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.

My Hidden Tears

           My Hidden Tears

Life moments, not cataloged,

wander painfully away.

A few fractured shards linger---alone,

revealing that fearsome, gray

phantasm . . . the silence of forgetting.

Oh, that hateful amnesia,

the wound and ache and scar,

that shrivels my hopeless heart

and chills me through, a north star

of only lonely defeat.

My hidden teardrops mark Despair

along a narrow trail growing rougher.

My growing brainlessness

no longer urges a buffer,

I simply forget.

When did this start, and . . .

where did I go?

Faith, Belief, and "Escapes"

Our safe place, our comfort zone, our man cave, our country, our world...We all live our lives within boundaries, some self-imposed, others established by outside forces and events. For, even as God gives us the Free Will to select, we can and often do choose Restriction, some counter-intuitive constraint. Wonder why that is? Some fear of self-destruction? Some inborn Doubt?

Acceptance of limitations has been for me an on-going life process. At various stages of my life, I've discovered new, specific ones that come with each particular phase. I've also occasionally in reflection identified ones that I had overlooked or denied in years past. Life, here on earth with our inhibitions, is too often merely a recognition of various self-illusions. Then...deciding what to do, if possible or if wanted, about them.

At some point in my early manhood, I decided though that I could control and manipulate much of what life threw my way. And I proceeded to do so in a headlong fashion, often overlooking the welfare of those in my path, not maliciously, just in a self-absorbed egoism. A fervent I'm in charge here manner characterized much of my behavior although I knew down deep, intestinally that only something obscene could lead one to such a manner. Don't get me wrong; my influence on situations and on others was very limited---as I believe is true for all of us. (It takes drama and a massive ego to conclude that you're a meaningful factor in the lives of very many others.) Though the degree of intensity may vary, the ongoing clash between self-doubt and fear vs. self-importance and ego is for all of us ceaseless, I think. 

The successful accomplishing of this battle requires God's compassionate hand, I believe. "For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, move from here to there, and it will move and nothing will be impossible for you” ~ Matthew 17:20. As long as one proceeds within the will of God and with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, anything is achievable--yes, it is. But, only in step with those two restrictions! "Therefore I say unto you, 'What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive [them], and ye shall have [them]' " ~ Mark 11:24. Likewise, effective prayer, our communication with God, demands a belief and faith that we seldom can achieve. But, it's there for us if we can. "God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation, he will also provide a way of escape, that you may be able to endure it" ~ 1 Corinthians 10:13. Facing the vagaries and sinfulness of this world requires that we seek the "escapes" that God makes available...yep, sure enough.

Whew! my rambling got revved up in these remarks. Unfortunately, as Christians, we mouth certain cliches and espouse certain processes that we simply don't completely believe, at least to the point of living our daily lives based on them. Are they illusions that reside within our delusions? I imagine so. 

Moving Farther South

       Well, it's 57 degrees outside, foggy and misty---utterly damp and ugly, tolerable only because it's warmer than it has been for days, albeit now they're saying a glaze of ice and an inch of snow by daybreak. My sister nearby texts that she's turned on the gas fireplace, fixed a pot of vegetable beef soup, and is sitting back digging into a book. My brother in Florida texts dryly joking that with a couple of freezing-night forecasts ahead, they may just sell their house and move farther south. (Venezuela, I presumed.)

       But, you know, and we DO know, (we learned it young) life is not about the weather and such mundane things. Their circumstances and outcomes are mainly incidental pleasantries or irritants. Life is about our relationships with other people. And the effort to maintain them and to improve them is much more monumental than dealing with the weather. Sometimes, that effort is overwhelming---heart-wrenching, even. Sometimes, it's no effort at all---laughter and joy.

       Life never runs out of trials and troubles, joys and loves---and never will. Just so, the weather is always here. The on and on and on forever looms, and we simply, "Take hold of the eternal life to which [we] were called when [we] made [our] good confession..." --1 Tim 6:12. Hope you've done that. At 72, I better understand how inconsequential the various disquieting matters of this world and life actually are. Time can do that for one.
       I love one relational remark attributed to Martin Luther King, Jr., "Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." We may, of course, strive. But, that effort must always be a generous and true effort to help others as well as ourselves amidst the chaos of our particular days and time. Any other warfare is of cursory value and will have only a momentary impact.
       Jesus doesn't give us an ongoing option of "moving south." His everyday call to us is to love those around us wherever we are. That is more challenge than most of us can handle anyway. In this failure, to some degree is our earthly existence. Jesus loved purely, consistently and was killed in so doing.
       There is an ever-present evil among us. Refuse to call it Satan, if you will. The world is under its frenetic government. Brutal killings, sexual disloyalties, fighting, quarreling, child abuse and trafficking, warfare, bullying, abortion---that list goes on and on and on; its disgusting length and variety are simply overwhelming. Loving within that world opens one to all kinds of heartache. Loving within that world is recognized as a vulnerability. The Un-selfish has no home within a Selfish, evil world.
       The Dark Underside truly does exist and does have a recurring, sporadic control of human events.  We can choose to live trying to move farther south, but we can never move far enough. We must keep the faith by trying to introduce the Light of Jesus into it. Hence, I faithfully and combatively  insist on the truth of the old hymn, "If Heaven's not my home, then, Lord what will I do?" 

My Greatest Fear as I Age

       Each new bump, mole, and brown spot; each new ache in whatever lucky body part; each new, superfluous bowel sound; each new offbeat and  clanking, harsh and jarring song attacking one's hairy ears; each new short nap necessary to keep one going the rest of the day---each of these is a forewarning of my journey's ultimate and persistently approaching  destination. One needs a considerable sense of humor to appreciate the actuality of the matter appropriately.

       In utter truth though, one can do little or nothing about it---so why not laugh at it and forge ahead? A friend once told me life is a walking along, with your body parts once in a while exclaiming, "Really?" Another said he always planned carefully before bending over to pick up something to be sure he got anything else he might need while down there. One laughs heartily as he tells of buying a new car one afternoon and waking up the next morning surprised to find a new Buick in his driveway.

       That memory thing is the real rub! It's possibly my greatest fear as I age. Is it perhaps dementia? Is it Alzheimer's setting in? Is it nothing at all? Is it normal "forgetting"? I sometimes forget the details. Sometimes I cannot remember anything of various events in my past. Sometimes, I tell a story incorrectly without a clue I'm doing so till someone kindly corrects me. But, am I doing okay? Yeah, I think so. Many of those things are of little import anyway. One really can enjoy the present without superbly detailed memories of the past.

       I'm told, by folks very concerned about my welfare, that you know you're  getting old when your face wrinkles, your hair grays---but, more so, when you start listing signs of getting old. My doctor recently complimented me on my good health. I said, "Well, Doc, I never drank, I quit smoking, and every night when I get up to go to the bathroom, the good Lord turns the light on for me." To which Jan quickly replied, "That explains who's been peeing in the fridge!"

       

Growing Old in Winter

This cutting cold chews steadily away 
at my obscene desire to be.
And I pause, frightfully a-freezing, 
faintly sensible 
to palpable life's crying pleas 
for doings and goings and lovings... 
and talk...and laughter.

Other seasons, they surely await me---
somewhere a spring . . .
even, God-willing, a summer?
                           ---RLW

Old Dogs...and New Tricks, Oh, My!

     You can't teach an old dog new tricks, they say. It really is funny how your perspective changes as you get older. I think looking at this idea from another angle, my own old age now, that I'd say I don't really want to learn "new tricks." I don't want to be re-programmed, I don't want to be trained, I don't want to be someone's cute, maneuverable little puppy. That's a disdain, a disrespect that is remarkably distasteful. [I also hate for young women in their work roles referring to me as sweetie or honey.]  
     Yeah, I know, the "old dog" thing, it's just a nice, little cliche. Don't take it so seriously. Calm down.
     But, you know, everyone has an -ism that they're pushing nowadays. So, maybe I'll adopt a new one myself, for me. Ageism.  Age bias. Not because I feel I'm personally being treated poorly because of my age. But, looking around from my gray-haired perch, I'm seeing way too many other elderly people with inadequate opportunity to live a fulfilling life.
     I never have intended my "ramblings" to be highly supported, all-inclusive treatises--they are mere mental wanderings. So, I won't attempt long discussions of the crimes upon the elderly--the physical, psychological, and financial abuse and neglect, for example, to name a few. Rather, it's the general attitude I'm seeing in these young'ns--40 and under--the snide, laugh-seeking remarks about old people, the knowing looks in eye-rolling asides, the quiet dismissals of opinions, the general attitude that elders are quite the inconvenience in effort and time.
     ...wait, though! That old dog lying slovenly about in his own waste doesn't earn any respect either if he is "using" his age for his selfish advantage. I'm not speaking of him. Nor, of his younger counterparts, the spoiled children.
     I think where I'm finally landing in all this snorting is in a terrain where age isn't a factor at all. It really isn't age that is life's determinant. It's attitude, it's the general respect for the worth of other humans. And, I always contend that human worth is derived from our Creator who chose to mold us in His own image, particularly giving us the gift of making choices. Our entire value lies in that one concept. So, I'm back to speaking once again about sweet Jesus!
     We need to move away from the Old Dog way of thinking and the Young People Are All Idiots way of thinking and thru Faith value each other in all ways. Maybe, that's the "new trick" everyone needs to learn...

Genesis 1:27--"So God created mankind in his own image..."

Our Tree Hasn't Come Down Yet

          It's cold...two single-digit mornings in a row and the promise of three more this coming weekend, with two of those being below zero. I worry I'll have to mess with frozen water pipes, and I'm getting a bit too old for that glorious task. I don't believe Hell has frozen over, but it may be getting close.

          Florida-living {dear Brother} "sounds" more pleasant during spells like this. I'm rather sure I still prefer our God's-Country here, however. The variety offers its own appeal.

          Christmas is Past, once more.  Our tree hasn't come down yet, tho. And probably won't for a few days. There's no hurry to end a good thing. Let it linger. It's like eating chocolate ice cream--hang on for that very last taste. 

         I've been binge-watching NCIS these past 3 or 4 weeks---14 seasons with 20+ episodes each. The gore and bloodiness with each opening get a bit old. The snazzy techno-glib stuff is too "pat," but I'm nevertheless enjoying the entire process (in season 12 now). You know, there's just not enough time for a person to do all the things we like to do...winter does give me plenty of time to be inside, though. I work in my shop, read, watch TV, facebook (wear friends out with Biblical matters), etc.

         Speaking of that "tree not coming down yet." Our media, social and commercial, that permeate our society so entirely, the economic slavery imposed by our god-commercialism, the salesmanship of the so-called entertainment industries, et al---too often lead us to fail to notice the little, wonderful things in life. Like, leaving your Christmas tree up a few more days...Just because. Don't they? 

       Simple folks, un-sophisticates, non-elites---we Deplorables, perhaps?---have a marvelous grasp of what is important and right in life. We know the value of lingering in the arms of the moment, of accepting our littleness and knowing that God truly is in charge.

          Once one starts believing that Man is somehow in charge, one gets entangled in necessities and activities that lead to immoral outcomes, at worst, or, at best, spiritual neutralities. I pray you will return to a faith-driven life that focuses on God and Neighbor and on less human-centered hypocrisy and selfish convolution of values.

          Please, won't you focus more on the simplicities of life and leave those "trees" up just a few more days each opportunity you get!?

          

          

          

The Stillness, the Hush!

          Jan and I find ourselves entirely alone at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon . . . it's bizarre. We're both kicked back with full stomachs and relaxed in our recliners. But, the stillness, the hush, the emptiness is haunting. I don't remember the last time this has happened; it almost seems as though it has never occurred. 

          At our home, Sundays have been days reserved for worship, for rest, and for family. This pattern started several years back. Lately, some of our grandchildren, being older, have Sunday afternoon activities. Some other family members feel it necessary to work. Various other events occasionally interrupt. Today, it's everyone occupied somewhere. Today is definitely oddball. I don't like it. It makes me feel somehow irrelevant---and lonely.

         The Sabbath most basically was established by God to be a day of rest and recovery---not in some legalistic sense, but as a general, ongoing guideline. God created it this way. Jesus illustrated it. And, we have the obligation to maintain God's universe and ways. 

     My entire life I've tried to guard this principle without being a judicious fanatic about it. Failing to keep God's ordained guidelines, however, brings eventually some sort of payback . . . so I caution all to diligently keep God's Day holy, devoted to Him and His purposes, not to ours. 

     Christmas is less than a week away! Our illustrious Congress is granting us a tax cut and simplification---life is sweet. For what more could we ask? 

  Please live your lives knowing this is a God-centered universe! And we wish each of you a very Merry Christmas . . .
         

Our Selfish Needs Twist Its Significance

     I couldn't sleep this morning, so here I am awake at 4:30...reclining in one of our family room chairs wrapped in a blanket with the Christmas tree lights gleaming.

     

     Since Christmas is a week away, I decided in this stillness to re-read and re-consider the Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus. The things our culture has done to that fine story!  We've elaborated on it, Romanticized it, twisted it, focused on our chosen parts of it, created artsy Nativity scenes depicting it, turned it into a story for little kids. We've SELF-absorbed this event into a tale that suits our individual tastes---and our culture's permission.

     

     And that's just wrong, folks.

   But, perhaps, not as destructive as those who have dismissed it, mocked it, joked about it. Therein lies a tragedy. To the degree that we've interpreted this Birth in terms of our individual needs and experiences and, thus, belittled its significance---we have failed ourselves and all  of them, thus dressing ourselves in guilt. 

     Interpreting life using only our own experiences leads to partial truth; interpreting it based upon our selfish needs twists its significance. This Birth, and our chance for Second Birth, requires us to avoid those errors---it also demands that we function purely from faith, eliminating logic and emotions and placing ourselves to the degree possible into a willfulness to accept and commit. At that point, intervention happens and one will receive eternal life in a relationship with Jesus.

     There's no "understanding" it or "feeling" it that somehow makes it real---our simple trust and the conviction of the Holy Spirit do that. This mystical part of my personal life with Jesus goes, I fear, without adequate explanation---it's a "knowing," one which many I fear may never grasp. 

     I would challenge each of you to re-read and re-consider. Find some "stillness" somewhere in the busy-ness of your life, and listen. Let the story of that event speak itself beyond your logic and your reason. With that, I wish all a Merry Christmas! 

We Weren't Talking to Each Other at All

     I've been away from my blog almost completely these past several months. Not sure why...got caught up with other activities, I suppose. And now, I'm back to it---also with no known reason why. But, I do want to leave some of my thoughts for my family members (and others who might get curious).

     We recently gave up our satellite TV & internet service and have gone to a program offered by Verizon which includes those [and, oh, that marvelous Netflix!] with our telephones, in a bundle. We put up a $30 antenna that gets us also twenty some-odd channels---trying to save dollars and still be in the know and up to snuff. My retirement allows entire evenings to be utilized by these various fascinating venues.

     Which gets me to where I was heading. These technological pathways are rewarding, time-consuming, and some would say addicting. I don't know how positive or negative this activity actually is. But, I know at one point this past Sunday with 14 people in our home, 12 were absorbed almost exclusively perusing some kind of device---tablet or phone or TV. Communal communication was supremely limited, that is to say, we weren't talking to each other at all. [When televisions first came to my childhood village in the 1950's, I recall several old timers proclaiming them weapons of Satan. My aged grandmother who lived next door even had difficulty determining if televised programs were real or fiction.]

     Perhaps, communication isn't what it's cracked up to be. George Bernard Shaw said, "The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place," perhaps to be illustrated in "Don't you text me in that tone of voice!" All I feel very sure about in this area after 71 years of observation is that Language is just one more tool in the belt of humanity---bringing occasional great Good and occasional great Evil.

     The book of James in the Bible offers some great advice about the use of the human tongue. I would recommend it to all---all who know me understand that I probably should be the first one to put this advice into practice.

     I guess communicating is like everything else. Balance is all-important!

 
 

She Blossoms When They Smile

        I started this blog a few years ago with it in mind that it would be a way for my kids and even more my grandchildren to have insight later on into how I saw life. The birth of Jesus is thus a very appropriate topic.
     
      Another Christmas is arriving! I've had 71 already. My wife's enthusiasm for the holiday activities drags me (lazily, not reluctantly) along with it. She does yeoman service, determined to create wonder for her grandchildren. I marvel at her loving efforts! She blossoms when they smile. The ease of online shopping enhances her ability to accomplish some of her fascinating outcomes for them. Not to be intentionally morbid, but (at my age, such things are relevant) what a head-rattling shock the kids would have if she were gone and I were responsible for making their holiday bright.
        
         Everything, not just Christmas and a beautiful wife of 48 years, is sweeter as one moves toward the end of one's years, if one's health and wealth and relationships allow . . . God has certainly blessed me. 
         
         I, as have many others, would caution all not to get too caught up with the gifts and presents---they are super in themselves. But, that sense of giving is the largest element of the Season. That making others happy. That effort of their grandmother. That awareness of God's gift to humanity---His Son. That saving touch of the eternal into the temporal.
         
         The tree, the lights, the shopping, the fellowship with family and friends, the food---all should increase our understanding and appreciation of Love . . . and please don't get so caught up with the "season" that you forget those who are troubled and deprived. Reach out as best you can. Jesus will honor all efforts!
         
         Let me close with saying Merry Christmas to all my family and friends. God's blessings upon you!
        

We Have Sheepishly Followed

     I've been away from my blog for several months. Tied up with numerous daily activities. Got to thinking about the chaos that has invaded Christianity recently and wanted to make some remarks about it.
     Those "in charge" have messed up thoroughly I'm afraid. We have sheepishly followed. The Church is the Bride of Christ, not Ours! But, we've decided to make it conform to our human ways of thinking and human emotions and personality---just as many spouses insist on trying to mold their mates to fit their needs. As human individuals and culture are marred and always have been, so we often misuse God's Bride.

   We've pushed into an out-of-the-way corner repentance, we've diminished almost intentionally understanding and awareness of the Holy Spirit, we've substituted to some degree fellowship meals, youth rallies, faster soundtracks, positive-love sermons, and other human-centered concepts for God-centered worship. We've accepted the necessity of today's much-lauded inclusiveness to gain attendance numbers for the exclusiveness presented in scripture. 

    So, yep . . . Who am I? Who am I to bemoan these matters and indiscriminately criticize (evaluate?) the Church in such a generalized manner. I don't know. I don't claim any marvelous wisdom or expertise or spiritual status. I'm 72 now. I've worshiped in one particular Southern Baptist church for years now.  I've watched as my life and opinions and beliefs have become, to many, more and more irrelevant and outdated. Yes, at times, I feel a bit sorry for myself as I realize my age and outdated experiences sometimes seem to diminish my worth.

     Yet, I'm convicted---totally convinced---that truth is unchanging despite seeming cultural and scientific variations, some that are very drastic indeed (Wow, artificial intelligence)! Despite cultural self-centeredness. Change has been the mainspring of my last two decades. From my first reading of "narrow is the gate," I've marveled at that "exclusive" element in Jesus's words. I still do. Perhaps, current-day Christians would be wise to deal with that aspect of Jesus in a little greater depth. God bless all of you!

      

     

   

I Am Now History---and so are you

As a retired teacher of 30 years, I am constantly encountering former students. Often (pleasantly I have to admit) they say the kindest things to me when we encounter each other. Not too long ago, I happened upon one in a cafe. As I stood listening, she introduced me to her grandkids by informing them that I was a "legendary" teacher from their school's past. I was flattered. But, later, that word stepped upon a sensitive neighborhood in my usually peaceful soul. I pondered. In some very real sense, I am now history. Part of me has "died." It's over . . . one entire part of my life. Legendary? It's history. And other parts, too?

What happened? "Legends" are in the past. As far as my teaching years, it's true. I am "in" the past. It's okay (I think). I worked the front desk of a government agency for nine years after I retired from teaching. Retired from there now, for several years. And, yes, that's over, too. Another death. Another era of my history. You know, you just walk away . . . and going back isn't even an option. You really can "never go home again." A few of your friends may walk away in the general direction you're heading, but even they will eventually, surely turn to tend to their own, personal gardens.

One recalls moments as though reading about them in a book---experiences, people, joys and trials---but my imagination is a frenzied squirrel, darting about indecisively, unable to conjure up a complete image. By chance you learn that such-and-such ex-student is a grandfather and another may even be a great-grandmother! You learn that many have passed away. And, by cliche, it just doesn't seem possible. It doesn't seem possible that that much time has gone by. You remember them as kids. Good grief. It seems warped--eerily distorted. The value of life, I finally conclude, is mysteriously, intimately interwoven with the passing of time. 

That spectral passing of time reverberates through the Biblical repetitions of "These are the generations of . . ." and so-and-so begat so-and-so. Those passages nearly impossible to read emphasize something that happens in each of our lives. The passing of time---the movement of our lives.

Where is my rambling going to end? Somewhere here tossing about in a wonderment about time and life and how they do or don't fit into my concept of eternity. I really don't know. I do know that my Hope lies in the resurrection of Jesus Christ---and despite the disdain for this concept nowadays by so many of my fellow Americans, I will claim that belief as a reality . . . and so, in a greater, vital sense, my history is just beginning and has the potential to be so fine! God be with you. He loves you.