Mowin' Lawns and Old Dogs

I mowed the yard today for the last time this year. I really missed someone. I hadn't thought about her, while mowing, at any time earlier this year, but somehow she was there today. During the summer of 2008, Abby, my big, black Lab was still alive. Every time I would mow, she would trudge patiently along behind me. She didn't care about where we were going, just that she was going with me. It was never the journey or even the destination, it was all about the company. At least that's what I would have said if I had ever been asked. Sara and I have been married for 43 years. She, too, has spent years patiently trudging behind me wherever I thought I needed to go. It was never the journey or even the destination, it was all about the company. I took her from small-town North Carolina to our first apartment in the very center of Philadelphia. Over the years, we've moved from that city of well over a million people to a very rural, southern Mississippi town of about 600 people and to several other different places of various sizes. Somehow, Winston-Salem grew to be home, the place we seemed to always return to, but it never was about the journey or the destination, it was all about the company. At least that's what I would have said if I had ever been asked. Today, I wonder. If Abby, the Lab, had decided to start down the road on her own, would I have followed without question? Years ago, if Sara had decided she wanted to finish college in Idaho, would I have followed uncomplainingly? If she had received a great job offer in Vermont or Cleveland, would I have wanted to go? I think that I can honestly answer, yes (well, maybe not Cleveland.) What I recognize at this time of my life, is that, at least for me, it has not only been about the company, it has also been about the journey and destination. I love Sara more than words can ever say and I am very blessed to have her in my life. I cannot imagine better company in the past, today, or as we move into the future together. I've rarely traveled anywhere without her nor seen anything special without her that I didn't want to be sharing with her. The great thing is that she hasn't minded, at least too badly, the journey or the destination. Here is where I am a little bit worried. Sara has settled down. If I am committed to the company, and I am very committed to the company, that means that I have settled down as well. I'm not ready. I can't imagine never knowing what is just over the next hill or just around the next curve in the road. I can't imagine never again meeting a cowboy or a trash man or a brew master or a woman firefighter or a shrimper or a lumberjack. I can't imagine not continuing to have my life enriched by tales of different lifestyles from those who have lived them. My friend, Rodney Aist, is just barely older than my own children. He is a PhD, an ordained Methodist minister, has lived in Scotland and Jerusalem and on the Navajo reservation. He has made a pilgrimage walk through Spain and has managed a summer camp for several years. He has hiked and camped and slept beneath the Northern Lights. I can sit and listen to him tell about all of those things for hours without being even a little bit bored. Maybe he wishes he had a wife, children, a dog, a house, and a truck. He still has a chance to do those things. Some or all of them may be the next thing over the hill or around the next curve in the road. The thing about Rodney is that he wasn't going to find me at my house, I had to go find him. Another friend like Rodney may be waiting for me to find, but I believe that I have to be on a journey to a different destination to have that opportunity. I don't believe that God's plan for me includes new journeys and new destinations. I am trying hard to accept whatever that plan may be. In the meantime, I'm going to try hard to be the best "me" that I can be right where I am. After all, I may no longer have the journey or the destination, but I can continue to be eternally grateful for the company.

V!

Are you familiar with a TV show, new for this year, called "V!"? If not, maybe you remember a mini-series of the same name a few years ago. If you have missed both of these, the TV series named "Aliens" came close to the same type of story. In the new series, V!, the V stands for Visitors. These Visitors are aliens who have huge space ships hovering over 20 some of the largest cities in the world. The Visitors appear to be of human form and claim to have come in peace. Not far into the story: we find that the aliens really don't look human at all, but are disguised; that they don't come in peace, but to take over the world; and that they have been here for ill-purposes for some time already, but are just now making their presence known. Disguised as humans, it is impossible to tell a Visitor from anyone else. By now, you are probably asking yourself, "where in the world (no pun intended) is he going with all of this?" To add a bit more confusion, let me tell you that I don't sleep at night. I haven't slept for several months. Some nights I read or watch TV or work on my PC. Some nights, I stay asleep, but am plagued by nightmares. I strike out at things in my dreams, sometimes putting Sara at risk and sometimes knocking everything off of the nightstand. Sara and Pepper (the puppy) are about to vote me out of the bedroom! Sometimes I talk in my sleep and sometimes I shout out loud. Last night was a nightmare, shout out loud night. That's the bad news. There is good news. The nightmare, as best I can recall, involved me being attacked by the Devil. He disguised himself (now you see the tie to V!) as a human: as strangers, as friends, and even as my mother. All of these people, actually the disguised Devil, were trying to convince me to turn away from God and turn to Satan. Somehow, I was able to see through the disguise each time and, although I was very fearful, I was able to call for help. These shouts for help were what woke up everyone in the house and set the puppy to growling. The good news... the shout was "Help me, Jesus!" I have been down lately and felt that God was drawing away from me. Thank God, that seems to be only my conscious thoughts. I take comfort, not from the lack of sleep, but that, in my unconscious thoughts I am still and always turning to Christ for my help. I know that Christ has saved me and will never let me go. My plan is not God's plan and my time is not God's time, but that seems to be becoming more bearable. Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I more accepting? Yes, slowly. Do I still want to be in full time service? Of course. I miss the Navajo Reservation and my friends and work there and wish that God had planned to replace the thrill of service there with service here. With the help of my Christian friends here, I'll work on being more patient and more aware of what God does plan for me and ask of me. I would really be remiss if I didn't thank all of my friends who have reached out to me over the past few weeks. I've been hurting and I've needed you. Hopefully, there will never be the opportunity to return the favor, but I pray that I'll be there for you if you need it. I love all of you.

I Think We're Back In Kansas, Toto!

Many years ago, I drove through Kansas just as the wheat was ready to harvest. I remember the day well, not because there was so much to remember, but because there was so little. The black, two-lane highway was arrow straight. It was bordered by equally spaced telephone poles. The overwhelming colors were the brilliant blue of a cloudless sky and the gold of wheat fields stretching for as far as the eye could see. There were no houses, no driveways, no fences, no animals or people, and for miles on end there was no other traffic. In the right frame of mind, this drive should have been wonderful. It was... for about the first 30 minutes. After a while, the feeling of awe became one of being trapped. Trapped in sameness.

Well, Toto, I think I'm back in Kansas. Sara and I aren't financially positioned to live off of her salary alone and we have vowed not to touch our retirement savings until she is ready to retire. That means that I work. I have been out of the IT field for so long now that it would be very difficult to find a job even if the market was wide open. For right now, I'm luckier than many. I'm working full time for the US Census and probably will be until next September. I'm working part-time for H&R Block and probably will be until mid-April. That means 5 days a week for the Census and nights and weekends for Block. At least that will keep me off the streets and out of trouble. Like the Kansas highway, as I begin I will feel great about working. In the long run, the sameness of it will probably drive me crazy. As far down that Kansas highway as I can see, nothing changes.

Have you ever watched a good carpenter choose lumber? One of the things that they will do is to eye along the length of a plank to check for bowing. If a piece is bowed, it is set aside. It won't be used for first quality building. As a carpenter, Jesus must have looked along many boards and set aside many that didn't measure up. I feel like I've been measured for my usefulness as good lumber, found wanting, and set aside. A couple of months ago, a missionary from our church, Christina Lowder, presented a homily in which she told of a Liberian woman being put into a deep hole as punishment. Her point was that there is always a need for someone not just to reach a hand down to the woman, but to get into the hole with her and support her in her trial. I want to be the type of person who gets down into the hole. I no longer believe or hope that is going to happen. I've been measured by the Carpenter and found wanting.

This is probably going to be my last blog entry for some time. The scenery at the bottom of a rut doesn't change much or often. When and if it ever does, I'll post again.

Peace?

On March 23, 1775, Patrick Henry addressed a gathering of the political leaders of the colony of Virginia. At that gathering, he gave an impromptu speech which is still considered one of the most powerful patriotic speeches ever given. Within his remarks, he said, "Gentlemen may cry, 'Peace! Peace!' -- but there is no peace." He was right! Shortly after this speech, the colonies were in a full scale war with Great Britain fighting for the right to form their own country. We all know how that turned out. On October 3, 1938, British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, in an address to the British Parliament gave his infamous "Peace In Our Time" speech. He had just returned from meeting with German Chancellor, Adolph Hitler, where he signed an agreement giving after-the-fact approval to Germany's military partitioning of Czechoslovakia. He was trying to convince Parliament, the British people, and perhaps himself that Hitler was a man of honor who would take no further military actions. We all know how that turned out. Is there peace to be found this side of heaven? How about in the sanctuary of His church? On September 15, 1963, members of the Ku Klux Klan bombed a Birmingham church, killing four innocent, young girls. On July 27, 2008, a deranged gunman opened fire in a church containing a crowd gathered for a children's program. He managed to kill two and wound another four before being stopped. This isn't uncommon news nor is it current news. In 1170, Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, was killed on the steps of the church alter. Where are we safe? Where is there peace? Romans 15:13 says, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Just this morning, a member of my church collapsed during the worship service. She was carried to the hospital by ambulance. I believe she will be okay this time, but what of her joy and peace? What of the peace of other congregants? I am tired and drained, so undoubtedly that contributed to how very much this morning's incident bothered me. I trust in my God. I trust that Christ came to give us eternal joy and peace as we abide with Him. I have very big problems in believing that the promise of joy and peace means that it will be this side of heaven.