Taking a Risk and Lessons Learned Listening

        My grandmother (pictured with me left in 1943) use to say, "Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, than open it and remove all doubt". I’ve followed her aphorism fairly well during my life. It works, too. You sit not saying a word with a group of people having a serious discussion and they start thinking you are smart, really up on the whole thing and if you do say something at some point, it gets their full attention. Of course, if you never say a word it is even better, because they go away thinking you were the brightest person in the room, you obviously understood everything and you never said anything dumb.

I discovered much later this idea didn't originate with my grandmother, but is actually Biblical: "Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue.” Proverbs 17:28


Thus I take a big risk by telling about my life herein. Some may actually read these things and my mask will be off and they will see me a fool. It is a risk to expose one's mind to others. You open up your head and perhaps all that is seen is a black hole, or worse you crack that skull and a bunch of snakes wriggle out. People do need to keep in mind my essays weren’t written to influence or criticize others. This is about my exploration toward God and my failings along the way. I am not writing to confront your beliefs, but my own. All of us have opinions that conflict with those of others and sometimes we are too sensitive on hearing a different view. If you take offence to anything, then please examine why you felt offended, because there is no offence intended here. I don't ask anyone to agree with me and there is certainly no way I can force anyone to do so. All I can plead is you give it some thought before outright rejection. As I say, it is a risk to open one's thoughts or mouth. Listening can be much more profitable.

I met a man for the first time a while back and he and I began to talk. Well, he talked and I listened. What he said was interesting, because I took the time to listen and although he said occasionally, "I'm sorry, I'm talking you leg off", I assured him it was all right, I had another leg. The man was 80 years old and had served his country during the Korean War. I learned about his joining, his service, how he came to know the Lord, and much about his life. I also learned another lesson about why we sometimes endure suffering.

Besides having battled cancer for 17 years, the man more recently suffered some other ailment, one of pain affecting his ability to hold objects. He came near death, lost 40 pounds and landed in intensive care. A nurse commented to him one day on his patience and his pleasantries to them. He explained their job was difficult enough without his complaints. Besides he had no reason to fear death. Another nurse told him he did make their day easier because many under their care were bitter and blamed the nurses for their troubles. The nurses asked him to pray for them, which he did.

What did I learn from this?

The realization when we suffer, our reaction to our trouble is observed by others and may be influencing their lives in ways we don't know. They may not approach us and tell us so, as the nurses approached this man, but it doesn't mean it isn't the case and down the road our demeanor may help that observer (maybe even bring that observer to trust God).

I've had sufferings in my life, as have we all, and I hope I have borne up well through those trails. Certainly at times I thought, why me? What have I done to deserve this? I didn't necessarily do anything to deserve it. It may have been for the benefit of someone else I was not even aware of and isn't that wonderful?

Sanctuary

I am a walker. This is something I've done as far back as I can remember. There is a feeling of sanctuary in a walk. It is where I go to think and sometimes to pray. The setting isn't important, whether city street or forest path. Sometimes I walk with another carrying on a running conversation as we stroll. Sometimes I walk alone finding peace in the solitude of my steps.

Walking alone means I am sometimes a dangerous walker, or a foolish one if you wish. I go into places better visited with company or just wander off where prudence should dictate otherwise. I once walked seven miles during a near blizzard because the buses stopped running. Two years ago I suffered an injured foot. I had sat around several days, but then the pain eased up and I went walking into woods I had never been in. The trail grew narrow with muddy puddles and fallen tree trunks to navigate. I was far back when the pain returned. I honestly didn't think I would make it back to civilization against the stabbing, searing poker piercing my foot. 


Perhaps this man was as foolish as I. He was hiking along the edge of a bluff enjoying the view when he tripped and fell over a cliff. Fortunately he was able to grab a tree root growing out of a fissure in the sheer rock face. He hung there, gripping this thin vegetation screaming for help.

"Is there anyone up there?" he shouted.

A voice answered, "Yes, I am here."

"Great," said the dangling man. "Can you help me?"

"I can save you," said the voice.

"Please hurry," said the man.

"Do you believe I can save you?" asked the voice.

"Yes," said the man. "I believe you can."

"Okay," said the voice. "Let go of the root."

"What?"

"Trust me, I will save you, but first you must let go of that root."

The man was silent for a moment. Then he shouted, "Is there anyone else up there?"

The answer is no one else is up there. Of course that is my opinion. I don't think you can ever believe He can save you, unless you are willing to let go of all the other roots that you grasp.

CATS: Calling All That Seek

Dog spelled backward is God. Our dog’s faithfulness to us and our faithfulness to our dog may be a metaphor for our relationship with God. When our dog was 17 years old he had great difficulty walking. We put him in a vest with a handle so he could be taken here and there, like a living suitcase. He looked to us for his needs. We provided them to him. Sometimes we were angry with him, but knowing his weaknesses, we forgave him. Without our love and grace he could not have survived. He put his trust in us completely and we upheld him in his powerless old age. 

Our cats remind us God calls all that seek Him. We are lost and yet God will draw us to Him and give us salvation. My family has found lost cats for several years now and given them new life. We have especially, my wife and I, provided a home to older cats, who often do not get adopted and would perish in a shelter. 

My wife and both daughters have been employed by no-kill animal shelters, and both daughters still are. My wife is retired and my daughters work as VetTechs.

One evening the younger daughter brought overnight guests. She had picked them up that morning and they will go to the shelter and hopefully soon be adopted. Just as these creatures of God's seek love, there are people who seek their love in return. This will serve both well. 

We had the little delights for one night;  a living reminder that CATS mean God is Calling All

That Seek. 

Mosquitoes

There is a place I sometimes go called,  “Tamela's Place”, where I would find "encouragement, grace, joy faith, hope and love", all things I often need.

One time she wrote about ducks. Well, not about ducks literally, but about allowing offenses to roll off our backs like water off a duck, a very wise point.  You can't duck (pun intended) all the offenses thrown against you. However, if you carry those slights around with you, you will drown under the weight.

She quoted Jesus in Luke 4:18-19: “That the Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Jesus himself was reading from Isaiah 61:1-2.)

She went on to discuss the meaning of "brokenhearted" and “heartache”. I'm sure we've all been there. Things happen to us all. We face disasters and setbacks and suffer great pain.  We recognize these things easily when they are big. And sometimes these big things bring us closer to God.

There is another kind of attack, and I believe it is directed by Satan, where we let our guard down because it is not involving heartache or the roof caving in. It is little annoyances, inconveniences; what I am going to call mosquitoes. Yet, added up, these little insignificant insects can take you off your game, even disrupt your relationship to the Lord.  This happens to me sometimes and that is when I need those things that Tamela offered on her website.

You know how disruptive mosquitoes can be. You want to sit outside on a lovely, cool summer eve, perhaps enjoying a bar-b-que and here come the mosquitoes. You swat at them, maybe kill one, but there are always others close behind and their bites will cause irritations on your skin that you can't stop scratching for days. This can ruin your little cook out.

I've been swarmed by mosquitoes at times. Let me give examples so you understand. Although some may seem inconsequential, even comical, believe me, they led to a distracting rash, and you know there is always a danger of out-an-out disease from mosquitoes.

Buzz, bite ---

I go to trim my yard. I have an electric weedwacker with easy-feed cutting braids, twisted nylon that slips through holes in the spinner. Except the last tube of replacement braids I purchased are too thin. When I turn on the trimmer, the braids simply spin right out of their holes.

So I go to Sears to find thicker braids. I find these nice plumb black ones (mine are green) that I think will do. I go to pay and the salesman says it would be cheaper in the long run to buy a reel then snip off braids to length as needed and have many more than the tube holds. Okay, so we go and he picks up a reel and I point out the particular trimmer I have as it is hanging right there. "Oh", he says, "this won't fit that. I thought you had a gas powered one, not electric. Here are the only ones that will fit the electric trimmers." He hands me a tube of green ones, just like I have. I explain these are too small, so he gives me a tube of red braids. They are thicker. I pay the five bucks, bring them home and they spin right out of the holes as well. I should have gotten those black ones even though the sales person said they wouldn’t fit.

I know. Why am I whining? Such a small thing. No big deal. No, it isn't by itself. But added to a swarm of little bug bites, it takes it toll.

Buzz, bite --

We had some financial set backs during that particular summer. A diseased tree had to come down for safety sake and cost us $2,000 and medical tests for my wife which cost almost as much (I'll get to that later), and next month my property-school taxes are due.  We don't really have much money. Those kind of expenditures really hurt and cause problems with the cash flow. How to I ease the pipeline a bit?

Well, my newspaper payment was due at the beginning of that month. I have always paid it for the year, but that is over $200. If I pay it monthly, it runs a bit more over the year, but eases my current cash crimp. I don't want to worry about the payments, though, so I call the paper to setup E-Z pay. With this, they automatically bill my account each month for $17. I added a three-dollar tip, making it $20 a month.  Three days later, the first payment is taken out, $211. Their billed me for one year plus the tip I added. Now they have messed up my cash flow plus made me look like a real cheapskate, a three dollar tip for the year!

I called them up and explained. I was told they would credit my account for the difference and I would then be billed the $20 a month.  I called them on the 7th of the month. I called them twice more. I still hadn't received my credit and they kept telling me it will come in three or four days. I would leave it paid for the year, but now I was concerned they will also begin billing me the $20 a month and I'll be double-billed.

Buzz-bite --

I got a threatening letter from the accountant of my wife's cardiologist. The one who did those recent tests on her. It said I was seriously in arrears on payment and I better pay up or else.  This made me angry. We pay our bills and on time. Here is what happened.

Our primary physician sent my wife for a stress test, a pretty normal type thing for people of our age. The cardiology place ran the stress test, told me wife she had a blockage and she needed further testing post-haste. She had to get an x-ray. They then told her the x-ray indicated blood wasn't flowing in part of her heart. She had to get a heart catheterization immediately. They said it was urgent she do these things. This had her a nervous wreck. All these things were done within one week. They arranged it all. At the end of the week my wife had the catheterization as an outpatient. No hospital stay, just the test.

Then they told her everything was fine, no blockage, no blood flow problems, she was perfectly healthy and they presented bills totaling almost $15,000 (that's correct, three zeros on the end). Of course, the Medicare took care of most of this, but we still paid nearly $1,500 out of pocket. (There may not have been blood flow problems, but there sure was a cash flow problem. Yes, my wife was healthy, but our bank account was feeling sickly.)

However these bills did not come on one sheet of paper. They dripped and dribbled their way here. I paid them as they came. However, one bill for $71 got overlooked. Why, because it was billed earlier on one I had paid in full, except on that bill they showed no charges for certain procedures, but when I saw this bill repeating the same procedures I believed I had already paid, I didn't take notice of the change of zero due to $71. Thus a bill I received dated July 11, I actually didn't send with a payment until August 13. Hardly being seriously in arrears in my book.

So why the threatening letter?

Buzz, bite --

The payment I sent came back to me as postage due - 1 cent.  That means the recipient, the cardiologist, had refused to pay the one-cent to get the letter. It meant my payment became even later in being received.  Was this because I misjudged the weight of the letter? Nope, it was well under an ounce and I put a first class stamp on it. One of those "forever stamps" the post office began issuing in 2007 when they raised the postage once again. It was said these stamps would be good even if the postage went up again so you didn't have to be bothered with buying a bunch of one-cent stamps.  

I was so mad I drove to my local post office to complain. The clerk (I think he was probably the supervisor) told me what I had wasn't the "forever stamp". Well, when I bought these stamps they told me they were. They had no price on them like stamps used to have, so why would I disbelieve the United States Post Office, "an official agency of the United States Government", when they said they were?

So the man at the post office put a penny strip on the bill and mailed it again, then sold me twenty one-cent stamps.

Now one little side note, as I waited in line at the Post Office, there was a couple at the counter with the exact same complaint. They had several pieces of mail returned to them for insignificant postage and they also had been told the stamps they used were the "forever stamps" when they purchased them. See, it wasn't just me having a senior moment.

Buzz-bite, buzz-bite, buzz-bite...yes there are several more. The TV, phones and Internet not working, the fact that my computer crashed and burned that month, a distraught daughter, other things of like nature, each of which if spread out over a long period of time would be annoying, but minor. Together within a few weeks, one after another, they are debilitating to normal life. There are too many to keep listing, but I will give one more.

Buzz, bite --

Midnight, my son is standing outside in our carport. (He smokes and always goes outside to do so since none of the rest of us engages.) The cops pull up and shine their flood on him. They tell him they have a complaint from a neighbor that our dog has been barking continuously for two hours. 

My dog was 17 years old and could not walk unaided. He had to be carried outside to do his business. He was never outside more than fifteen minutes, if that. As soon as he barks, we go out and bring him in. We have never allowed him to be continuously barking. 

We had a similar complain five years ago. In that instance, people two doors up from us had left their dog in the back yard and it had barked the whole day and evening. It wasn't our dog.  Neither was this time our dog. The next night we heard a dog continuously barking from the next street over at a house with the same street number as ours. We think either the complainant or the police got the wrong street.

I called the police and they were nice about it, but said they could do nothing. If there were a serious of complaints, then they would investigate if they were legitimate or not. It is so frustrating to be falsely accused.

Anyway, this is why I needed that encouragement, peace, joy, faith, hope and love offered at Tamela's Place.  

Spare Thy Sparrows

Spare Thy Sparrows

I have a friend from olden days named Ronald Tipton. He does a Blog entitled "Retired in Delaware". (http://retiredindelaware.blogspot.com/) We met in third grade and I counted him as one of my best friends growing up. We were parted by time and distance for several decades, but reunited via the Internet in 2001. He was not the only friend from that period who I reunited with via cyberspace. The other is Stuart Meisel, anything but retired in Florida.

(Photo l. to r.: The Author, His Florida Friend & Retired in Delaware, 1957)

There is a bond between that is unexplainable, which I believe is the case with most truly close friends. There is much in our history, our roots and our makeup we share. I cannot imagine life without these two as friends. When friends pickup after four decades apart without communication where they left off those many years ago it speaks of the magic and mystery of friendship.

The "Retired in Delaware" Blog certainly presents a worldview different than Weeping a Night; Rejoicing a Morning does. But sometimes you see further when you see different views. I don't have to totally agree with a friend to love him or her and I would hope my friends would feel the same. I pray for my friend often, because prayer and Christianity are cornerstones of my worldview, and this is a way I can show concern for the well-being of my friend's soul as well as body. I hope he takes no offence at this. If I wished to be offensive, I would leave him out of my prayers, which would be the same as discarding him into a field as some would discard the eggs of a House Sparrow.

He once wrote a moving post about just that happening. I will not give the details, go to his site and read his post. It is sad that a creature can become as despised as the House Sparrow has become to some. It is not entirely the bird's fault, but a good example of "the road to hell being paved with good intentions". The House Sparrow is one of the most populous birds in North America, but at one time it didn't even exist here. It is not indigenous to this part of the world, but was common in Europe and Asia. In 1851, Brooklyn, New York was infested with little green worms and some one got the bright idea that bringing some House Sparrows over from England would help. It was believed House Sparrows liked to feast on little green worms. No one apparently investigated the House Sparrows ability to reproduce or their aggressive nesting habits. Now to many these rather cute little birds are considered a pestilence long after the little green worms have disappeared.

I think we three old friends from long ago have felt like House Sparrows at one time or another in our lives. Ronald, Retired in Delaware, is Gay and there are many who would have squashed his egg in the nest too.

Stuart, my Florida friend is Jewish and as a boy lived in a decidedly non-Jewish town, and there were those who would have discarded him in a field if they could.

I am blatantly Christian and that is rapidly becoming politically incorrect and many view my kind as a pest that needs to be controlled as well.

The Bible speaks of the sparrow in more encouraging terms than the Birdman mentioned in my friend's Blog.

Even the sparrow has found a home,

and the swallow a nest for herself,

where she may have her young--

a place near your altar...Psalm 84:3

In ancient Jerusalem the sparrows and the swallows used to find shelter and nest in the corners of the Temple and were allowed to do so. No matter how lowly a creature we may be perceived in the eyes of men, we can find comfort in the sanctuary of God if we come.

And those of us who say we trust in the Lord need to take comfort with those House Sparrows so callously thrown aside for the preference of birds that sing a more pleasing song to some ears.

"So do not be afraid of them. There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs.  Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in hell.  Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.  And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Matthew 10:26-31

Paths

Paths

Some years back on our way home from somewhere I stubborned my way into the heart of Allentown, Pennsylvania. You know how we men can be—“don't worry, wife, as long as the road's heading south, we'll get where we're going.” Allentown, Pennsylvania was not the "get" where we were going. It didn't seem a big deal until we passed this same water tower the third time. I turned down this street and we came to the water tower. I tried that street and we came to the water tower. I tried another street and we came to the water tower. I heard it said that all roads lead to Rome and there are many different paths to God, but apparently all roads and paths lead to a water tower in Allentown, Pennsylvania. But it wasn't our intended destination. Our home was where we wanted to go, but without a map and a clear knowledge of the roads we had gotten lost and stuck where we did not desire to be. To resort to a cliché, we were going around in circles. 


Speaking of clichés, we went to Niagara Falls on our honeymoon. The AAA provided detailed

maps of the most scenic route through New England and Canada with all the attractions noted. For most of the two weeks the weather was beautiful, but the day we reached Montpelier, Vermont, it rained.

We were at the State Capital wishing to view the building up close, but not wishing to get wet, so I suggested we drive this road that seemingly circled the structure. (Have you noticed on these trips it is I so sure of the way?)

I drove around the building on the right, but we never came back out on the left. Somehow what seemed a circle was not and we were soon out of town driving through fields and woods. As we progressed (stubbornly again) the road grew more narrow and then turned to gravel instead of macadam. Occasionally we'd cross another bi-way, but the street markers were now rough cut, hand-painted boards. At one break in the woods there was an open pasture up a hill. Near the top was a small house out of which streamed a line of children who stood waving as we passed as if welcoming visitors from another world. (Perhaps we were.) Eventually I came to my senses (my wife told me to turn around) and since "the way of a fool seems right to him, but a wise man listens to advice" Proverbs 12:15, I turned around and back-tracked to Montpelier.

Even with a very well defined map, a small diversion had taken us from the planned destination and gotten us lost.

What has all this to do with musings and ruminations about my personal journey to God? Kind of a lot. I've chosen a lot of different roads on that journey and I thought for half my life if I was sincere in my choice, it didn't matter, I'd get there. Any road going south would get me home, not trapped in Allentown. Anywhere I turned off would get me to Niagara Falls, not lost in a backwoods of Vermont. It didn't matter which path I took to God, as long as I sincerely followed that path I would get there.

But now here's a thought I think about. In my community I have a good friend living two doors down my street. If I want to get to my friend's house, I walk out my front door, turn left and walk down the street to his place. Now one could say that is not the only way to my friend's. You could say there are other ways to my friend's from my house and you would be correct...to a degree. I could come out my front door and turn right and walk up my street to various cross streets. I could turn down any one of these cross streets in any direction and go until I came to another street, turn onto it and eventually circle around to my street and come up to my friend's from his other side. But the truth is, if I were to do that I am really walking away from my friend and unless I turn around and walk in his direction, I will never reach him.

It is not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way. Proverbs 19:2

Abandon Place

We people sometimes have difficulty dealing with inconsistency. We like to hold on to the way things were or places that we are. But life - living - is not consistent. Excluding any cliché about the certainty of taxes, I see three constants you can count on with assurance: change, the past is past and death. We can be at peace with our lives if we recognize these three. (God is consistent, but I am only talking of our current, physical world.)

Everything changes. You and I change. Just go get an old photograph of yourself and then look in the mirror.

Look at this photo. The house which steps the boy sits upon was torn down two decades ago for a parking lot. The dog died almost 50 years ago. The boy, who is I, is many years older and believe me, I've changed. I wouldn't want to be a seven-year-old forever. Would you?

And everything is different now than then. Telephones were clunky, black and on party lines, and you had to ask an operator to connect you to another party. No little portable phones in the pocket with built in cameras and text messaging. And speaking of cameras, they weren't digital. They held film and you had to take it to the drugstore for developing and usually wait a week before you actually got to see your pictures. When that photo of me and Peppy (the dog) was taken, there were no TVs in people's homes, let alone high-definition, plasma flat screen monstrosities. There were no DVDs or CDs either. When that photo was taken, you had 78-rpm hard-vinyl records to play on your record player if you wanted music.

Not just technology has changed, but the landscape has as well. That area where that photo was taken was mostly fields and pasture, but now it is a continuous line of malls. Even the weather has changed. The climate has been changing, warming and cooling, since this planet came into existence. Everything changes that you can be sure about.

There is something that doesn't change. The past is past. The photo of the boy and dog is in the past. That moment on those steps happened and is over. I can't go back and straighten the boy's cap for the portrait. I can't go back and save the house from rubble or its foundation from beneath macadam. I can't continue to mourn my pet for that will not make Peppy rest in my arms again. Why should I dwell in the past and let it dictate my feelings or what I do now? There are people who mull over and over their past, continue to cry for things long gone or wring their hands in guilt about deeds they did. If you did wrong then move on and do right in the now of your life. If someone did wrong to you in the past, forgive him or her and forget the hurt and stop being a prisoner to their misdeed. What good does it do you?

Our nostalgic hearts

Are only placated by

Abandoning done.

Do you understand my haiku? Humans are nostalgic about their memories, which are fine if we sometimes reminisce about people dear to us that have gone from our lives as a moment of fondness, but nostalgia for the past can be a millstone about our neck if we pine or fret about it. The past is past. Done is done. To live life fully now, you need to abandon what is done, because you cannot make it different.

I suppose it is trite to say there is only now. But that is true. This is not an endorsement of Eckhart Tolle, but now is it and that is where you should be living. (Jesus taught living in the now long ago: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34) You can't undo the past, so why live there and you can't live in the future because it doesn't exist yet and when it does exist it will be the now. You need to make reasonable plans for your future, certainly, but you can't put off your now for what you plan to do or be in the future. What you want to be, be now. The only certainty in the future is our third constant. You will die.

Everything living that is of this world dies. Every tree in the forest will die. Every blade of grass in your yard will die. Every butterfly that flutters by will die. Death is just a natural part of life. Don't concern yourself with death; concern yourself with living to the utmost knowing that someday you will die. Enjoy and embrace each moment as if it were your last, because it might be.

Knowing that every one around you will also die should make you show kindness and love to them, to do your best to not waste a moment of their precious time dealing with misery inflicted by you.

In my case, I love life here on this earth. I thrill at the diversity and beauty around me. Still, I despair at the darker side of this place. I try not to add to that aspect. And I pray for those I know that their lives would be untouched by heartbreak and sorrow.

For me change is part of the journey. The past was lessons that I hope have made me better. And death is simply a doorway from the downside of this world to an eternity where tears don't exist and certainty does.