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.

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

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.

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.

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

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!

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.