What he clearly alludes to is the idea of faith in the little things and hope in the bigger things to come. When we take the time to focus on those seemingly insignificant details in life then we can see how they lead us to the end result. Jesus uses the mustard seed to describe the notion that even the smallest belief can yield something much greater in scope like the bush that grows in the garden from the tiniest seed. He uses the image of yeast being added to three measures of flour to cause the dough to rise. I think we all sometimes fail to see our impact on the lives of others because life is so much larger than the scope of our individual lives. I think voter apathy is a direct example of this notion. Don’t be fooled, we all make a difference!
This past Sunday afternoon gave me a personal perspective on the whole concept. Our Cub Scout pack gathered at the local humane society to tour the facility, donate needed items and to walk some of the dogs being sheltered there. I could not help but be touched by the way families came together and brought a few moments of happiness to animals that had been abandoned, abused or neglected. Clearly there was a “bigger picture” being developed here than met the eye. We talk of compassion, and yet if we are not willing to give it then what is the use? If we do not see the yearning in a child’s eyes to be led and be taught how to live, then what business do we have putting on the impression that we truly want to raise and lead them? I hope that in some small way I have brought those little things to light for you today so that tomorrow brings a brighter view.
Please take a moment to check out this video from the group "The Boy Least Likely To." Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w54RJYpeHVk
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
A Twinkle in the Eye
Not long ago I met a kindly older gentleman at a scouting event. I first saw him seated at a picnic table some twenty yards away outside the dining hall at Camp Lakota in Defiance, Ohio. He was dressed in a red scout jacket and green scout uniform pants. I don’t know what possessed me at that moment, but something inside prompted me to go over to him and to simply say “hello.” As I introduced myself and shook the man’s hand, a conversation just naturally began between us.
In the space of about five minutes I came to know that this gentleman had been involved in Boy Scouting for sixty four years and that he had helped build the dining hall in which we stood facing. It had been constructed many years earlier and you could tell by the style and color of the dark brown log walls that it had seen many summer campers beneath its rustic roof. I could not stay long and talk, but I knew as he talked that the years had fallen away in the recesses of his mind and a twinkle appeared in his eyes. I’d swear he had shed about forty years and a much younger man stood before me reliving some of the most treasured moments of his life. I thought to myself, “what a blessing to be here today.” Later on I came to find out four generations of scouts in this man’s family, both boy and girl had assembled there to celebrate a special occasion. It really does not matter what the occasion was; what struck me most was that good things do stand the test of time.
Tonight, I sit here reflecting on the things in life that matter most to me and I realize that there is little difference between us; that older gentleman and myself. We have lived a little, learned a great many things and have had the opportunity to pass on those important lessons that life teaches. Being honest, working hard, having faith and being helpful are just a few, but I think living the “Golden Rule” is probably what sums it all up. Bringing a little happiness into the world with a smile and kind word can make even the most experienced set of eyes twinkle with delight. It is a light we all have inside and it shines its most brilliant when we simply pass it on. Good night and God bless.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Behold His face
We all have had and continue to face our share of good and bad days. And depending on your predisposition as an optimist or pessimist; the definition of each varies from person to person. For me, yesterday morning was the start of a bad day. Without going into laborious detail, you could say I was in a state of frustration, hurt and self pity; a good recipe for anger and worse yet, a reason for someone prone to depression to lash out. But that is only half the story.
As the day wore on I kept busy doing household chores as a way to work off the negative energy. By lunch time things were beginning to look a bit brighter and by evening the positive energy of good people doing good things out of the goodness of their hearts overcame the previous tension. I repeat myself to emphasize a word so often used that I think it has become almost a cliche. Anyone can do something positive for whatever reason, but when it comes from a deeper place inside, like the heart, I cannot help but notice my spirit being lifted up. It is truly a gift to see people who give so joyfully in spite of the challenges put before them. Any volunteer who has led a group of first or second grade boys at a Cub Scout den meeting knows full well what I mean.
By eight o’clock I was so full of positive energy that it was hard to curb my enthusiasm and return home where I had been so down earlier in the day. Then, I noticed a small wooden plaque that I had made years earlier just setting on a shelf in the kitchen. It was the face of Jesus as he may have appeared during the crucifixion. The image was burned into the wood to remind me of the sacred fire that burns in us all if we believe in the saving grace of Christ; an image I hold close so as not to forget the sacrifice he made. I even wrote something on the back to personalize the project. It says:
Behold the Savior’s face; scourged
Battered, bruised; blackened by hate
For the ones he loved so dear.
He endured; in spite of betrayal and denial of beloved friends.
Amidst the ignorance and envy of the world he became the ultimate sacrifice.
Upon the altar of disgrace he was nailed and hung for all people to see, but it was for them that he shed his earthly appearance to become the deliverer of God’s grace. He was led the way through his suffering cross to save us all from ourselves.
DAW 10/00
How ironic that it was in October of 2000 that I wrote this; perhaps even on the same day as yesterday! And so, I close with a link to a song that I hope clears the way for you to make the best of your day; however you define it.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Being Here
The late great comedic actor Peter Sellers, who was known for his characters in the “Pink Panther” movies as well as such classics as “Dr. Strangelove”, wanted desperately to be viewed as a serious dramatic artist. Unfortunately, he passed away before he could achieve such acclaim. His last film “Being There” was probably the closest he ever came to his goal. You see, his character, Chance Gardener spent a lifetime of obscurity with little contact with the outside world. He was a simple servant who tended a walled in garden and looked after the house of a rich old man along with a house keeper. When the old man died, Chance was forced out into the world to fend for himself. I think many of us can relate to the first time we left home for the first time, but with a little more preparation than poor Chance Gardener.
I can certainly relate to living in obscurity. I grew up as the fourth of six children in my parent’s home in Northwest Ohio. For a long time I viewed being the “middle child” as a place where very few people noticed me or paid little attention to what I had to say. Often times at family gatherings or holidays I would start to say something only to have someone speak right over me or seemingly straight through me as if I was not even there. As a child I just settled in to this role and probably enabled my family to keep the trend going by my life of blending in to the background.
In the service they taught us how to camouflage ourselves and to practice noise and light discipline at night so the enemy would not detect us. We trained our ears to listen to sounds and to identify them as friendly or foe. This survival mechanism was already a part of my repertoire growing up, but it did little for me when it came to dating or relationships out in the real world. I was accustomed to blending in with the crowd and knew little of how to become noticed when it truly mattered. For this I blamed my upbringing when I failed or became frustrated in social situations.
I allowed this blame game to keep me from becoming the person I was meant to be and have only recently started to realize. It is like pulling the bushel basket off of the light that God gives each of us to light the world. We are given the choice to make a difference or simply settle for the security and warmth that obscurity provides. Becoming a scout leader has certainly given me this opportunity. So, the challenge for each of us today is whether to reach for the rope God offers us from the mountain top or to settle for the lush green valleys of certain despair and excuses for not becoming who we are meant to be. We can choose to live within ourselves or we can choose to be here and make a difference for those who follow in our footsteps. Let us all reach for the top and view the possibilities.
I can certainly relate to living in obscurity. I grew up as the fourth of six children in my parent’s home in Northwest Ohio. For a long time I viewed being the “middle child” as a place where very few people noticed me or paid little attention to what I had to say. Often times at family gatherings or holidays I would start to say something only to have someone speak right over me or seemingly straight through me as if I was not even there. As a child I just settled in to this role and probably enabled my family to keep the trend going by my life of blending in to the background.
In the service they taught us how to camouflage ourselves and to practice noise and light discipline at night so the enemy would not detect us. We trained our ears to listen to sounds and to identify them as friendly or foe. This survival mechanism was already a part of my repertoire growing up, but it did little for me when it came to dating or relationships out in the real world. I was accustomed to blending in with the crowd and knew little of how to become noticed when it truly mattered. For this I blamed my upbringing when I failed or became frustrated in social situations.
I allowed this blame game to keep me from becoming the person I was meant to be and have only recently started to realize. It is like pulling the bushel basket off of the light that God gives each of us to light the world. We are given the choice to make a difference or simply settle for the security and warmth that obscurity provides. Becoming a scout leader has certainly given me this opportunity. So, the challenge for each of us today is whether to reach for the rope God offers us from the mountain top or to settle for the lush green valleys of certain despair and excuses for not becoming who we are meant to be. We can choose to live within ourselves or we can choose to be here and make a difference for those who follow in our footsteps. Let us all reach for the top and view the possibilities.
Friday, September 25, 2009
My Sacred Space for Today
There is a web site run by an Irish order of Catholic religious called Sacred Space. I do not always go there on a daily basis, but I found myself clicking the favorites tab on my browser this morning. Today is my sixteenth wedding anniversary and my wife Joyce is resigning her position at a job she has worked for ten years. Now, this does not seem like a major issue since people change jobs all the time for various reasons. The fact that it is our anniversary and that Joyce is making a lateral move mainly because of the pettiness of coworkers and the dysfunctional work environment in which she has had to contend with the past year or so. The root of my uneasiness comes in light of my own struggles with being unemployed yet deeply blessed by the spirit of volunteerism and the cause of raising children.
And so, today, I am asked to consider where things stand between God and me? Where do I see myself in relation to his example of being non-judgmental? What are the things I am grateful for? Are there things that I regret and need forgiveness for? These weigh heavy on my mind as the autumn breeze blows and the turning of leaves remind me that change is inevitable. As I contemplate these questions, the realization of God’s presence fills me with gratitude for so many incredible realities from this past week.
I am grateful for the heart of volunteers who graciously, and perhaps with some reservation, step forward to be counted among the few who are called “leaders.” I am grateful for the love of parents who know full well that their children require structure and an environment where they can grow to be productive, healthy and responsible human beings. I am grateful for the day with its partly cloudy skies and the rain that must eventually fall, the sun that lights the way and the moon which stands as a reminder of God’s vigilance throughout the night. I am grateful for the reader, like you and the creator of all things upon whose shoulders the fate of our children rests; a God who loves us in spite of ourselves. Amen.
And so, today, I am asked to consider where things stand between God and me? Where do I see myself in relation to his example of being non-judgmental? What are the things I am grateful for? Are there things that I regret and need forgiveness for? These weigh heavy on my mind as the autumn breeze blows and the turning of leaves remind me that change is inevitable. As I contemplate these questions, the realization of God’s presence fills me with gratitude for so many incredible realities from this past week.
I am grateful for the heart of volunteers who graciously, and perhaps with some reservation, step forward to be counted among the few who are called “leaders.” I am grateful for the love of parents who know full well that their children require structure and an environment where they can grow to be productive, healthy and responsible human beings. I am grateful for the day with its partly cloudy skies and the rain that must eventually fall, the sun that lights the way and the moon which stands as a reminder of God’s vigilance throughout the night. I am grateful for the reader, like you and the creator of all things upon whose shoulders the fate of our children rests; a God who loves us in spite of ourselves. Amen.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Truly Blessed
From me to you I would like to share a few thoughts. Many years ago my parents and I were given the choice to become involved in a program that is rich in tradition and history and marked by the character and commitment of caring individuals. Little did I know as a WEBELOS scout how much influence this program would have on my life. You see, I have been blessed to have parents who cared enough to take me to den meetings and supported my journey into adulthood. I don’t think even they realized the impact it would have on their youngest son.
Today, speaking as a parent myself, I want you to know how blessed you all are to still have this program available to your boys. I have seen the ups and downs that life throws our way on more than one occasion, but I can say that I got through the toughest of those times by relying on the values and experiences I gained as a scout. I truly do not know where I would be today had I not been prepared to go out into the world and make the best of what God gave me. Even though there were times when I felt so overwhelmed by the pressures of peers or the demands of work or service to country in the military; scouting was, as it says in scripture, “a lamp unto to my feet and a light unto my path”
And so, as the fog lifts from the dew covered grass of an early September morning, let us consider what path our boys will travel on their own journey through life. Sure, they will accumulate the memories of victory and defeat, the triumphs of accomplishment and the sheer joy of new life coming into the world, but how will they handle the worst of times and put them into perspective with the best? Will they have a trusty moral compass to guide them or will they simply be left to flounder like so many lost souls on the ocean of life? I would like to think that our sons will draw upon the wisdom of the deep and go forth confident and prepared to face whatever challenges come their way. This is why I am truly blessed; to have been a scout and to always be a scout. Amen and God Bless.
Witt
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Looking Back
Time seems to have gone by so quickly these past few months. It seems very little has changed in me lately, but I have seen my boys grow taller and the scope of my life reach out further than I ever imagined as a quiet kid so many years ago. The Lord has been kind and generous indeed. Though I do not always see the wisdom in his ways or the vision he has for me, I know there is a purpose and a path.
Last evening I had the privilege and joy to work with a few new Cub Scouts who recently joined our pack. I remember the last minute preparations as I scrambled to get ready for the meeting. I almost forgot how not long ago my youngest son had been a tiger cub and how much fun it was to be there with him as he began his journey through scouting. Today, I think of the legacy that will be left behind as my son and I will progress into the Boy Scout program in a few months from now. As a Cubmaster, I can only do so much to promote the ideals, means and methods of Cub Scouting, but it will be up to those who follow in my footsteps to keep the program going in our small town. This is my hope and prayer today; that my vision, example and prayers can keep the smiles coming and the young boys advancing down the path of an organization that is so deeply imbedded in my heart. I just hope that the lost ones can be led back to the pack as busy parents and busy kids put scouting aside for other pursuits seemingly more important.
Looking back to this past weekend, I remember watching the news coverage of the funeral of Senator Ted Kennedy. These past forty seven years have been witness to the birth of Camelot, the tragedy of sudden death, war and the triumph of man in space. Still, the perseverance of some has been the down fall of others as barriers have crumbled to dust and memory. But there is much to do and progress to mark as the struggle continues for access to the great accomplishments of mankind. Whether it is adequate health care for everyone, economic freedom or simply the acceptance that all men are crated equal; my hopes lie in the hands of our children. With faith in a kind and forgiving god, let us as leaders, parents and teachers set the example which leads our children with purpose for a better world.
So, where do we go from here? Speeches and rhetoric can only go so far. Might I suggest we take a moment to simply play with our kids and remind ourselves not to get carried away with work or worries about tomorrow; for all we truly have is today. Let us not forget to praise and lead by example as the youth of our past becomes the driving force that challenges us to be good stewards of God’s creation; for life is the most precious gift we have and our children the seeds which grow from our undying devotion. Witt.
Last evening I had the privilege and joy to work with a few new Cub Scouts who recently joined our pack. I remember the last minute preparations as I scrambled to get ready for the meeting. I almost forgot how not long ago my youngest son had been a tiger cub and how much fun it was to be there with him as he began his journey through scouting. Today, I think of the legacy that will be left behind as my son and I will progress into the Boy Scout program in a few months from now. As a Cubmaster, I can only do so much to promote the ideals, means and methods of Cub Scouting, but it will be up to those who follow in my footsteps to keep the program going in our small town. This is my hope and prayer today; that my vision, example and prayers can keep the smiles coming and the young boys advancing down the path of an organization that is so deeply imbedded in my heart. I just hope that the lost ones can be led back to the pack as busy parents and busy kids put scouting aside for other pursuits seemingly more important.
Looking back to this past weekend, I remember watching the news coverage of the funeral of Senator Ted Kennedy. These past forty seven years have been witness to the birth of Camelot, the tragedy of sudden death, war and the triumph of man in space. Still, the perseverance of some has been the down fall of others as barriers have crumbled to dust and memory. But there is much to do and progress to mark as the struggle continues for access to the great accomplishments of mankind. Whether it is adequate health care for everyone, economic freedom or simply the acceptance that all men are crated equal; my hopes lie in the hands of our children. With faith in a kind and forgiving god, let us as leaders, parents and teachers set the example which leads our children with purpose for a better world.
So, where do we go from here? Speeches and rhetoric can only go so far. Might I suggest we take a moment to simply play with our kids and remind ourselves not to get carried away with work or worries about tomorrow; for all we truly have is today. Let us not forget to praise and lead by example as the youth of our past becomes the driving force that challenges us to be good stewards of God’s creation; for life is the most precious gift we have and our children the seeds which grow from our undying devotion. Witt.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
What of Hope?
Elijah sat beside the broom tree and prayed for death as he felt he could take no more. In spite of conquering over four hundred prophets in an act of faith in a God of action; one tiny human female by the name of Jezebel dashed the hopes of a man destined to be one of the greatest prophets of all time. I sometimes feel this way when it seems like I have taken one step forward and two steps back in my life. Just when I think things are starting to get better, another set back crops up. The current state of the economy could be blamed as I am no closer to getting back to work than a month ago. I really wonder if I can trust the example my father set so many years ago when I was a kid. The idea that hard work and sacrifice will always provide a place to live, put food on the table and clothing on your back just does not seem to apply any more. I wonder if anything makes sense when contradiction after contradiction places my family in peril of financial ruin. Is there still hope in another direction?
Today, I start on a new venture of becoming my own boss. School has been put on hold and a home business opportunity waits; but there is apprehension in the air and a hint of buyer’s remorse. I know that these feelings must be squelched if this business is ever going to get off the ground. I guess the idea of including other people in this venture satisfies my desire to be helpful and serve the best interests of family. I know I’ll have to use the knowledge and skills learned over the span of my life to make it work, but I am still afraid of failure. What have I got to lose that is not in peril already? That is indeed the question as I place my trust in the sound of a friendly voice many miles away. What can this be that draws my attention and tempts the gambler inherent in us all?
As I figure it this morning, I have lived and loved and trusted so few outside the confines of my world; it is finally time to take a leap of faith. For a time at least I will have to drown out the tiny voice perched atop my shoulder and go forth into the unknown abyss. God knows I only want what is best for my family and to make a difference in an otherwise downtrodden and seemingly heartless human construct so prevalent today. Lord, in your infinite wisdom and love, have mercy on us all and make hope possible once again. Amen.
Today, I start on a new venture of becoming my own boss. School has been put on hold and a home business opportunity waits; but there is apprehension in the air and a hint of buyer’s remorse. I know that these feelings must be squelched if this business is ever going to get off the ground. I guess the idea of including other people in this venture satisfies my desire to be helpful and serve the best interests of family. I know I’ll have to use the knowledge and skills learned over the span of my life to make it work, but I am still afraid of failure. What have I got to lose that is not in peril already? That is indeed the question as I place my trust in the sound of a friendly voice many miles away. What can this be that draws my attention and tempts the gambler inherent in us all?
As I figure it this morning, I have lived and loved and trusted so few outside the confines of my world; it is finally time to take a leap of faith. For a time at least I will have to drown out the tiny voice perched atop my shoulder and go forth into the unknown abyss. God knows I only want what is best for my family and to make a difference in an otherwise downtrodden and seemingly heartless human construct so prevalent today. Lord, in your infinite wisdom and love, have mercy on us all and make hope possible once again. Amen.
Friday, July 24, 2009
On What Ground Am I?
Today, as I consider plans that have been made for this weekend; the thoughts and words of Ralph Waldo Emerson come to mind. “When a man lives with God, his voice shall be as sweet as the murmur of the brook and the rustle of the corn.” This phrase comes from Emerson’s essay on Self Reliance written around 1841. I cannot help but relate to this as it is late July and the fields of northwest Ohio are green with the stalks of growing corn and low rows of soy beans. The wheat harvest has been gathered in for the most part and the bailing of hay has commenced. There is an anticipation of things to come and the present moment gives way to the lonesome mourning dove perched outside my window. It is the day of my birth and for now the concerns of the world seem a million miles away.
The scripture readings for today concern the Ten Commandments from Exodus and Jesus’ parable of The Sower from Matthew’s gospel. I wonder now on what ground am I? As I lie in bed earlier this morning, the image of a muddy field flashed across my mind and how my life has been much like a long rut stretching out across to the farthest horizon. There are still dreams to fulfill, chores to perform and children to raise. There have been days of great personal challenge, triumph and joy, but there have been moments of much uncertainty, sorrow and pain as well. As I wade deep into the pages that reveal my life history, I am reminded that like some stick in the mud, I have moved little towards the man God has planted in me. In the end, will I be judged for what I have done or what I have failed to do, for words spoken in anger or in actions spent in pure sacrifice for another? My hope is ever in the Lord, but my flesh speaks another tale fraught with weakness for the wonder lust that exists in the world.
As I sped off early this morning to the local BMV to have my driver’s license renewed, I thought how quickly four years had passed and the futility of finding work this past year. At the same time I savored one last kiss and a cool breeze pouring in from outside the car window. I think God would be happy to know I have grown to appreciate these small things and that I have tried my best to maintain a sense of personal integrity, though moments of despair have clouded my sight at times. In any case, I sit here needing and wanting to share my thoughts with you as the day progresses and there are, as Frost wrote, “Miles to go before I sleep.” I think it is fair to say we all progress from waste land to fertile soil on any given day, but the God who loves us will always lead the way if we keep our sights set on our better selves; especially when the world begs us to turn and succumb to its will that can lead us astray. God bless. Witt
Thursday, June 25, 2009
A Life in Contrast
The following is an autobiographical sketch of my life. As I am going back to school to finish my bachelors degree, this is the first assignment. I share this because it is what I enjoy doing; writing. God bless-Witt.
My life began in the summer of 1962 in the Northwest corner of Ohio. The fourth of six children, I grew up with the values of a Christian family, hard work, education and service to community. My father worked long hours in a General Motors steel foundry to support us while my mother spent the earliest years of my childhood as a home maker and day care provider. Later, she would work as a teacher’s aid and elementary school librarian for nearly thirty years. In that time my siblings and I had the advantage and sometimes unfortunate situation of having a parent readily accessible if we needed something or got into trouble at school. I remember having difficulty reading and with mathematics throughout elementary school of which the latter followed me even through my earliest college years.
I would best describe my elementary school experience as both frustrating and tumultuous. The result of a summer birthday and concerns over my maturity level left me with a second year of kindergarten as well as learning to adjust to totally new classmates who seemed much younger at times. There were many clashes on the playground where I remember being singled out by several other boys in my class who proceeded to taunt and physically harass me; a fact which followed me through the sixth grade. Fortunately, unlike some, junior high seemed much kinder and gentler as far as social interaction, but academics still loomed as a topic of contention for me.
Math tutors, athletics and a natural curiosity for the opposite sex proved a normal course of events for me as junior high gave way to high school subjects and social gatherings. Having grown up as a middle child, I was quiet and unassuming which made for awkward moments at school dances; but there was always a basketball game or track meet to take the tension off my slowly developing social sense. As a family, we continued to attend church every Sunday and sit promptly in the first pew as it proved a means for my parents to keep us in line as well as to not give us an excuse for inattention during the sermon.
Faith, though very much a part of my upbringing seemed quite artificial to me growing up. The Catholic Church offered instruction and the implementation of sacramental virtues of which seemed strange to me. I often found God to be a distant observer and I struggled to seek a relationship which applied directly to my life. For this reason I believe I wondered so much as an adolescent, not to mention the awkwardness I felt when it came to girls. In later years I would describe myself as a loner and a kind of chameleon who could adapt or fit in to whatever social group I encountered. You could say I was a follower who went with the tide as far as what I did outside of school. This led to experimentation with alcohol and smoking pot.
Growing up in a very German oriented and agricultural region afforded me many opportunities to experience the acceptance of alcohol as a socially acceptable means of interaction. I remember my first “beer buzz” as I was barely out of junior high school; little did I know then the implications of depending on a chemical substance as a means to feeling comfortable in a peer group. I believe I inherited my maternal grandfather’s love of the outdoors which is why I enjoyed being a Boy Scout; it kept me out of trouble on more than a few occasions, yet allowed for other creative ways in which to get involved in mischief. I recall getting caught streaking through camp with a few troop mates by staff members late at night. A phenomena of the times during the 1970’s and quite out of character for a shy kid like me.
High school graduation day came in May of 1981. I had absolutely no idea where I was headed and got so intoxicated on beer that I passed out in my Dad’s car at a classmate’s home. Not a moment to brag about but a tell-tale truth of things to come later in my life none the less. It seemed I had the choice to follow in my father’s footsteps or strike out on my own in search of an identity. College really did not seem to fit in those days, so at nineteen on July 24th, 1981, I decided to follow my oldest brother who had joined the Army only a few months earlier. It would prove both physically and mentally challenging to a kid like me from Northwest Ohio who had no future of his own at the time.
Six months of regimented life did me a lot of good right out of high school. I had always battled a weight problem growing up so losing forty pounds in Army basic training gave me the confidence to walk tall and feel a sense of accomplishment. Heading to Germany as a yet untried communications specialist seemed the greatest adventure I had ever known. Two years of my life would be spent serving my country and learning about the world. Little did I know how much my past as a loner and follower would shape the events of those early days on my own with Uncle Sam. The “Cold War” still raged in Europe even though people in the states did not seem to care. It was a time of uncertainty yet oddly enough, a time to prove myself as a man; or so I thought. While in the field I was living with purpose and determination, but in garrison I was a binge drinking kid trying to keep pace with a bunch of more experienced thrill seekers bored with Army life.
If a person can change in as little as two years, then I was the “poster boy” for how much. Comparing the two photos I had taken while in Germany shows a kid of barely twenty and another nearly twenty two. A boy and man in contrast best describes the two as the dark shadows under the eyes of the latter attest to the journey to that point. I went home to Ohio for a brief respite and a whole new world that I had not seen while so preoccupied over seas with duty and trying to break the insanity of Army living. The folks threw a homecoming party complete with Polka music and draft beer in a glass boot I had sent home for Christmas the year before. We danced the chicken and celebrated with family and friends of my parents. Afterwards, I visited my old high school the following Monday morning; it felt weird. I even stopped in to see my old senior composition teacher, Miss Doll, whom I never got along with very well, but who got me thinking about becoming a writer. It would take a few more years for this sense to develop, but deep inside I knew I had a voice to share with people if only I could unlock it.
I spent the next eighteen months stationed in Arizona and deployed to places like Honduras and California; talk about a contrast in socio-economic landscape! I went from the lush green countryside of Germany with its guest houses and beer halls to the sage brush mountains and sub tropical plains of Central America to Pismo Beach. There was little time for boredom and thus binge drinking was kept to a minimum. The curiosity of the opposite sex came back to haunt me in the shanty towns of Central America. I think I finally grew up as the circumstances of unbridled sexuality took its toll. Suddenly I realized the consequences of not living according to my moral upbringing. Needless to say, I took my honorable discharge from the Army with pride knowing I had outgrown some of the wonder lust. I actually went home with a plan in mind!
The rest of this story is quite a whirlwind actually. I joined the Ohio Army National Guard, enrolled in college and found my faith. The old academic problems of the past kept creeping up as I took, failed and re-took the required math courses I needed for a bachelors degree in social work. It had come down to that and journalism as I had written for my high school newspaper. I chose social work because I had come back to the Catholic Church and was volunteering as a youth minister. As old habit would have it I dropped out of college having never passed the required math course I needed. Having resigned myself to failure, I took my mother’s advice and went to work at a residential treatment facility for delinquent boys. In the winter of 1992 I met the woman who would become the love of my life and the mother of our two sons. It was like my return to faith and committing to something greater than my own desires had shown me the way to happiness.
The intervening years finally brought about my finishing an Associate of Arts degree and a whole new direction. I ended up following in my father’s footsteps after all and went to work in a factory making more than an entry level social worker. It is funny how economics can influence the best of intentions, but I am finally at the point in my life where I can still see opportunity knocking. I have found that life offers many avenues of approach, trials and opportunities for growth. It is through these that we find purpose and meaningful relationships, faith and love beyond our wildest imaginings. This has been my life in contrast; a journey of happenings beyond and within my control. Life has taught me to endure and endure and endure until a dream finally comes to fruition. And so again, I embark on another journey to see the fruits of labor become a reality. The best is yet to come!
My life began in the summer of 1962 in the Northwest corner of Ohio. The fourth of six children, I grew up with the values of a Christian family, hard work, education and service to community. My father worked long hours in a General Motors steel foundry to support us while my mother spent the earliest years of my childhood as a home maker and day care provider. Later, she would work as a teacher’s aid and elementary school librarian for nearly thirty years. In that time my siblings and I had the advantage and sometimes unfortunate situation of having a parent readily accessible if we needed something or got into trouble at school. I remember having difficulty reading and with mathematics throughout elementary school of which the latter followed me even through my earliest college years.
I would best describe my elementary school experience as both frustrating and tumultuous. The result of a summer birthday and concerns over my maturity level left me with a second year of kindergarten as well as learning to adjust to totally new classmates who seemed much younger at times. There were many clashes on the playground where I remember being singled out by several other boys in my class who proceeded to taunt and physically harass me; a fact which followed me through the sixth grade. Fortunately, unlike some, junior high seemed much kinder and gentler as far as social interaction, but academics still loomed as a topic of contention for me.
Math tutors, athletics and a natural curiosity for the opposite sex proved a normal course of events for me as junior high gave way to high school subjects and social gatherings. Having grown up as a middle child, I was quiet and unassuming which made for awkward moments at school dances; but there was always a basketball game or track meet to take the tension off my slowly developing social sense. As a family, we continued to attend church every Sunday and sit promptly in the first pew as it proved a means for my parents to keep us in line as well as to not give us an excuse for inattention during the sermon.
Faith, though very much a part of my upbringing seemed quite artificial to me growing up. The Catholic Church offered instruction and the implementation of sacramental virtues of which seemed strange to me. I often found God to be a distant observer and I struggled to seek a relationship which applied directly to my life. For this reason I believe I wondered so much as an adolescent, not to mention the awkwardness I felt when it came to girls. In later years I would describe myself as a loner and a kind of chameleon who could adapt or fit in to whatever social group I encountered. You could say I was a follower who went with the tide as far as what I did outside of school. This led to experimentation with alcohol and smoking pot.
Growing up in a very German oriented and agricultural region afforded me many opportunities to experience the acceptance of alcohol as a socially acceptable means of interaction. I remember my first “beer buzz” as I was barely out of junior high school; little did I know then the implications of depending on a chemical substance as a means to feeling comfortable in a peer group. I believe I inherited my maternal grandfather’s love of the outdoors which is why I enjoyed being a Boy Scout; it kept me out of trouble on more than a few occasions, yet allowed for other creative ways in which to get involved in mischief. I recall getting caught streaking through camp with a few troop mates by staff members late at night. A phenomena of the times during the 1970’s and quite out of character for a shy kid like me.
High school graduation day came in May of 1981. I had absolutely no idea where I was headed and got so intoxicated on beer that I passed out in my Dad’s car at a classmate’s home. Not a moment to brag about but a tell-tale truth of things to come later in my life none the less. It seemed I had the choice to follow in my father’s footsteps or strike out on my own in search of an identity. College really did not seem to fit in those days, so at nineteen on July 24th, 1981, I decided to follow my oldest brother who had joined the Army only a few months earlier. It would prove both physically and mentally challenging to a kid like me from Northwest Ohio who had no future of his own at the time.
Six months of regimented life did me a lot of good right out of high school. I had always battled a weight problem growing up so losing forty pounds in Army basic training gave me the confidence to walk tall and feel a sense of accomplishment. Heading to Germany as a yet untried communications specialist seemed the greatest adventure I had ever known. Two years of my life would be spent serving my country and learning about the world. Little did I know how much my past as a loner and follower would shape the events of those early days on my own with Uncle Sam. The “Cold War” still raged in Europe even though people in the states did not seem to care. It was a time of uncertainty yet oddly enough, a time to prove myself as a man; or so I thought. While in the field I was living with purpose and determination, but in garrison I was a binge drinking kid trying to keep pace with a bunch of more experienced thrill seekers bored with Army life.
If a person can change in as little as two years, then I was the “poster boy” for how much. Comparing the two photos I had taken while in Germany shows a kid of barely twenty and another nearly twenty two. A boy and man in contrast best describes the two as the dark shadows under the eyes of the latter attest to the journey to that point. I went home to Ohio for a brief respite and a whole new world that I had not seen while so preoccupied over seas with duty and trying to break the insanity of Army living. The folks threw a homecoming party complete with Polka music and draft beer in a glass boot I had sent home for Christmas the year before. We danced the chicken and celebrated with family and friends of my parents. Afterwards, I visited my old high school the following Monday morning; it felt weird. I even stopped in to see my old senior composition teacher, Miss Doll, whom I never got along with very well, but who got me thinking about becoming a writer. It would take a few more years for this sense to develop, but deep inside I knew I had a voice to share with people if only I could unlock it.
I spent the next eighteen months stationed in Arizona and deployed to places like Honduras and California; talk about a contrast in socio-economic landscape! I went from the lush green countryside of Germany with its guest houses and beer halls to the sage brush mountains and sub tropical plains of Central America to Pismo Beach. There was little time for boredom and thus binge drinking was kept to a minimum. The curiosity of the opposite sex came back to haunt me in the shanty towns of Central America. I think I finally grew up as the circumstances of unbridled sexuality took its toll. Suddenly I realized the consequences of not living according to my moral upbringing. Needless to say, I took my honorable discharge from the Army with pride knowing I had outgrown some of the wonder lust. I actually went home with a plan in mind!
The rest of this story is quite a whirlwind actually. I joined the Ohio Army National Guard, enrolled in college and found my faith. The old academic problems of the past kept creeping up as I took, failed and re-took the required math courses I needed for a bachelors degree in social work. It had come down to that and journalism as I had written for my high school newspaper. I chose social work because I had come back to the Catholic Church and was volunteering as a youth minister. As old habit would have it I dropped out of college having never passed the required math course I needed. Having resigned myself to failure, I took my mother’s advice and went to work at a residential treatment facility for delinquent boys. In the winter of 1992 I met the woman who would become the love of my life and the mother of our two sons. It was like my return to faith and committing to something greater than my own desires had shown me the way to happiness.
The intervening years finally brought about my finishing an Associate of Arts degree and a whole new direction. I ended up following in my father’s footsteps after all and went to work in a factory making more than an entry level social worker. It is funny how economics can influence the best of intentions, but I am finally at the point in my life where I can still see opportunity knocking. I have found that life offers many avenues of approach, trials and opportunities for growth. It is through these that we find purpose and meaningful relationships, faith and love beyond our wildest imaginings. This has been my life in contrast; a journey of happenings beyond and within my control. Life has taught me to endure and endure and endure until a dream finally comes to fruition. And so again, I embark on another journey to see the fruits of labor become a reality. The best is yet to come!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Life's Big Adventure
Over this past weekend I had the pleasure of seeing the new animated movie “Up.” I can tell you it has something for every one of all ages. Now, I’m prone to be on the sentimental side so there were a few scenes that pulled a heart string or two; pardon the pun and dare I say made my eyes well up. I guess if my two boys had not been there it may have hit me a little differently, but I could not help thinking of my grandparents who lived down the street from us when I was growing up and the times I spent as a Boy Scout.
It’s funny how all of my current concerns about paying bills and paying for college just seemed to melt away as I realized that life really is a series of adventures we cannot afford to miss out on. The more we worry about what lies in the future, the more we miss in the present. It’s like going to church and falling asleep during the sermon; the details are what count, not how soon we can get home to watch the game on Sunday afternoon.
My challenge for today is to re-examine the plans I made years ago and to start living now as opposed to setting aside blank pages in a scrapbook entitled “Stuff I’m Going to Do.” Life is an adventure every day if we look at it that way instead of seeing it as a means to an end. “No regrets”, I say should be the order of the day instead of “I wish I had done that when I had the time.” We can still have fun and be aware that life deals out good and bad times just like there will be trusting friendships and people who do not live up to our expectations. The adventure lives in our memories, takes place each and every moment we live and promises to take us to new places tomorrow if we decide to make it that way.
May the good Lord provide a sturdy wind at your back, a sail to catch it and a horizon filled with all that life has to offer. May your hopes and dreams be like bunches of balloons holding you aloft on clear and sunny skies and may he keep you safe and warm in a place you always know as home no matter where you go. May you steer clear of harms way and endure when there is no clearer path to sail. Judge not the ones you love so dear or the stranger, who crosses your path, but be aware that trouble will find you no matter how hard you try. Trust in the power of friendship and the hope that one day you will find the greatest joy beyond the limits of your imagination. Go forth then and live the great adventure with a song in your heart, a smile on your face and a story to tell those willing to listen. Amen.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Let the Summer Fun Begin
It's finally the last day of school for my boys so I thought I'd have a little fun. I've been filling out paperwork all week to go back to school myself so don't take my words too seriously. The following was just an exercise in trying to write lyrics for a song. No one has to take them serious, but sometimes there are those people who you would rather not listen to, especially if they like to use you as an ear to gnaw on. Life is too short to find fault everywhere you look. Like the Billy Joel song says, "So we can all enjoy the weekend for a change." (or words to that affect). Here comes the disclaimer: Please take into account the nature of the following as it pertains to no certain individuals either living or dead. It is intended for the soul purpose of entertaining the reader. Here's to all you psych majors out there!
All in Your Head
Every time I hear you complain
About the things in your brain
It’s all just words to me
And it drives me crazy
Knowing the truth
You’re so uncouth
Dragging me down
Why are you so lazy?
I have to wonder
My big blunder
Was listening to you
It’s all about you
In the middle of the night
I’m the only one in sight
But I think it’s
All in your head.
All in your head
Life’s so compelling
Why are you yelling?
About nothing at all
You’re driving me insane.
You got no cause for worry
Being in such a hurry
Just makes you a pain
In a place I’d rather not mention
Putting me in your shoes
I’d surely lose
So get away from me
Before it’s too late.
The world’s not so bad
Making you sad
Psychological mumbo jumbo
Is killing you
Calling your shrink
All that stuff in your sink
What good does it do?
When it’s all in your head.
All in your head
Life’s so compelling
Why are yelling?
About nothing at all
You’re driving me insane.
Now take this as a lesson
Why am I messin’
Saying anything at all
To a nut case like you
Take it all in stride
Have some pride
And chill for a while
It’s all in your head.
That’s right!
All in Your Head
Every time I hear you complain
About the things in your brain
It’s all just words to me
And it drives me crazy
Knowing the truth
You’re so uncouth
Dragging me down
Why are you so lazy?
I have to wonder
My big blunder
Was listening to you
It’s all about you
In the middle of the night
I’m the only one in sight
But I think it’s
All in your head.
All in your head
Life’s so compelling
Why are you yelling?
About nothing at all
You’re driving me insane.
You got no cause for worry
Being in such a hurry
Just makes you a pain
In a place I’d rather not mention
Putting me in your shoes
I’d surely lose
So get away from me
Before it’s too late.
The world’s not so bad
Making you sad
Psychological mumbo jumbo
Is killing you
Calling your shrink
All that stuff in your sink
What good does it do?
When it’s all in your head.
All in your head
Life’s so compelling
Why are yelling?
About nothing at all
You’re driving me insane.
Now take this as a lesson
Why am I messin’
Saying anything at all
To a nut case like you
Take it all in stride
Have some pride
And chill for a while
It’s all in your head.
That’s right!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
A Core of hope
I don’t have to remind people how tough things are right now. The economy reminds us every day how our savings dwindle and our pay checks shrivel as for many a forty hour work week has become thirty two or less. For me, like the other 16 plus percent of unemployed workers in my county, opportunities are few and far between as it takes more and more effort week to week just to keep looking. I have come to the conclusion that marketability is the key to opportunity and that is why I have decided to go back to school in search of the degree that has long eluded, tormented and tugged at my brain for nearly fifteen years. What has kept me going all this time is something I like to call ‘A core of hope.”
Not long ago I met with my spiritual director and discussed what hope feels like to me. The image I had is that of gold tested in fire. In 1 Peter: 3-9, this image came to life as she read the passage from the Bible. Deep inside I felt my life story spilling out from within like the tapping of a spiritual reserve I always knew was there but was unable to draw fully from. I have lacked the resolve on many occasions to realize that trials and sufferings are for purifying and refining my purpose in life and not purely for some demonic pleasure bent on tripping me up at every turn on the path. It is hard to describe, but I envision a block of ice slowly melting in the hot sun; the tears of a lifetime of self loathing and failure washing down into a great basin of despair and leaving behind a facade of vulnerability men do not like to talk about. It leaves us open to the fact that we are human and oh so fragile.
I often wonder what would have happened if I had not had to endure the trials in my life that have led me here today. Perhaps if I had overcome my in-most demons way back when then I would be far better off today both financially and spiritually. I know from experience that things don’t always go as planned, and in fact we rarely get to have it both ways. Funny how life works, struggles come and go but do not bare fruit until we are capable of dealing with them. It is like trying to plant a garden without any tools; until we have acquired them the job becomes an exercise in futility. I guess I have had to acquire the tools necessary through life experience rather than by completing a bachelor’s degree and going to work in a profession.
What I know today is reflected in the Harry Potter books where professor Dumbledore counsels Harry with the catch words “eternal vigilance” for there is a dark lord in all of us just waiting to reveal himself when we least expect it. It is our core of hope that keeps us on the straight and narrow path and teaches the lesson of suffering as a way to salvation. Just as a wound bleeds, so the pain warns us of the threat of further injury if we do not bind it up.
“In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith- being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire- may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” 1 PET: 3-9 NAB.
Not long ago I met with my spiritual director and discussed what hope feels like to me. The image I had is that of gold tested in fire. In 1 Peter: 3-9, this image came to life as she read the passage from the Bible. Deep inside I felt my life story spilling out from within like the tapping of a spiritual reserve I always knew was there but was unable to draw fully from. I have lacked the resolve on many occasions to realize that trials and sufferings are for purifying and refining my purpose in life and not purely for some demonic pleasure bent on tripping me up at every turn on the path. It is hard to describe, but I envision a block of ice slowly melting in the hot sun; the tears of a lifetime of self loathing and failure washing down into a great basin of despair and leaving behind a facade of vulnerability men do not like to talk about. It leaves us open to the fact that we are human and oh so fragile.
I often wonder what would have happened if I had not had to endure the trials in my life that have led me here today. Perhaps if I had overcome my in-most demons way back when then I would be far better off today both financially and spiritually. I know from experience that things don’t always go as planned, and in fact we rarely get to have it both ways. Funny how life works, struggles come and go but do not bare fruit until we are capable of dealing with them. It is like trying to plant a garden without any tools; until we have acquired them the job becomes an exercise in futility. I guess I have had to acquire the tools necessary through life experience rather than by completing a bachelor’s degree and going to work in a profession.
What I know today is reflected in the Harry Potter books where professor Dumbledore counsels Harry with the catch words “eternal vigilance” for there is a dark lord in all of us just waiting to reveal himself when we least expect it. It is our core of hope that keeps us on the straight and narrow path and teaches the lesson of suffering as a way to salvation. Just as a wound bleeds, so the pain warns us of the threat of further injury if we do not bind it up.
“In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith- being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire- may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” 1 PET: 3-9 NAB.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Life's Little Ironies
Old Scouters Never Die
Tune and lyrics: based on the old army song;
“Old Soldiers Never Die”- Unknown
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQLd18y0X70
Old Scouters never die
They just get carried away.
There is a cooking fire, not far away
Where we get dutch oven fare, three times a day
Beefsteak they never see, hidden without lock or key
And we just get carried away.
Old scouters never die
Never die, never die
Old scouters never die
They just get carried away.
Cub Scouts they love to cheer, most every day
Boy Scouts they love to hike, that’s what they say
Scout masters get a thrill; lead their boys up the hill
So we must get our thrills until they carry us away.
Baden Powell, what would he say?
New Eagle Scouts every day
When the dusty trail comes to an end
They’ll just fly us away.
Old scouters never die
Never die, never die
Old scouters never die
They just carry them away.
I remember watching the Film "MacArthur" with Gregory Peck some years ago and reading the book "Reminiscences" the autobiography of General Douglas MacArthur. There is a line from the book that quotes an old barracks ballad from WWI; "Old Soldiers never die, they just fade away". As you already know, I adapted the lyrics to fit in with something I really enjoy doing; being involved with scouting.
The funny thing is I found the song on youtube a while ago and tagged the link to my blog profile. Last night I was feeling a little down on myself and deleted most of my profile and edited the section on "about yourself". I typed in; I'm a nobody and in the interests section I put down that I had none that anyone would care to hear about. Yeah, I know, self pity is like buyer's remorse; once you perceive to have done something seemingly stupid or not, the guilt takes over and you kick yourself a few times. God knows it is something I have gotten good at over the years and it certainly does not help when you are unemployed and feeling lost in the world. I cannot imagine how Douglas MacArthur could have felt like he was fading away when he quoted the song in his farewell address at West Point. Even after his colorful and illustrious larger than life career, he seems to have felt like he was fading away. Maybe the image of ourselves is the last thing to go as age gets the better of us.
I watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" tonight and the same theme seemed to pop out from the screen as the final credits rolled down my TV screen. Whether growing older or getting younger, we still face our own mortality. While growing older presents all the deteriorating side affects of life, I think Benjamin losing his mind and then finding one tiny piece of recognition in the end so ironic. Even though he could not express his fear or loss of a lifetime of memories, he grew old and died like Elizabeth did with few differences and as many regrets. Just goes to show how life is full of little ironies.
Tune and lyrics: based on the old army song;
“Old Soldiers Never Die”- Unknown
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQLd18y0X70
Old Scouters never die
They just get carried away.
There is a cooking fire, not far away
Where we get dutch oven fare, three times a day
Beefsteak they never see, hidden without lock or key
And we just get carried away.
Old scouters never die
Never die, never die
Old scouters never die
They just get carried away.
Cub Scouts they love to cheer, most every day
Boy Scouts they love to hike, that’s what they say
Scout masters get a thrill; lead their boys up the hill
So we must get our thrills until they carry us away.
Baden Powell, what would he say?
New Eagle Scouts every day
When the dusty trail comes to an end
They’ll just fly us away.
Old scouters never die
Never die, never die
Old scouters never die
They just carry them away.
I remember watching the Film "MacArthur" with Gregory Peck some years ago and reading the book "Reminiscences" the autobiography of General Douglas MacArthur. There is a line from the book that quotes an old barracks ballad from WWI; "Old Soldiers never die, they just fade away". As you already know, I adapted the lyrics to fit in with something I really enjoy doing; being involved with scouting.
The funny thing is I found the song on youtube a while ago and tagged the link to my blog profile. Last night I was feeling a little down on myself and deleted most of my profile and edited the section on "about yourself". I typed in; I'm a nobody and in the interests section I put down that I had none that anyone would care to hear about. Yeah, I know, self pity is like buyer's remorse; once you perceive to have done something seemingly stupid or not, the guilt takes over and you kick yourself a few times. God knows it is something I have gotten good at over the years and it certainly does not help when you are unemployed and feeling lost in the world. I cannot imagine how Douglas MacArthur could have felt like he was fading away when he quoted the song in his farewell address at West Point. Even after his colorful and illustrious larger than life career, he seems to have felt like he was fading away. Maybe the image of ourselves is the last thing to go as age gets the better of us.
I watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" tonight and the same theme seemed to pop out from the screen as the final credits rolled down my TV screen. Whether growing older or getting younger, we still face our own mortality. While growing older presents all the deteriorating side affects of life, I think Benjamin losing his mind and then finding one tiny piece of recognition in the end so ironic. Even though he could not express his fear or loss of a lifetime of memories, he grew old and died like Elizabeth did with few differences and as many regrets. Just goes to show how life is full of little ironies.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Ravens Gather
He lies beside a marbled edifice
In deepest repose
Slumbering
Hand, stilled yet ready
As if transfixed by his journey
Once clinging to a staff of life
Now captured in stone.
Which brought him home to immortality?
Frailty of man or sinner’s remorse
While ravens gather
To ravage sight and bone
And scatter ash before the altar
An unknown.
Pilgrim, whose earthly flesh
Gives way to mortal means
By Christ’s cross is saved
To roam the earth no more
Reclines before the tomb’s facade
And speaks no more
A man in need, alone.
A tribute to Felix-Joseph Barrias’ painting:
“Death of a Pilgrim”
The Toledo Museum of Art
Toledo, Ohio 5/13/09
Yesterday I had the opportunity to go along with my son Aaron’s sixth grade class to the Toledo Museum of Art. The assignment for the class was to pick out at least four pieces of art they liked, record the details of what, where, why and make a sketch. I found this to be a particular challenge to myself as I was responsible for chaperoning my son and two of his classmates. A fourth student was absent so I was able to use the extra assignment sheet for my own purposes.
Indeed, it did not take long for me to find a particularly imposing sculpture from Japan that captured my fancy. It was a fierce looking warrior at least eight feet in height and standing poised at the entrance way of an exhibition room. The description of the piece noted the title, “Rishamonten” and that it was missing a spear in the raised right hand and a miniature pagoda in the upturned left. The eyes were fixed in an evil “V” and the mouth set in an angry grin with legs, feet and torso arranged in a manner suggesting a fluid movement like a martial arts “kata”. I can tell you it was hard to miss which is why I am certain it was so strategically placed in the museum.
Further along, I noticed an oil painting by Felix-Joseph Barrias titled: “Death of a Pilgrim”. The first thing I noted was how two ravens stood out in the forefront with two leafless trees and several more birds in flight circling overhead. To the lower left was a structure of stone that resembled a temple or mausoleum. Lower still laid the upper portion of a man whose body was mostly obscured by a stone entrance way. His head was back and one forearm was raised at an angle with its hand limp suggesting he had died in a rather dramatic pose. A walking staff with a gold crucifix at the top leaned at a right angle and leather like pouch lay in the background on the far entrance stone. The scene suggested the end of a journey where the pilgrim had reached a point where he could go on no further and had laid down to rest. It is a scene that begs attention to detail as you might miss the image of the pilgrim all together.
I could not help picturing this scene in my mind and how it reflects life’s journey. Sure, I could have just briefly scanned the painting and moved on, but it drew me in much differently than the warrior in the next room. There was something that said “look a little closer” and it spoke to me. There was a poem here that was leaping from the canvas and I took a few notes as the feelings and words fell over me like a gentle wave of water. Now that you have read the poem and read the story behind it, take a few moments to breath deeply and ponder the image of your life as that of a pilgrim. We all know we are on a journey and that it will end some day, but where do we want it to end? Speaking for myself, I would like to think that I would be found still poised and ready to continue on despite the hardships I found along the way and with the cross of Jesus still in sight. In this painting I am reminded of my own mortality and the fact that faith is what drives me on and will bring me home to the place God has prepared; his mansion in heaven.
In deepest repose
Slumbering
Hand, stilled yet ready
As if transfixed by his journey
Once clinging to a staff of life
Now captured in stone.
Which brought him home to immortality?
Frailty of man or sinner’s remorse
While ravens gather
To ravage sight and bone
And scatter ash before the altar
An unknown.
Pilgrim, whose earthly flesh
Gives way to mortal means
By Christ’s cross is saved
To roam the earth no more
Reclines before the tomb’s facade
And speaks no more
A man in need, alone.
A tribute to Felix-Joseph Barrias’ painting:
“Death of a Pilgrim”
The Toledo Museum of Art
Toledo, Ohio 5/13/09
Yesterday I had the opportunity to go along with my son Aaron’s sixth grade class to the Toledo Museum of Art. The assignment for the class was to pick out at least four pieces of art they liked, record the details of what, where, why and make a sketch. I found this to be a particular challenge to myself as I was responsible for chaperoning my son and two of his classmates. A fourth student was absent so I was able to use the extra assignment sheet for my own purposes.
Indeed, it did not take long for me to find a particularly imposing sculpture from Japan that captured my fancy. It was a fierce looking warrior at least eight feet in height and standing poised at the entrance way of an exhibition room. The description of the piece noted the title, “Rishamonten” and that it was missing a spear in the raised right hand and a miniature pagoda in the upturned left. The eyes were fixed in an evil “V” and the mouth set in an angry grin with legs, feet and torso arranged in a manner suggesting a fluid movement like a martial arts “kata”. I can tell you it was hard to miss which is why I am certain it was so strategically placed in the museum.
Further along, I noticed an oil painting by Felix-Joseph Barrias titled: “Death of a Pilgrim”. The first thing I noted was how two ravens stood out in the forefront with two leafless trees and several more birds in flight circling overhead. To the lower left was a structure of stone that resembled a temple or mausoleum. Lower still laid the upper portion of a man whose body was mostly obscured by a stone entrance way. His head was back and one forearm was raised at an angle with its hand limp suggesting he had died in a rather dramatic pose. A walking staff with a gold crucifix at the top leaned at a right angle and leather like pouch lay in the background on the far entrance stone. The scene suggested the end of a journey where the pilgrim had reached a point where he could go on no further and had laid down to rest. It is a scene that begs attention to detail as you might miss the image of the pilgrim all together.
I could not help picturing this scene in my mind and how it reflects life’s journey. Sure, I could have just briefly scanned the painting and moved on, but it drew me in much differently than the warrior in the next room. There was something that said “look a little closer” and it spoke to me. There was a poem here that was leaping from the canvas and I took a few notes as the feelings and words fell over me like a gentle wave of water. Now that you have read the poem and read the story behind it, take a few moments to breath deeply and ponder the image of your life as that of a pilgrim. We all know we are on a journey and that it will end some day, but where do we want it to end? Speaking for myself, I would like to think that I would be found still poised and ready to continue on despite the hardships I found along the way and with the cross of Jesus still in sight. In this painting I am reminded of my own mortality and the fact that faith is what drives me on and will bring me home to the place God has prepared; his mansion in heaven.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
The Greatest Gift
I have spent considerable time lately thinking about the state of things in the world. It is a kind of journey that began right here in this small town and continues outward. I try so hard not to worry about my own family’s situation; the bills that need paid and the monthly calls from banks and credit card companies wondering why their money is late. All I can say over the phone is “when I have the money, you’ll get yours.” But that does nothing to stop the late fees from accumulating and the debt from piling ever higher. Jobs are scarce and hopes are high that faith will get us through another tough time. It brings me to the brink of screaming sometimes but I cannot let it keep me from the greatest gift of all.
We hear a lot these days in church about giving of our time, talent and treasure in service to others who need ministered to. They may be homeless, hungry or home bound; hopeless, lost or simply in need of a hand to hold on to. For me, in spite of personal struggles, there is a profound need to be useful in a way that mere compensation just does not apply. It goes beyond the self absorbed and secular nature of modern day society. It calls from within to serve. When I can get beyond myself there is a freedom no desire can subdue or worry condemn; it is in knowing a difference has been made despite the cruel conditions of a harsh economic environment or pull of self preservation. And so I say it is not in serving the needs of structure or property, institutions or man made devices that I serve; it is God alone.
And so I pray: Lord, do not let our hearts be troubled. Whatever it is that keeps us from knowing, loving and serving you be plucked from our minds and replaced with the spirit of love for one another. Extinguish the fires of hatred in our enemies, heal the hurts of injustice done by governments or man made policies and let all those who are able serve the needs of their brother and sister. Bring us together by the light of truth that we are all your children; frail, flawed and in need of your presence to show the way home to you. Make the gift of service to one another outweigh any burden that hinders your love from shining through the darkness.
In the end, what will be the legacy of human kind? What great monuments to sacrifice through war and tragedy will be built by future generations? My hope is that the gifts we share today in our giving will far outshine the ill conceived plans of selfish men to oppress and harm the innocent. May the good that we do and the time that we have be a testament to the glory of our creator in heaven. Let the greatest gift of all, joyful service, be our banner as we march onward to victory over death. Amen.
We hear a lot these days in church about giving of our time, talent and treasure in service to others who need ministered to. They may be homeless, hungry or home bound; hopeless, lost or simply in need of a hand to hold on to. For me, in spite of personal struggles, there is a profound need to be useful in a way that mere compensation just does not apply. It goes beyond the self absorbed and secular nature of modern day society. It calls from within to serve. When I can get beyond myself there is a freedom no desire can subdue or worry condemn; it is in knowing a difference has been made despite the cruel conditions of a harsh economic environment or pull of self preservation. And so I say it is not in serving the needs of structure or property, institutions or man made devices that I serve; it is God alone.
And so I pray: Lord, do not let our hearts be troubled. Whatever it is that keeps us from knowing, loving and serving you be plucked from our minds and replaced with the spirit of love for one another. Extinguish the fires of hatred in our enemies, heal the hurts of injustice done by governments or man made policies and let all those who are able serve the needs of their brother and sister. Bring us together by the light of truth that we are all your children; frail, flawed and in need of your presence to show the way home to you. Make the gift of service to one another outweigh any burden that hinders your love from shining through the darkness.
In the end, what will be the legacy of human kind? What great monuments to sacrifice through war and tragedy will be built by future generations? My hope is that the gifts we share today in our giving will far outshine the ill conceived plans of selfish men to oppress and harm the innocent. May the good that we do and the time that we have be a testament to the glory of our creator in heaven. Let the greatest gift of all, joyful service, be our banner as we march onward to victory over death. Amen.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Early to Rise
I remember those first days in Army basic training oh so clearly. The morning sounds of drill sergeants coming down the hallway of our barracks yelling and carrying on about getting out to first formation still fill my ears. As time went on I would wake up a few minutes early and be ready for the flash of fluorescent lights and clanging trash cans. But there were mornings when I stood out in first squad of third platoon, A company, fourth battalion, third training brigade with eyes closed; hoping to catch a few more precious moments of sleep before calisthenics and two mile run. I did not realize then how much the experience would influence my life down the road. I can now say I know the meaning of the phrase “early to rise…”
A few days ago my spiritual director challenged me to see myself as the son of a loving Father God. This awakening acknowledgement that I was his son, loved and cared for just as Christ Jesus stirred in me like a clanging trash can or drill sergeant’s voice in an early Missouri morning. Stunned, I sat emotionless and quiet as a deer caught in headlights. Then, I heard a voice say again, “you are that son.” Imagine for a moment that you are his beloved son or daughter. Does it ring true or is there a sense of denial echoing somewhere in the past? Is there a painful experience gnawing at you like a child’s crude remark or a parent’s booming voice causing you to shrink into seeming oblivion? Let it go and rest assured he knows your pain just like he accepted the nails and scourging of his passion and death on the cross.
You do not have to be a soldier to realize at one point in your life that in order to be a responsible adult, a tearing down and building up is what you need. I sight my own experience now because it was brought back to me by the soft and caring voice of someone who knew what I needed to hear. I sit here today wondering how the bills are going to get paid or when a new job will come along. It is the unknowing of uncertain times that burdens me, but I cannot let this down turn keep me from realizing I have a purpose and meaning to fulfill in this world. Yes, I have two sons who depend on me and a wife who needs my support now more than ever, but there is another calling. I must be ready to answer it at any hour of the day or night. The father never reveals his purpose too soon, for he knows best our hearts and when he needs us most. We must pray unceasing and allow that purpose to arise in us just as the rising sun greets the dawn. So, early to bed, early to rise really does make us healthy, wealthy and wise. Witt.
A few days ago my spiritual director challenged me to see myself as the son of a loving Father God. This awakening acknowledgement that I was his son, loved and cared for just as Christ Jesus stirred in me like a clanging trash can or drill sergeant’s voice in an early Missouri morning. Stunned, I sat emotionless and quiet as a deer caught in headlights. Then, I heard a voice say again, “you are that son.” Imagine for a moment that you are his beloved son or daughter. Does it ring true or is there a sense of denial echoing somewhere in the past? Is there a painful experience gnawing at you like a child’s crude remark or a parent’s booming voice causing you to shrink into seeming oblivion? Let it go and rest assured he knows your pain just like he accepted the nails and scourging of his passion and death on the cross.
You do not have to be a soldier to realize at one point in your life that in order to be a responsible adult, a tearing down and building up is what you need. I sight my own experience now because it was brought back to me by the soft and caring voice of someone who knew what I needed to hear. I sit here today wondering how the bills are going to get paid or when a new job will come along. It is the unknowing of uncertain times that burdens me, but I cannot let this down turn keep me from realizing I have a purpose and meaning to fulfill in this world. Yes, I have two sons who depend on me and a wife who needs my support now more than ever, but there is another calling. I must be ready to answer it at any hour of the day or night. The father never reveals his purpose too soon, for he knows best our hearts and when he needs us most. We must pray unceasing and allow that purpose to arise in us just as the rising sun greets the dawn. So, early to bed, early to rise really does make us healthy, wealthy and wise. Witt.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
In the Market Place of Prayer
photos: David & Martha Dearinger 2007.
These photos were taken in Wurzburg Germany in 2007. I was stationed there between 1982-1984. I found this web album by David and Martha Dearinger; a couple who had been stationed at the same military installation as I was only a few years earlier. These images bring back memories. If you would like to see more pictures of this beautiful Bavarian city, here is the link: http://wurzburg-photos.com/
I walk on cobble stone
Seemingly alone
Unlike the smooth and level space of home
Each step imperiled with weather or slope
Carried by hope
Sometimes slick with rain or steep terrain
As I approach the castle keep
Ready to leap
Where vendors display
A whole array
Farm fresh and floral spray
Gathered from a hillside
Or field below the meadow
I feel the yearning as a pull
Upon a heart string offered
In the market place of prayer.
Seemingly alone
Unlike the smooth and level space of home
Each step imperiled with weather or slope
Carried by hope
Sometimes slick with rain or steep terrain
As I approach the castle keep
Ready to leap
Where vendors display
A whole array
Farm fresh and floral spray
Gathered from a hillside
Or field below the meadow
I feel the yearning as a pull
Upon a heart string offered
In the market place of prayer.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Always a Sower
There is something about spring that inspires in me a sense of excitement; a feeling of being called outdoors to experience a rebirth in a world that has been held dormant in snow and ice over the long winter months. Perhaps it is the immigrant farmer ancestry in my blood that calls me to become a sower once more. I think this is precisely why Easter comes around every year at this time. How appropriately that God and the church work in harmony to teach us about our faith and the good works we are called to perform each day of our lives.Any life long farmer will tell you that it is more than just planting seeds in the ground and then sitting back to watch what comes up; it is about cultivating, fertilizing and being mindful of what is occurring during the growing process that can make or break a profitable harvest. There are times when we have to adjust how much effort we put into the crop and when we can rest easy for a while as the rain and summer sun work their wonders. Rest assured, there is more behind this natural process than what ends up on the kitchen table. Even as the last row of corn or beans is gathered up into storage, we are called to carry on the process in our hearts and in our communities. Though there may be snow on the rooftop and ice on the pond; we must carry on with each other what Christ instilled in us with his teaching and death on the cross. We come to know the pains and suffering of life as well as the joy of knowing we are sent to go forth and share the good news as his apostles did. What worry have we “if Christ is for us, who can be against us?” But we also know that despite our efforts, bad times will inevitably come. So, the question arises, “what are we to do?”
Our survival instincts normally kick in about this time and we tend to go with whatever means sustained us in the past. But there will come a time when these tried and true methods fail to satisfy; that is why we need to look somewhere else to get us through. This cannot begin to occur unless we surrender ourselves and allow faith in God to open new avenues of opportunity. Yes, it is good to appreciate the good we were able to do in the past, but in order to survive we must look to the future with new eyes which means we have to let go and let God be our guide.
So, what am I driving at here? Well, to begin with, I believe we need to acknowledge that change is inevitable and that we have to be willing to think differently. After all, we are more than the property we live on or the building we inhabit. Our children are born, grow and learn by our example how to be successful or just plain endure whatever life deals out. We must continue to be sowers no matter how bad things get and do whatever it takes to survive. If that means changing our whole approach, so be it, life will go on and all will stand to gain from the process. Witt.
Friday, April 3, 2009
View from the Rooftop
I recently was given the opportunity to assist my brother in law with his business. He was short handed one day and asked if I could help out; little did I know what this entailed as I drove over to a nearby town where the job site was located. It was a food processing plant that utilized numerous filtration units to cool and circulate clean air throughout the plant. Of course these units were located on the roof and it was my brother in law’s task to change the filters in many of the units; a job some might consider too much of a hassle to mess with as it required climbing up to the rooftop and lugging boxes of replacement filters to several locations. You would have a good understanding of the life of a mountain goat after spending a couple of days of this and I got first hand experience. It did not take long for me to realize how different things look when viewed from a different angle. High above the noise and common place sights gave me a perspective of the world I rarely see and so I feel compelled to share.
Funny, how your thinking can be broadened by a view from the rooftop. For me, it only confirms what I already have been trying to do in my daily life as it pertains to faith and personal integrity. You see, I find it troubling that the world is so caught up in hoarding wealth, power and control over people. It seems like many people just want to get out of life what they can get for themselves and the heck with everybody else. It is so self evident in the labor movement, the so called new “equal rights” agenda and even in our government run amok with wasteful spending of tax payer money. What they fail to see is the ripple effect this attitude will have on future generations and the impact it has on the younger generation of today. When a child is given everything it desires, more than not, all you end up with is a spoiled child demanding more of your time, talent and treasure. What should be the focus is teaching the child over time to be disciplined in fulfilling needs, wants and desires; not in seeing how much can be squeezed out of the patience of a desperate parent.
The rooftop not only gives us a new perspective, but it provides the additional light and fresh air we need to appreciate what God promises every day; a new beginning and a second chance to “get right” with him; to put straight our path and view his creation in a way far from the reaches of selfishness and the need for power. The “big picture” is what God sees and most often what we fail to notice in our own small space upon the ground. And so I challenge anyone who happens by this page today to take a moment and seek the rooftop; to put their trust in faith that God will provide all their earthly needs no matter the course life seems to be leading them to. It is truly amazing what a change in perspective can do once you are willing to put fear aside and just climb to the heights of new life. Witt.
Funny, how your thinking can be broadened by a view from the rooftop. For me, it only confirms what I already have been trying to do in my daily life as it pertains to faith and personal integrity. You see, I find it troubling that the world is so caught up in hoarding wealth, power and control over people. It seems like many people just want to get out of life what they can get for themselves and the heck with everybody else. It is so self evident in the labor movement, the so called new “equal rights” agenda and even in our government run amok with wasteful spending of tax payer money. What they fail to see is the ripple effect this attitude will have on future generations and the impact it has on the younger generation of today. When a child is given everything it desires, more than not, all you end up with is a spoiled child demanding more of your time, talent and treasure. What should be the focus is teaching the child over time to be disciplined in fulfilling needs, wants and desires; not in seeing how much can be squeezed out of the patience of a desperate parent.
The rooftop not only gives us a new perspective, but it provides the additional light and fresh air we need to appreciate what God promises every day; a new beginning and a second chance to “get right” with him; to put straight our path and view his creation in a way far from the reaches of selfishness and the need for power. The “big picture” is what God sees and most often what we fail to notice in our own small space upon the ground. And so I challenge anyone who happens by this page today to take a moment and seek the rooftop; to put their trust in faith that God will provide all their earthly needs no matter the course life seems to be leading them to. It is truly amazing what a change in perspective can do once you are willing to put fear aside and just climb to the heights of new life. Witt.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Peril of Nicodemus
I refer today's little story or poem to the Gospel of John 3:14-21. It is said that Nicodemus was associated with the pharisees in Jerusalem at the time of the Passion. But like Joseph of Arimathea, he was willing to accept the notion that Jesus was indeed the Son of God. In fact, there is reference to a Gospel of Nicodemus or the Acts of Pilate that is not included in the Bible. It is said to include the oldest version of the Veronica story, but that it was written later and has inconsistencies in the writing which suggests several authors. At least that is what I could find out in a quick google search anyway.
Now, to get to my point. It is said that we must turn away from darkness and embrace the light if we are to be found worthy of our reward in heaven. I believe that Nicodemus was willing to accept the light of Christ even though his position and stature disavowed such an idea. This is something we are all called to do; to have faith in something so incredible that we are willing to take a leap beyond our comfort level. To assume that something or someone is out there to catch us in spite of the darkness is a concept most people today would find hard to get a handle on, but we must in order to put aside our sinful past and be fulfilled in a bright new future away from the lures of a secular society. And so, without further explanation, I present the story poem "The Peril of Nicodemus."
Nicodemus is a cat my sister rescued quite a few years ago, in fact, he is at least eighteen years old. He was just a kitten when my sister found him and he has since gone blind. Like all curious felines, Nicodemus wondered out of the house one day and was lost for several hours at best. Now, my big sister is a real Mother Theresa when it comes to stray animals. She cannot resist saving a poor helpless creature along the road or stranded in the yard. I guess you could say she is a Saint Francis of the ASPCA order. So, here goes...
The Peril of Nicodemus
Once, young and agile
Fleet of foot
Always landing so
Orphaned once
Then found
Never to be alone
Amongst the menagerie
Springer, Himalayan
The wild hare
left homeless in the yard.
Then, darkness
Only shadow within
Marking time with other senses
Yet freedom still beckoned
that feline sense of arrogance
Tempting as a kitten
To come out and roam
As the alley cats do
This was the peril of Nicodemus.
A door ajar
seizes opportunity
And thus went Nicodemus
Into a strange new world
Unfamiliar, yet sensing
Smells, sounds so reminiscent
of a time when sight preceded him
A simple length of string entertained
Now, only instinct to guide him
into a cold and formless void.
Yet, she loved him still
Even as the years prolonged her misery
Of knowing her beloved Nicodemus
Would soon succumb to nature’s will
As all our beloved friends will do
But he was special
Her little orphan from the streets
He knew all too well
the meaning of a good meal
A warm place to curl up
in a cruel harsh world
For he was a hardy breed.
And so the hours passed
No sight or sound of him
pawing at the basement door
No purring on the kitchen floor
He was again, alone
Fending in the darkness
Until a friendly hand would find him
And just as fate would have it
Indeed such fortune was apparent
As from out of a cold dark corner
Salvation gathered Nicodemus
And sent him home again.
I'd like to finish this story some time with perhaps a moral or add a little more detail, but for now, it will have to be as is and nothing more. Witt.
Now, to get to my point. It is said that we must turn away from darkness and embrace the light if we are to be found worthy of our reward in heaven. I believe that Nicodemus was willing to accept the light of Christ even though his position and stature disavowed such an idea. This is something we are all called to do; to have faith in something so incredible that we are willing to take a leap beyond our comfort level. To assume that something or someone is out there to catch us in spite of the darkness is a concept most people today would find hard to get a handle on, but we must in order to put aside our sinful past and be fulfilled in a bright new future away from the lures of a secular society. And so, without further explanation, I present the story poem "The Peril of Nicodemus."
Nicodemus is a cat my sister rescued quite a few years ago, in fact, he is at least eighteen years old. He was just a kitten when my sister found him and he has since gone blind. Like all curious felines, Nicodemus wondered out of the house one day and was lost for several hours at best. Now, my big sister is a real Mother Theresa when it comes to stray animals. She cannot resist saving a poor helpless creature along the road or stranded in the yard. I guess you could say she is a Saint Francis of the ASPCA order. So, here goes...
The Peril of Nicodemus
Once, young and agile
Fleet of foot
Always landing so
Orphaned once
Then found
Never to be alone
Amongst the menagerie
Springer, Himalayan
The wild hare
left homeless in the yard.
Then, darkness
Only shadow within
Marking time with other senses
Yet freedom still beckoned
that feline sense of arrogance
Tempting as a kitten
To come out and roam
As the alley cats do
This was the peril of Nicodemus.
A door ajar
seizes opportunity
And thus went Nicodemus
Into a strange new world
Unfamiliar, yet sensing
Smells, sounds so reminiscent
of a time when sight preceded him
A simple length of string entertained
Now, only instinct to guide him
into a cold and formless void.
Yet, she loved him still
Even as the years prolonged her misery
Of knowing her beloved Nicodemus
Would soon succumb to nature’s will
As all our beloved friends will do
But he was special
Her little orphan from the streets
He knew all too well
the meaning of a good meal
A warm place to curl up
in a cruel harsh world
For he was a hardy breed.
And so the hours passed
No sight or sound of him
pawing at the basement door
No purring on the kitchen floor
He was again, alone
Fending in the darkness
Until a friendly hand would find him
And just as fate would have it
Indeed such fortune was apparent
As from out of a cold dark corner
Salvation gathered Nicodemus
And sent him home again.
I'd like to finish this story some time with perhaps a moral or add a little more detail, but for now, it will have to be as is and nothing more. Witt.
Monday, March 16, 2009
A World of Hope...
The following is an article I submitted to a web site called Helium. It is a place to write, critique articles and have your writing rated by other writers. The topic was "How to teach compassion as a way of life for you and your children." In light of this past weekend, it is hoped I have done the subject justice.
Compassion begins with awareness. If you do not take the time to realize that there are others in the world struggling or have it worse than yourself, how can you teach your children to act with compassion? Modeling compassion begins with random acts of kindness. Putting others first in such a way that you put your own needs or desires second is a perfect way to teach your children how to be compassionate persons. Denying the urge to serve one’s self must become a life long habit attainable only through practice. If done enough times, it becomes a part of your life and becomes a part of who you are as a human being.
So we must start with the question; “Who is your model?” Compassion must come from a genuine source like a person who is living or who lived and exemplified the right characteristics. This person clearly sees or saw the unfortunate circumstances of others living in his or her particular time. They were moved and acted upon the need, putting them last in line. Serving others is second nature to the compassionate person; in fact, it is a sense of mission that drives them to it. The mind set is this: “If but one person benefits from my actions, then it was worth the effort.” This is what children need to learn from their parents or guardians. If more people modeled this simple inner dialogue, the world would be a much better place in which to live.
Compassion is empathy, not pity. The idea of walking in another’s shoes for a mile or more can lead us to a place where needs still exist, but suffering is eased. It becomes more about dignity than prosperity, respect than hierarchy and caring than mere responsibility. Governments can do as much or be held to account, but it takes people caring about people to get the message across to future generations. In the final analysis, it comes down to a simple four letter word that has become so misunderstood in our modern world. It really is about love; a word that has meaning in all cultures, all religions and in all societies great and small. It is reflected in the Holy Bible, the Koran and in the teachings of Buddha and in all other great spiritual movements throughout human history.
What would it take for a Muslim to take up the orphan child of a Hindu, or the Christian to care for the needs of a child from China? The answer is, compassion, because it transcends all colors, all religions, creeds and nationalities. It transforms a barren land of hopelessness into a garden of opportunity. It enables people everywhere to see beyond the darkness of prejudice and truly lights up the world. When children can see it occurring right in front of them, then it becomes a reality they will emulate and pass on to future generations. Compassion indeed can change our world. A world of despair becomes a world of hope for all to see.
Compassion begins with awareness. If you do not take the time to realize that there are others in the world struggling or have it worse than yourself, how can you teach your children to act with compassion? Modeling compassion begins with random acts of kindness. Putting others first in such a way that you put your own needs or desires second is a perfect way to teach your children how to be compassionate persons. Denying the urge to serve one’s self must become a life long habit attainable only through practice. If done enough times, it becomes a part of your life and becomes a part of who you are as a human being.
So we must start with the question; “Who is your model?” Compassion must come from a genuine source like a person who is living or who lived and exemplified the right characteristics. This person clearly sees or saw the unfortunate circumstances of others living in his or her particular time. They were moved and acted upon the need, putting them last in line. Serving others is second nature to the compassionate person; in fact, it is a sense of mission that drives them to it. The mind set is this: “If but one person benefits from my actions, then it was worth the effort.” This is what children need to learn from their parents or guardians. If more people modeled this simple inner dialogue, the world would be a much better place in which to live.
Compassion is empathy, not pity. The idea of walking in another’s shoes for a mile or more can lead us to a place where needs still exist, but suffering is eased. It becomes more about dignity than prosperity, respect than hierarchy and caring than mere responsibility. Governments can do as much or be held to account, but it takes people caring about people to get the message across to future generations. In the final analysis, it comes down to a simple four letter word that has become so misunderstood in our modern world. It really is about love; a word that has meaning in all cultures, all religions and in all societies great and small. It is reflected in the Holy Bible, the Koran and in the teachings of Buddha and in all other great spiritual movements throughout human history.
What would it take for a Muslim to take up the orphan child of a Hindu, or the Christian to care for the needs of a child from China? The answer is, compassion, because it transcends all colors, all religions, creeds and nationalities. It transforms a barren land of hopelessness into a garden of opportunity. It enables people everywhere to see beyond the darkness of prejudice and truly lights up the world. When children can see it occurring right in front of them, then it becomes a reality they will emulate and pass on to future generations. Compassion indeed can change our world. A world of despair becomes a world of hope for all to see.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Shedding the Darkness
Like the approaching sunrise of an early Saturday morning, I felt anticipation growing in my heart. And as the first sounds of bird song rose to greet me on my back door step, I felt the promise of spring fill my lungs with a fresh breath of air. Frost covered the wind shield of my car as the engine awoke with the hum of internal combustion and a tell-tale puff of exhaust. A sleepy eyed town had just begun to adjust to the rhythm of another weekend as a lone traffic light flickered green behind me. I would be taking the back roads today.
Through the countryside I flung the tiny aqua green Chevrolet into fifth gear and proceeded towards the county line. The bumps and jolts of salt abuse and plowed over asphalt stood ominous and black as the eastern sky hinted at a glorious glowing dawn. I had hopes of seeing the sunrise above the horizon before reaching my final destination a mere twenty five minutes away. The familiar trip had become a common occurrence, but on Sundays only and long after dawn’s early light. “What lay ahead in the presence of strangers?” I wondered to myself as the radio static compelled me to push the “off” button. It would be a solemn and prayerful last few miles indeed.
What began as a peaceful, slow evolving day became one as fast and furious as a hungry camp fire devouring the dried and dead remnants of a tall oak tree; its leaves long gone and feeding the earth with potential new life. By the end, an experience treasured with the memories of new found friendship and a renewed sense of purpose to “Go, light my world.” Having been served, fed and pampered beyond belief, there was a sense of optimism, unity and love I scarce can describe through mere words. This was the gist of my retreat experience at Saint Mary’s church. One I hope to follow-up on and put into practice in the near future. For the following new found friends I dedicate this page: Valerie, Gilbert, Sandra, Suzie, Joe, April and Sr. Dean. God bless and keep you as you go about shedding the darkness!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Walking Wild in the Fields
This past Sunday I took a long walk in a park near my home. The path I followed was well paved and smooth. The sun shone intermittently through passing grayish winter clouds and the breeze blew in gusts of cold shrill air. I pulled the knit cap down over my ears and resolved to make at least one pass of the trail as it wound its way around the outer rim of the park. My thoughts were a mixture of prayerful intention and philosophical debate over whether or not God had a purpose for me on this day of rest. I cannot remember a specific reply, but I remember thinking that perhaps the message was woven in the images of pine trees, asphalt and tiny blades of grass standing dormant along the path.And then it came to me through the inscription sand blasted into a landscaping stone near a park bench and bird feeder station. “I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey- work of the stars”- Walt Whitman. How insignificant I felt at the beginning of my trek now became oblivious to the fact that even a blade of grass is celebrated by our creator God. That each circuit of the earth brings new sight and greater meaning just blows my mind. And I thought I was living in a fog bank where the way is obscured and tomorrow passes without much meaning. Here, on this rock reminds me to look again and see what I did not see before, that sight is merely subjective unless you look for something else behind the image.
And so I chose to make another round about the path; to see something new the second time through. So, instead of seeing concrete and asphalt, fallen tree limbs and blades of grass peeking through remnants of melting snow, I saw a herd of deer across the road from the park and wild turkeys strutting across a barren farmer’s field. And upon another passing I found empty plastic water bottles and trash left behind to blow aimlessly in the winter breezes. A golf ball lay beside the path also and I picked it up; bouncing it upon the concrete as I walked. There really was more to this time alone than what a mere first glance might employ.
Upon a third passing I came across a gentleman out walking in the opposite direction to myself. He stopped briefly and commented on the numerous deer foraging in the field perhaps less than hundred and fifty yards from where we stood. The turkey, now silhouetted on a gentle rise in the middle of the field looked enormous and out of place. I could not help wondering how they could resist the natural instinct to stay under cover of the woods away from predators. Then, I realized, “they must know they are safe.” What a thought knowing all the cares and concerns I have had over the last few months being laid off from my job. If I could just fathom the watchful eye of God keeping me safe, then I could walk wild in the fields just as the deer and wild turkey were doing across the road. I just had to get off the path for a while and let God show the way. Amen.
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