Monday, January 25, 2010

Posted Today

Today was one of those days you read about on Facebook or Twitter…a day when there is absolutely nothing to report but you post it anyway. It was a day totally void of stress, confrontation or challenges. I did my combination morning bike ride/church visit and checked the daily physical and spiritual exercises off my list. The weather was perfect…a clear blue sky with unrestricted visibility, high cirrus clouds that lay in drifts like sand on a wind swept beach. The winds were calm and the temperature hovered in the low forties while the early morning sun’s rays warmed my body to its very core.

The one service-call I went on (a reported total failure/shutdown) consisted of watching the automated carwash perform flawlessly as I sipped a cup of hot chocolate. Its computer displayed no errors and none of the equipment gave any clue of a problem. I felt a little guilty about charging the customer for “unable to duplicate problem” but the feeling soon passed when I thought of the times I had been to the doctor, they fixed nothing, but I still had to pay.

I then amused myself with a trip to the grocery store to purchase some non-essential items; toilet paper, bread and milk. I stopped at the Whataburger to redeem my free hamburger coupon and spent the afternoon fooling around in the yard killing weeds and feeding the ants some chemical that was supposed to be detrimental to their health (we’ll see).

I took a shower and crawled into bed.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for all “the nothing” that happened today. I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. It sure is nice when I let you do all the worrying. See you tomorrow. Amen.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Survivor Man

I fashioned a long skewer with a looped handle from an old clothes hanger and handed the two fifth grade boys each a single match with a lengthy dissertation on how to build a proper campfire. I explained how materials must reach their combustion temperature before they will ignite. I reviewed all the facts relating to the surface area and total mass of a material, the thermal flywheel phenomena and its relationship to acceleration of flame propagation. All this was followed with a mind numbing safety briefing. I felt it was incumbent upon me to pass this information along to my grandson and his friend, Josh…after all our future is in their hands.

They wadded up newspaper, piled on small twigs, bits of wood, sticks, branches and then a nice log. Then came the moment of truth…A single match stood between us and survival…failure wasn’t an option. Visions flashed through my head of us all freezing to death while lost and stranded…somewhere along the twenty-eighth parallel north of the equator.

OK! OK! Everybody gets one more match. But this time try to light the paper not the log first.

Voila! As the excitement rose so did the flickering and crackling of the fire. The make-shift skewers were placed in the fire to sterilize, the bag of marshmallows was opened and the ceremony began. Grandson Cameron removed his spear from the fire and for some incomprehensible reason touched his finger to the hot skewer. The look on his face was a picture worth a thousand words. I concluded if one picture is worth a thousand words then one hot stick is worth a thousand pictures.

It was a great day of fun and of learning valuable life skills. Only one BB-gun shot to the neck (Oops! Sorry! That’s an Air-Soft gun, not a BB-gun…a BB-gun is far too dangerous…you could shoot your eye out), one well-done finger and two very tired boys…but we all survived.

I opened the back door and we all went inside the house for warm showers to wash off the smoky smell before we went to bed.

Dear Lord Jesus
Now I realize my mistake, I did not spend time with my children
Thank you for the opportunity to spend time with my children’s children.
I hope they forgive me and realize they don’t have to make the same mistakes.
Amen

Monday, January 18, 2010

Kaleidoscope

I plopped my overstuffed self into my overstuffed chair and searched for something to watch on TV. All I could find was news reports of shattered lives. The devastating earthquake left no living quarters standing, it broke buildings and buckled boulevards, and it dealt desperation, death and destruction to the population of Haiti. But on the other hand there were reports of the entire world pitching in…pulling together…to pluck the poor unfortunate victims from their plight.

My mind…like a kid’s kaleidoscope…tumbled and turned all the fragmented pieces and parts, the ideas and thoughts about what I was watching and feeling. And like that toy…when viewed with the right light…all the bits of broken glass, all the reflections and refractions make the most interesting and fascinating montage. Without understanding exactly how it all works I could still appreciate its beauty.

It was heart warming to see so many individuals, organizations, and countries, all working together for the common good in the face of disaster. And so it is…the jumble of the sweet and the sour, the hot and the cold, the light and the dark, the good and the evil, the pain and the joy ….all mixed together in some marvelous mosaic. God’s mixture of humanity … I don’t understand it…but somehow I must believe that…God is in charge and it all works for His Glory.

Dear Lord Jesus
I was never considered to be too smart
But blessed am I, you’ve opened my heart
Knowing of those we need to feed
I’ll open my wallet to those indeed
Amen

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Kings

I sat and paid attention to the readings for Friday (1-15-2010). I didn’t recall ever hearing them before…but that shouldn’t come as a surprise… in the past I’ve really never listened too much. I found a strange parallel between today and the Old Testament, some six hundred or so years before Christ. Samuel warned the people about kings...warned them in great detail.

“The rights of the king who will rule you will be as follows: He will take your sons and assign them to his chariots and horses, and they will run before his chariot. He will also appoint from among them his commanders of groups of a thousand and of a hundred soldiers. He will set them to do his plowing and his harvesting, and to make his implements of war and the equipment of his chariots. He will use your daughters as ointment-makers, as cooks, and as bakers. He will take the best of your fields, vineyards, and olive groves, and give them to his officials. He will tithe your crops and your vineyards, and give the revenue to his eunuchs and his slaves. He will take your male and female servants, as well as your best oxen and your asses, and use them to do his work. He will tithe your flocks and you yourselves will become his slaves. When this takes place, you will complain against the king whom you have chosen, but on that day the Lord will not answer you.” (1 Samuel 8, 10-19)

For some reason I got the eerie feeling that we were in the “complaining stage” of this reoccurring story.

Dear Lord Jesus;
I choose You for my King/
In order to avoid the sting.
Don’t lose me in the herd/
Keep me safe in Your Word.
Amen

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Office of SS

After much cajoling, prodding and urging from my wife, she finally put her foot down and I knew the jig was up. At her request and against all notions and principles of self-sufficiency that I hold near and dear…I found myself standing in line with all of the others waiting for their government handout. It was a strange feeling standing there in front of the S.S. office (a brand new brick building that would be more appropriate for some gigantic international corporation). Somehow it made me realize that I was at the end of an era…my era. I was rapidly approaching the 65th anniversary of my birth. Looking around I became acutely aware of the fact that I was the only one with gray hair. I had imagined that this would be a group of seniors sporting wheel chairs and walkers…but no…this looked more like the Walmart crowd. A young man holding his pants up with one hand while smoking a cigarette with the other, a girl with piercings through every part of her face except her ears, a guy(I think) with earrings, several women with small children all waited in line. Not a one appeared to have missed any meals, myself included. Where did all these people come from? Did they camp-out here last night? It was almost 9:00 AM…shouldn’t they be at work?

Then the doors were opened and they all filed in like cattle, took a number and remained in a holding pen until the number was called. They waited patiently for the next window to open and requested their wishes be granted…much like in the Wizard of Oz.

I was a bit more skeptical about such wishes and “entitlements”…as I had seen the movie. I had peeked behind the curtain; and I knew it was a trick. Besides, I heard rumors from a credible source that the Wizard is bankrupt. Nevertheless, I had my wife’s instructions and a note pinned to my shirt…that read…Medicare part A, part B, etc. etc. When my turn came, I put on my best polite face, the one with tongue in cheek. I listened and learned that the new 65 is 66. I filled out the application, answered the questions and chalked up the morning to being initiated into my years of retirement, rest and relaxation…or, as a friend put it, “circling the drain” years.

Thank you, Lord Jesus

Without You I cannot proceed/
In a world poisoned with greed/
I hold money with some disdain/
But look to You as I circle the drain.

Amen

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Winter's Bitter Cold

The day winter came to South Texas I laid in bed curled up next to my wife robbing her warmth and debating which course of action to take. There was the intense arctic cold on one hand and the unrelenting pressure of an over-full bladder on the other. I recalled being trapped in this same dilemma as a child. I was a third grader and living five hundred miles closer to the North Pole (Wink, Texas). I remember bunk-beds on an enclosed back porch of an oil-field company house heated by an open natural-gas heater with the little tray of water on top. The flame was only lit after the rooster had crowed several times. If I awoke before the fire was lit I dared not leave the cocoon of my warm bed. Even after the fire’s lighting I faced the quandary; “should I get up and brave the bitter winter cold or should I lie here writhing in pain, but warm?”

Back in the Forties houses had no insulation what-so-ever and were built on piers allowing the uncarpeted floor to equal the frigid outdoor temperature. Yet, I still refer to those days as the “good ole days”….go figure.

At some point the answer to my conundrum became self-evident…I jumped up and rushed to the privy…but then there was the decision whether to sit or stand. Sitting would be more prudent for someone lacking in marksmanship and not wearing night-vision goggles, but the thought of being frozen to the seat…as a tongue would be to a sub-zero flag pole…conjured up fears of being surrounded by firemen and national TV broadcast crews.

Finally…mission accomplished. On the way back to the bedroom I noticed the digital thermostat displaying 67 degrees…that can’t be right…it felt like minus twenty.

I crawled back into my warm bed next to my warm wife thinking…I am so glad that I am not an Eskimo living in an igloo…and I started counting my blessings.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for giving me more than I ever deserved.
Please help me remember, to whom much is given, much is expected.
Please give me the strength and courage to follow through with this critical bit of information.
Amen

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Sunday Best

Dear Diary,
It’s only in you I can confide my inner most secrets…I confess that I now know how a fish must feel when removed from its watery environment as I spent the morning at the men’s store picking out a new suit to replace my thirty year old one. It started with the salesman laying out five or four dark suits and asking which one I preferred. As he explained all the different colors and subtle pin striping I thought to myself perhaps I should have stopped at the eye doctor and had my glasses checked. There did not appear to be any difference between the dark gray, the black or the dark navy blue. Fortunately my wife picked one out of the line up that she liked and I promptly agreed…suppressing my notion to show my ignorance and lack of good taste. After all what do I know…I consider a starched pair of Wranglers formalwear. Yes, I was out of my element. After trying it on…we all gave a nod of approval…and I reveled in the thought, “Hey! That was not as painful as I imagined”. I was ready to check out when I was advised that a new shirt was needed to go with the suit. Immediately the salesman unloaded the stores shelves and started in with the questions “which did I prefer…button down or regular? I knew the answer to that one. I’ve got a closet full of button down collars that I never wear because I can’t get those tiny buttons to button. “No button downs…final answer”. He questioned, “Color?” I answered, “White …final answer.” What other color do you need?…it’s a suit. I don’t like deciding what color goes with what. Everyday of the week I wear the same tan khaki shirt, same wranglers and same work boots. This eliminates trying on all the different outfits like my wife does before she goes anywhere. Well! apparently I need other colors too. I suppose they can hang in the closet with all the others that I have never worn. Oh! There is the required new tie, not one but two…they too can hang in the closet with all the other new ties I’ve never worn. That’s not all…I need a new sports coat…like where am I going to wear that? Wait! I have to have new slacks too. And now a new belt…both black and brown…Ok, Ok I’ll give on that one, the old belt was modified with an ice pick to make it fit. And then the new shoes were needed…I must admit it was time to retire the thirty year old wingtips, their soles held on with Shoe-Goo…well done my good and faithful servants.

I decided to just go with the flow. Sometimes its best not to muddy the water…you never know when you may have to drink it. Besides, now I feel that I have contributed to the economic recovery program in some small way. Money is like manure it does not do any good unless you spread it around.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for a wife who knows when I need a new suit.
Thank you for the wisdom to know when to keep my mouth shut
Thank you for a VISA with a substantial credit limit.
Amen


PS I’ll see you Sunday in my new “Sunday Best”.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Special Occasions


I was asked to hang a picture…too lazy to go out to my garage and get a hammer…I dug around in Fibber McGee’s closet looking for my wife’s tool box. That’s where I came across a little wooden shoebox (a little shoe-polish stand), that my number two son built when he was in grade school. Long forgotten with all its polish, brushes and rags…I wondered; “When was the last time I shined my shoes?” As a kid I remember having to shine my shoes every Sunday before church. We, my three siblings and I, would get dressed in our Sunday best and fall-in for inspection. Then the shoe shine thing was necessary because it was the only pair of shoes we owned and after a week of going to school and playing in the same Buster Browns it was imperative to apply a little color to the façade. The cool kids had sneakers like PF Flyers or Keds, the really cool kids wore Converse All Stars; we wore brown oxfords.

Times have changed, now I own several pair of Nikes, NBs and Reeboks in all different stages of worn-outness…each assigned to a particular function or occasion…from dirty jobs to formal wear. And then there are the thirty year old wingtip dress shoes that go with my thirty year old suit; only worn on very special occasions. Admittedly, both suit and shoes have very low mileage. This apparently accounts for them never needing to be polished.

As of late I have changed my thinking about what constitutes a “special occasion”. I have come to the conclusion that Sunday Mass is the most special occasion and have brought my old suit and shoes out of retirement. I have even given some consideration to the purchase of a new “Sunday Best” outfit…much to the delight of my wife.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for sturdy shoes and sturdy parents.
Thank you for putting a shine on my life.
Thank you…most of all…for special occasions.
Amen

Friday, January 1, 2010

A White Lubbock Christmas


Standing over the sink gnawing on a scone…I looked out of the kitchen window at a snow covered world under a crystal clear blue Lubbock sky. I ran my hand over the different colored accent pieces of tile next to the shiny new stainless steel fixture that sported a new three quarter horsepower In-Sink-Erator and thought…I am so glad to be finished with this two day project. It had been a challenge because I had to exhume a sixty year old rim hung sink from its resting place underneath the sixty year old ceramic tile. Cutting away tile in order to free the old non-standard size sink then dealing with the issue of making the new installation look like something other than a “patch job” was, to say the least, worrisome. This entire scheme was the brainstorm of my mother-in-law’s daughter and her daughter’s older sister...so I take no credit for thinking this stuff up. But finally it was completed and I could give myself a metaphorical pat on the back for bringing their idea to fruition.

My excitement over the successful completion of this assignment was tempered with a little sad regret over the fact that my one hundred and three year old mother-in-law, suffering with macular degeneration, would not be able to see this shiny new “I love you” that I had grouted into place in her kitchen.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for blessing me with a wonderful mother-in-law.
Thank you for blessing her with a wonderful daughter.
Thank you for letting me share a wonderful life with her wonderful daughter.
Amen.