Jobs

The diesel engine clattered and clanked as I bumped and bounced down the dusty dirt road on the way to a job…a job out in the country far away from all the people, the traffic, and the hustle and bustle of the city.      

I thought to myself what a great job have I.  Working with stuff not people.  Electrical stuff…mechanical stuff…working with stuff requires no social shills. Stuff does not talk back; stuff does not bleed out and die.  Well, some times it dies but you just replace it.

I don’t like dealing with people and their problems.  I have not the patience nor the social skills and no desire to interact with crazy people.  

Then I thought of God…God and his job.  What a terrible job.  He has to take care of all the peoples.  He has to deal with all the people who will not listen, who will not follow instructions, and who refuse to do what is in their own best interest.  The hardest part of his job is that he chooses to love them…love us.  He loves all of us…crazy or not.

So…thank you, God, for giving me the skills to do this job, a job I like.  And thank you for always taking care of me.

Dear Lord God,

Often times when things turn crappy

I think of You and it makes me happy.

So now I'll spend a bit of time

To make for You a foolish rhyme.

Sometimes I pretend I’m a saint

But you, Lord,  know a saint I ain’t.

I can’t repay the debt I owe

For this I'm for sure You truly know.

So I offer up this meager prayer

Knowing that it isn’t fair.

All You’ve done and given me.

And never once have charged a fee.

Amen.

A Toast

A day late and a dollar short…I never have the words to say in a timely fashion…so here is my toast the day after having dinner with my Pastor.

Here’s to life and how to live it

Here’s to love and how to give it

Here’s to you who show us how

Here’s to you who do it now.

For life is short and getting shorter

All the reason to live it smarter

So now’s the time to really live

Now’s the time to really give.

I raise my glass in a feeble toast

To you who make me smile the most

Here’s to you this very day

May God bless you in every way.

To Father Dan Morales

I Saw A Sign

As the prison sally gate slammed shut behind me I saw a sign.  It read: “Texas Department of Criminal Justice” With some amusement I thought, “Department of Justice”.  Really!

This world’s justice is far from just.  It is anything but fair.  If it were really just…really fair we would all be locked up.  We are all guilty of breaking some rule.  We are all guilty of doing stupid stuff. 

If we were honest, really honest with ourselves…we would all be on the inside…inside the fenced area…all wearing white jump suits.

No one escapes real justice, God’s justice…we will all have to do some “time”.

We will all have to suffer the consequences of our actions…If not in this life…in the next.

What’s the up side?  God’s mercy…God’s grace…God’s forgiveness.

For God bestows his mercy on even the guilty.

No mater who you are…no matter what you’ve done…no matter how many nails you have driven into the hands and feet of Jesus...God will forgive you.

Jesus will take you back…Jesus will welcome you home…Jesus will wrap his loving arms around you.

All you have to do is ask.  All I have to do is ask.

Now, that sounds easy…but it is a struggle…an everyday struggle.  And I struggle every day.

It is not fair, I shout and swear,

The world’s too cruel and hard to bear.

But then I think, I’m in the pink

And why should I make such a stink.

What have I possibly done,
To deserve just even one,

Of the blessings you’ve shown

In spite of the time I have blown.

I realize, to my surprise

You have garnered the eternal prize

You have taken that nail in stride

All because of my selfish pride

Into the vineyard I came late

But in Your hands I place my fate.

Dear Lord Jesus forgive me please

For here I am upon my knees.

Amen.

Coincidence?

Have you ever been working on something and you just can not make it fit back together?  Trying time after time to start a simple threaded fitting onto its threaded mate.  Maybe a nut onto a bolt in an awkward place that you can’t reach…a place you can’t maneuver you body into a comfortable position…a place your fingers can’t quite get to.  In spite of owning every tool known to man…no tool will fit because of all the obstructions.  You have to question what the engineer was thinking when he designed the equipment. 

You just want to go outside and scream every bad word you can think of…but after an eternity of fighting it…you remember to pray instead.

No sooner that you say, “Jesus, help me”…everything goes together like magic. 

God amazes me.

Grand Canyon Trails

I plodded past the red rock walls and down the twisting trail of Angel Bright Canyon watching the white water rapids rush through the parched landscape below while the rock spires and precariously perched boulders towered overhead.

The awesome backdrop was a reminder of the billions of years of erosion that exposed the geological layers of limestone, sandstone and shale.

As I reached the Phantom Ranch Suspension Bridge...perspiration seeped from every pour...my rubber legs told me it was time to climb off the elliptical and turn off the YouTube video playing the on my son's new 75" LED 2160p 4K HD flat screen TV.  As I stumble to the kitchen for a beer I notice the display on the exercise machine had counted off the exact numbers of calories equal to the donut I had inhaled before I started.

I guess I'll make that a diet root beer.

Reading, Righting and Rithmetic

Is it my genetic makeup, some mental deficiency or just a total lack of interest in the written word that contributes to my inability to read and write? 

I’m not sure…but I do have the report cards to prove that I am basically illiterate. 

Spelling, punctuation and simple sentence structure are overwhelming challenges.  It seemed that there are just too many rules and each rule has exceptions…not to mention the exceptions to the exception.

I’ve spent a lifetime of avoiding putting pen to paper…but as of late I have become interested in leaving a sort of breadcrumb trail of my journey through the forest of life.  With the advent of the computer, spell and grammar check…I can almost pass as literate.

I find it strange that my interest has turned to writing…even stranger…writing poems.

Maybe because verse tends to fly in the face of the stiff and stilted system espoused to by the old maid English teachers of my youth.  

Poems and verses seem to ignore the trite and hackneyed prohibitions against dangling participles, pluperfect verbs and proper pronouns.

I am attracted by the fact that the rhythm of the rhyme seems to be more feeling than function, more cadence than correctness, and more passion than prescription.

Although my doggerel is more of a dirge like drone of awful alliterations, hubris humor or some lame limerick…yet…to me, it holds a strange fascination.

I suppose it is ridiculous to think my rudimentary rhymes could ever be elevated to the status of poetry.

It’s quite the trick/ a limerick

For it takes time/ to make a rhyme

I want proper grammar/ but stumble and stammer

It’s almost a crime/ such clatter and clamor.

But what comes forth/ is not mine of course

It a gift from above/ that I’ve learned to love

So all I can do/ is point to you

You are the one/ everything comes from.

I owe my thanks/ to the one who ranks

To my Lord and God/ I give You the nod

So Thanks again/ my best friend

You’ve made it clear/ there’s nothing to fear.

Amen.

Change Is Good

I’ve noticed a change.  No longer do I look at my watch counting the agonizing seconds and minutes tick by.  My focus seems to have shifted from the preoccupation of trying to escape…to hanging on every word that is spoken.  I still manage to daydream and mentally wander off but it is not intentional. 

Yes, something has changed.  Some strange force pulls me to that place…that place of tranquility and peace.  I need my daily fix.  I need my battery recharged.  Actually it is more like a jump-start.  Some days it’s like the shock from a deliberator.

I’ll be in my pew trying not to daydream and something triggers a tsunami that generates an ego-crushing wave of humility that washes over me and leaves me with a salty trickle running down my cheeks.  And then comes the backwash…the backwash that sucks every bit of uncertainty, doubt and any lack of understanding God’s mysterious ways out to sea and drowns it…leaving nothing but the belief that God is real…God is alive and He bestows his grace even on the guilty, even on me.  

Dear Jesus, 

I suffer from a spiritual mange

That’s kinda weird and kinda strange

I know I need a daily change

So You my life can rearrange.

Thank you for the jump-start

I know I may not be too smart

But when my life goes off the chart

It is to You that I dart.

Amen.

Getting Old Is Not For Wimps

They say getting old is not for wimps.  But a wimp I am. 

I can see why this could be true.  I can no longer perform the physical feats I once could do.

But I think life is better when you get old.  Because I don’t care…I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.

It no longer matters that I never amounted to much.  Now the stress that accompanied that egotistical idea is gone. 

It took me a lifetime to figure out that God loves me…Yes…God loves me…and Jesus proved it.

Now my main concern is not disappointing God…this is a far less stressful situation than trying to please the world.

Dear Lord Jesus

Although a wimp I may be

Now I place my trust in Thee

I never did amount to much

But now I long for your loving touch.

This world is such a scary place

I much prefer your smiling face.

I am getting old but do not care

I am looking forward to being there.

I pray this prayer in your sight

Give me courage for the fight.

Help this wimp run the race

Please fill my heart with your grace.

Amen

It's Not Fair

It isn't fair/ that world out there
I whimpered and I cried.
For what they do/ is take from you,
while hurling remarks of snide.

I often squalled/ wailed and bawled.
How could they be so mean?
Woe is me/ rang out my plea.
Their spite was so extreme.

And so I fell/ into my hell
On them I placed the blame.
Until I woke/ saw I'm the bloke
That ought to be a shame.

I realized/ to my surprise.
I just could not help but note.
The one that died and never lied.
Was really my scape goat.

It isn't fair/ that world out there,
they whimpered and they cried.
For what we do/ we have not a clue.
and for this, my Jesus died.

I can't complain/ about my pain
I have much more that I deserve.
I'm blessed to be/ loved by Thee
And now I'm pleased to serve.

Amen

A Note To God

Today I heard/ from a little bird/ that you were waiting to hear from me.

In utter surprise/ I could not disguise/ my feelings of delight and glee.

So I sat down/ without my frown/ and penned a note to Thee.

I tried to say/ in some sane way/ what you really mean to me

But words fail/ to tell the tale/ of all that it can be.

Just to think/ I’m in the pink/ all because of Thee.

You did it all/ you took the fall/ nailed to that tree.

My heart it sunk/ I was in a funk/ I realized cause of me.

So I’m blown away/ know not what to say/ when I hear you want me.

I cannot repay/ one single day/ thru all eternity

The grace you give/ it lets me live/ even guilty me.

I’ll swallow my pride/ stand by your side / and pray I never flee.

Amen.