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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!