Talk About Confusion!

          Once again, God gifted all my family with a wonderful vacation together this year. Jan and I left on a Thursday in July and travelled to Paducah. We spent the night there with Jenny; then, on Friday she and Micah joined us as we left for Washington, DC. We drove across northern Kentucky and stopped for the night at Lexington, VA. The next morning, together as a group, we hunted out Blair Park (named later after a Supreme Court justice who bought the place), originally named Mountain Plains, and we feel certain we found the correct site this time. It's the home of Michael Marion Woods, the first of our line of the family to come to America. He settled there on the slopes of the Blue Ridge Mountains near Woods Gap in 1734 after a brief stay in PA (left there to remove his family from the gathering Quakers). Later generations moved to TN and then to MO, our line settling finally in Caledonia and the marvellous Belleview Valley.

          Stayed in a resort near Fredericksburg, surrounded by the Battle of the Wilderness. Drove into Washington, DC, each day, parked, and caught the free buses to see all the sights on the Mall. Got to tour Congress, Senate, and White House thanks to our Congressman. Explored all the monuments on the Mall and some of the museums. Got invited to sit second from front row for Marine Corps band and drill team performance at the Lincoln Memorial. Wow!

         Our family vacations have been such a blessing in so many different ways...from Colorado and Rocky Mountain National Park, to Branson, to the Poconos, to Virginia and Washington, DC. The camaraderie, the family fellowship, has been one of God's really nifty gifts to us! And I would add just a few of the many blessings He has allowed Jan and me.

          I can't help but reflect back to my years of teaching high school students and noting all the various family situations my students had---many, maybe half, of those family units were marred somehow, often seriously, Since that time though, I note that the family unit has further disintegrated with kids enduring all kinds of fractures--perhaps, a son living with a stepmom who was married to another man after his father and had children by another man who was his cousin's brother. Talk about confusion. Talk about a lack of grounding!
         How sad that the "traditional" family unit is deteriorating so much. "The share of children living in a two-parent household is at the lowest point in more than half a century: 69% are in this type of family arrangement today, compared with 73% in 2000 and 87% in 1960."  Think about the consequences of this trend. They simply cannot bode well for our society.  But, as I look at individual marriage breakups, I can understand the seeming necessity of the break.
         Love your family members. Spend time with them whenever you can. Talk to each other. Really talk. Respect the needs and wishes of each other even when you disagree.  But, the Holy Spirit must guide your final decisions. God Bless!

and Happily Enjoy My Coffee....

     I've been away from my blog for months. I've been busy, though. Outside work. Woodcrafts. Travel. Family. Faith. Love. Now, with Winter looming (I may buy a treadmill so I can get out of my recliner and walk) perhaps blogging can also fill some of my extra free time.

    For an old man, busy-ness does give one's life some kind of significance. I've at times lately felt a bit irrelevant; I'm truly not as necessary or able as I once was. Other folks close to me have their own lives and priorities and time demands into which I don't fit all that much. The kids are responsible and nearing middle age; the grandchildren are maturing and finding their own ways as well. My experience and advice are truly not as pertinent as possibly they once were.

     Work, school, and church activities are handled well by others now. Major physical activities about the house and yard will soon have to be accomplished by others. Our health--not terribly bad--is placing some limits upon our activity. Life has simply and slowly changed, and I'm trying to adjust. Unfortunately, dreaming and thinking "young" are Romantic and misleading concepts.  
     Forgive me the pun, but I'm realizing that relevance is irrelevant. I feel very good about myself and my life. I feel relaxed (major stress a thing of the past) and at peace with myself. I'm completely aware of my opinions about almost everything and unlikely to change. I believe in Jesus and am looking forward to the glories of Heaven.
     So...as a result of all of this, I intend to get up in the mornings and happily enjoy my coffee and breakfast, putter about delightedly in my woodshop, contentedly watch old TV shows ignoring the news, catch pleasant naps whenever I so choose, and love my family in whatever ways I can find. God's blessings to you!

The Empty Tomb of Jesus

At the empty tomb of Jesus,
such wonders may be found.
If you hear the angel voices,
     ...you may be Heaven bound.
God loves in such mystical ways.

It's a mystery beyond us;
it's so far beyond our minds.
We're confused and lost and lonely;
It's the peace a lost Soul finds.

At the empty tomb of Jesus,
the wonders there astound.
If you hear the angel voices,
     ...you may be Heaven bound.
God loves in such mystical ways.

It's the mystery that saves us,
Gives us life forevermore.
It's the only way to Heaven,
to the golden, happy shore.

At the empty tomb of Jesus,
such a holy, holy ground,
if you hear the angel voices,
     ...you may be Heaven bound.
God loves in such mystical ways.

At the empty tomb of Jesus,
such wonders may be found.
At the empty tomb of Jesus,
the wonders there astound.
At the empty tomb of Jesus,
such a holy, holy ground.

...ah, that empty tomb of Jesus!

How Many of These Have I Lost

         Saw this quote today:  "The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end, that's all there is." The last part of that grabs hold of my head and squeezes till the insides blow out. It scares me so much...for I can feel the beginnings of that Loss,

       I be-bop my way through the days of my retired life sporadically losing things and looking for them. I'll leave my cell phone somewhere and wander endlessly through the house looking for it (volume turned mindlessly down, no need to try to call it). Screwdrivers and other tools are especially great at this hide 'n seek. I'll buy a set of countersinks, get them home and unpack them into a finely labeled container, then forget I've done this---the search in my mind sees them still in the package, so for three days I look right through them without seeing them. This "losing" is a constant in my life and, in its own odd way, brings some stability and interest to a routine-heavy lifestyle. No! that's really just not true. Frustration, physical effort, and loss of very precious time are the true results. Thus, stress---and grouchiness.

         The time and footsteps used would carry me successfully through any number of tasks. But, no---they're just gone. I lose other things as well...the details of even those sweet, I'll-never-forget-that moments in my life. What despair, they are just simply gone...lost...recalled vaguely, in part only, if someone else speaks of them. And I wonder how many of these I have forfeited---completely. I can't look for them since I don't know they've vanished.
          Even driving down the road, at times, I struggle to figure out the shortest or best route to a destination that I've gone to numerous times. Oh, me... this forgetfulness...this lack of remembering...becomes the main stress of my days now, as other worries seem to pale in its wake.  There's no urgent, driving pain in this. Just a numbing gray-ness, to my very core. What happens next? What do I lose next?
          I watch the interactions of friends and family members and wonder...how many similar moments of my earlier being do I simply not recall. My parents and siblings, my kids, Jan?...how many meaningful incidents are blotted from my mind, and as such from my very life? No pangs of known regret of any kind from this---just nothing. An eerie emptiness creeps through my current consciousness, a kind of blank fear...a going-somewhere, but with no real destination, not seeking something because one doesn't know it exists (a truism for all of life?).
          Then, I think---get real, it's not that bad, you're exaggerating the situation. Hmm... Well, maybe. All older people are forgetful, just relax and go with the proverbial flow. If we can push our fears far enough backstage, they temporarily disappear into that darkness. Which would be fine, I suppose, but I find myself stumbling awkwardly about over the props I encounter wherever the light is dim.
         Don't get me wrong! Within the sphere of my Usual, I still function very successfully. My critical thinking is fine. My awareness of moral integrity is clear. My recognition of interactions and their implications is strong. It's just those blasted lost memories!  Hmm...
           

My Helpless Heart

Slather tattoos all over your being...
     and so I stare at you.
Mostly, I know MY wants and needs,
but yours...my eyes glaze over
     as I wonder why on earth you choose
     such ugliness?---and call it beauty.

Slave that scooter sovereignly down the aisle...
     and so I stare at you.
Mostly, I know MY wants and needs,
but somehow...your empty stare, your silence,
    make you seem lonely and afraid, laboring
    to reach too far up or too far down.

Malingering, cavorting with pals, on the corners...
     and so I stare at you.
Mostly, I know MY wants and needs,
but what is that sheep-i-ness, that fear,
    I sense that leaves me distressed,
    shrinking from the tombs of your future?

Brokenness convulses my helpless heart:
     though mostly I know MY wants and needs

My Plea and Apology in my Old Age

A Song to Those I Love: 

I do not hear well what's outside my sphere of interest, I fear. It's another of my current weaknesses, I guess, but I just don't have enough time or energy left in my life to give to inconsequential [at least, in my judgment] matters. And, my memory is blurred or completely faulty on some things important to you. I'm aware of that. Please, forgive. Finally, after seventy-two years, I'm realizing how many things are and have been beyond my control and, thus, not worth too much of my attention and worry. 

As far as people go, well, yes, the situation is somewhat the same. I cannot fix you, any more than I've ever been able to fix myself. So, if you ask for my opinion or advice, I'll give it. Otherwise, don't look to me to solve your problems. I can barely handle my own...and I'm slowly losing ground in that effort. Let me, at least, hang around the edges and observe. Sure, I love you--I just know my limitations better than most others in my world. 

If you should choose to ignore me completely, I'll understand. I cannot affect that attitude very much. I do have some things to offer you in my old age; I'm not a complete burden yet. Just understand please that physically I can't go and go like others can and my nerves are a bit frazzled after seven decades so I may at times be grouchy or seem to isolate myself. Don't toss me into the nursing-home trash, just yet.

My faith, my Jan, my loves, my rest, my hobby---these consume my motivation. All else, necessarily, comes after these. I don't, unfortunately, have as much of myself to give as I once did. Please be understanding...I truly am working on improving my behavior to the best of my ability, even though I don't and can't always explain what's going on inside me as I change.

"I's" and "my's" are filling these paragraphs which shows how my world is collapsing in upon itself---with less and less outside to distract and complete it. Do I hold some very strong opinions? Am I intractable, bullheaded, headstrong in my beliefs? Am I becoming more uncompromising each year about these matters? Yeah, I guess. But, you will too as you age. Humor me for just a while longer...and please forgive me when I somehow interfere with your world without recognizing what I am doing. Yes, please forgive!

This spring, from the outside, I watched as three employees got screwed by their "superiors"  who not only took advantage of the system themselves but also helped, unfairly, certain other not-so-deserving employees. I would have presumed that anyone's sense of fairness would have been startled by these events, but no, when I started pointing this out...for the most part, others didn't notice or care or want to be involved in conflict of any kind for any reason. I did speak out vehemently, and a few people reacted, for the most part, I'm afraid, in fear or consternation that their spheres of influence might be affected. It's so much easier just to observe others and think smugly about how hyper and righteous they are being...

I want to say to my children (again) and to my grandchildren: You will never ever feel embarrassed for speaking out to defend what is right. You may be mocked or retaliated against, but you will always know the value of your stand. Most people simply want to live their lives celebrating themselves and resting comfortably in their routines---attitudes that led once upon a time slowly and certainly to death camps. From my safe distance now, I urge you to evaluate everything you encounter in your life carefully and always choose to defend the right!

I leave you, also, this warning: "The worst evils which mankind ever had to endure were inflicted by bad governments. The state can be and has often been in the course of history the main source of mischief and disaster." ---Ludwig von Mises

Album-ed Away

In this old age,
shopworn photos of decades past,
curiosities provoking an occasional smile
[Being, but no pressing Purpose]
and so, one gets album-ed away.

Shudder away the cover-dust,
remains of sparkle and spring forever spent.
Pages yellowed, edges crumbled...
disregard and negligence
become a looming death.

Within this abandoned cache
of fading memories, the stillness stifles,
dryness parches our careless, captured souls.

This album's abandoned warehouse
reverberates the hollowness of dust and gray and loss...
one walks across cluttered floors carefully---
almost on tiptoes.

So, we live on...
barely noticed and  increasingly alone,
hoping to make each last look
worth the halted time it took.