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.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
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.
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